India (Th)inks

The first time I noticed India Hicks, I didn’t really, though I should have. But tiny Clementine, the littlest bridesmaid at Lady Diana Spencer’s wedding, charmed everyone, while thirteen-year-old India, with her noble brow and intelligent eyes, was more of the wedding party than the party itself.

I noticed her again, while she was beginning her short-lived modeling career—in the pages of Vogue wearing a white tank top and Isaac Mizrahi ballgown-skirt, bringing credence to Ralph Lauren’s fauxtocratic English country-living adverts. (India and Honor Fraser were my two favorite “pedigree” models; Stella Tennant has obviously transcended that label.)

I liked that she was much more statuesque than waif; she freely commented in interviews that she was not “naturally” reed thin; in her post-pregnancy months she utterly unself-consciously modeled for Marina Rinaldi. (And she actually gained weight while pregnant! No “Body after Baby” triumph stories three weeks later in People magazine).

I cocked an eyeball here and there whenever India made news: her island living aesthetic appealed to me; though I thought her currency sank a little with her line for Crabtree and Evelyn.

And now India’s in the public eye, in the national pop culture, really, as the host of Bravo's surprisingly delightful Top Design. It’s the only TV show that could keep me up till midnight on a work night. I watch it to see what India wears and how she wears it, like this Cavalli flapper-esque number:

And this Tony Cohen knotted beauty:

India may be “never the bride,” but she’s certainly not wearing bridesmaids’ garb any more.