The Royal Box’s Last Day On Parade

The fourteen days are done, Jannik Sinner has made his Wimbledon balcony debut with the silver, the Prince and Princess of Wales and their two elder children brought the royal flush to anchor the courtside row of the Royal Box. The Royal Box, six rows deep, seats a total of 74 souls, and in it, the famous last-day guest list pause in their busy lives for the duration of the match.

The theatrical paradigm is slowed, extended and occasionally reversed by the circumstance. No longer are the great and the good moving through a gauntlet of photographers at a speed of their choosing, tossing off a sound bite here or there before high-tailing. Obviously, their duty is to appear attentive for two-to-five hours, or whatever it takes. They can’t end it; they’re fixed. Their good fortune is that it’s a world-class tennis match that has trapped them, so in one way, it’s not that tough to endure.

But we could fairly say that they’re in an oddly uncomfortable sort of jail, not unlike that of the Oscars broadcast, but rather worse, meaning, out of doors, in glaring sun or perhaps a bit of shade — and since it’s England, sometimes interspersed with bouts of rain — with only reduced “daytime” defenses in costume and maquillage. There is no “freshening” team in a green room somewhere to towel them down or bump up the armor. They’re on their own out in the terrifying free world, with 20-odd millions watching.

The British royals are far more adept at this than any of their guests; they do it every single day, not once or twice a year.

Above, a fearless Matthew McConaughey demonstrates his superior Texas-honed Royal Box glad-handing skills with former Wimbledon champion Andre Agassi.

Theoretically, it’s probably not possible to “out-ice” Conde Nast global director Anna Wintour , pictured above, center, in the Royal Box, or anywhere, really, but Nicole Kidman, left, is giving it a hell of a go in that white hat and white suit. It’s the topper that really carries the freight here, but is the hat perhaps a shade too much? Hard to know at these altitudes, oxygen levels being as low as they are in the Royal Box.

Stage right, to Ms. Wintour’s left, musician James Righton, aka, Mr. Kiera Knightley, does his level best to be sitting with the grown-ups in his unfortunate cream kit. We can forgive him the cream gambit, but can that tie really be silver? The ongoing mystery is how he met the Dubai disco operator whom we suspect gave him the tie. The Gulf being one of the few places in the world where ties like that still have currency.

Wimbledon patron the Princess of Wales’ blue dress is stadium-ready, with its strong shoulder and mid-length sleeves, not to be outdone by the silver-gilt men’s cup. Below, the royal family in situ in the Royal Box, the Prince of Wales and Prince George boldly rocking the hatless-ness privilege.

For his part, the Prince of Wales, pictured below, brings the classic white duck pants to the (perfectly cut) double-breasted navy blazer, a fresh breath of summer male peacock-ery that works especially well in Wimbledon’s cream-filled stands. In fact, if we may note, with the exception of the white straw toppers on many of the men in the four rows behind the royals, the majority of the men are in dark jackets. Kudos! The exceptions are Matthew McConaughey, pictured above far right; James Righton, pictured below in the third row; and Andre Agassi, picutred below in the second row, far right.

In his regulation dark navy blazer, Prince George is in command, if slightly dubious about the goings on, at the oak desk of the rail.

King Felipe VI of Spain absolutely had to show up to watch his countryman Carlos Alcaraz lose to Jannik Sinner, and, above, was moved by the result of the cliffhanger. He chose a light cream bespoke jacket over grey trousers, which is to say, he got the “cream” memo, but couldn’t quite make himself go whole hog. He’s exercising fair restraint. Through his descent from King George of Greece, he’s second cousin to Charles, so the message here is, he’s not here to make waves amongst the cousins, it’s their show.

Pictured above Virgin boss Richard Branson is kitted out in regulation navy, his rather great white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and set off perfectly with a blue patterned tie. This is the evidence of classic schooling. They do this kind of thing well in England, looks good buttoned up, or skewed slightly, after a long and eventful life in music and in the air, as here.