‘‘WOMEN THESE DAYShave better things to do than bow to a cake.” Thus said Peter Townend, former social editor of Tatler and gatekeeper of the vestigial debutante scene, before his death in 2002. Despite Townend’s apres moi le deluge predictions, the London Season has not only endured but apparently flourished, particularly after two years of lockdown restrictions. More expansive, international and inclusive, the modern Season now extends far beyond its traditional sporting-based fixtures, including anything from Glastonbury to Art Basel. Extravagant hats, unwashed Henley blazers and buckets of luke-warm Pimms have been supplemented, if not superseded, by architecture installations and superstar DJ sets. Yet might it have lost a little polish in the process?
The concept of the “Season” began to coalesce around the Restoration court in the seventeenth century, essentially coinciding with the presence of the Royal Family in London and the sitting of Parliament, though its rituals were not formalized until 1780 with the first ball in honour of Queen Charlotte’s birthday, when “coming
