Arriving at Nicky Haslam’s Kensington pied-à-terre on the stroke of 10.30am, I worry that such punctuality is naff. After all, the interior designer is a renowned judge of what — and who — counts as common.
“It is naff to be bang on time for dinner,” says Haslam, welcoming me into his sitting room, which is decorated with various portraits of himself. “You should be 15 minutes late, because the hostess isn’t ready anyway.” The 85-year-old society darling reassures me that being prompt in this professional scenario is absolutely fine. Phew.
