Inside Queen Elizabeth II's Wardrobe
A morning at the King's Gallery, a very long queue, and the most beautiful clothes I have ever seen in my life
Honestly, I should have known. Even with a booked ticket, there was already a queue snaking out of the door when I arrived. And the moment I saw it, I thought: of course there is. Because this is not just an exhibition. This is Queen Elizabeth II’s entire life, told through the most breathtaking clothes you have ever seen, and people are absolutely flocking.
Queen Elizabeth II: Her Life in Style at the King’s Gallery has sold out so completely that they’ve extended it all the way through to April 2027. So do get your tickets, because trust me, you will not want to miss this. I could barely move inside for the crowds, and I didn’t care one bit, because everywhere I turned there was something that made me want to stop and stare and quietly lose my mind with admiration.
A Robe That Held a Dynasty
The first thing that truly stops you is the Royal Christening Robe. Commissioned by Queen Victoria in 1841, made by her Scottish dressmaker Janet Sutherland from Spitalfields silk and Honiton lace, the very same materials used for Victoria’s own wedding dress the year before. Every royal baby wore this robe for the following 130 years. Princess Elizabeth was christened in it on the 29th of May, 1926, in the private chapel at Buckingham Palace.
One robe. A hundred and thirty years. I stood in front of it for quite a long time and felt rather overcome.
Two Little Girls in Matching Dresses
In the early years, it was the Queen Mother who dressed her daughters, and she had absolutely impeccable taste. Baby dresses, Liberty printed frocks, bloomers, fancy dress costumes, many from the London firm Smith and Co Limited. She became a devoted client of the Parisian couturier Jean Lanvin in the mid-1930s and acquired the most wonderful things for Princess Elizabeth and Princess Margaret, those matching dresses the sisters wore being utterly iconic now, all lamé fabrics and shaped raised sleeves.
But the thing I cannot stop thinking about is the doll. Lanvin sent a pair of dolls to the Queen Mother for the princesses, porcelain faced, felt bodied, each with a complete miniature wardrobe. The doll’s dress was a tiny replica of the princesses' own, blush silk with lamé detail and a padded gold lamé belt. It is the sweetest, most poignant thing, because it reminds you that beneath all the ceremony and the history and the weight of it all, there were just two little girls playing dress-up. And one of them would become Queen.
The Wedding Dress That Carried a Nation’s Hope
Now. Norman Hartnell. Where to even start with Norman Hartnell.
