Old Money

Navy blazers, cream knits, crisp shirts, tailored trousers and a camel coat that fits perfectly. Colours are navy, white, sand, bottle green and soft grey. Patterns are stripes, checks and the occasional tasteful cable.

Loafers, worn in. A plain leather belt. A watch that ticks. Pearls or a slim gold chain, and nothing more. Your jumper is draped over your shoulders on a summer evening, and you make it look completely natural. Nothing has a visible label, because the quality is in the cut and the cloth. Hair is neat and easy. You look like you have just stepped off a sailing boat or out of a library, and in either case you know where the good restaurant is.

A wood-panelled study, a leather sofa, piles of books with cloth covers. Antique furniture mixed with a few good modern pieces. A potted olive tree in a big terracotta pot.

Your walls hold oil paintings, landscapes and portraits, framed in gold. There are fresh flowers in a silver vase, linen napkins in the drawer and proper glasses for every drink. Rugs are faded and woven. Curtains are lined. The kitchen is practical, with copper pans and a long table. Everything in the house looks as if it has been there forever, even the things you bought last month. Guests feel comfortable and slightly better dressed than they did at the door. There is always a decent bottle open.

Classical, jazz standards, a string quartet at a summer party. Music that sounds right in a room with high ceilings.

Weekends are for a gallery, a long lunch, then cocktails in a hotel bar. You like a walk in the countryside in good boots, a game of tennis, a sail, a day at the races in the right hat. In the evening you host dinner: candles, proper cutlery, a seating plan you have thought about. You read the weekend paper properly, all of it. Summers are a villa, a coast or a country house with friends. You never rush a weekend. You have a gift for making it look effortless, though everyone close to you knows exactly how much planning went in.

A giant logo. A tracksuit outside the house. Anything with the word bling attached to it.

You would never be caught with trend pieces that will look dated by spring, or with shoes that squeak. Paper napkins at a dinner party are not an option. Neither are plastic glasses. You avoid loud conversations about money, which is the most old money thing of all. You would never be caught arriving empty-handed, forgetting a thank-you note or talking over the person who is speaking. You also would not be caught replacing a good piece of furniture because it looks a bit worn. Worn is the point.

Build slowly. Choose one excellent coat, one pair of shoes and one bag, and look after them properly. Learn to polish leather and fold a shirt. The care is part of the look.

Learn the old skills: how to write a thank-you note, how to make a proper martini, how to carve, how to introduce two people so they have something to talk about. Buy antiques and secondhand pieces; they are better made and they come with history. Then let some warmth in. The best version of this aesthetic is kind, curious and generous, not exclusive. Host often. Share your books. Old money style is really about time, care and manners, and anyone can have those.