It’s early 1992 and my mother, the Duchess of Kent, and I have just stepped off a plane in Milan and into a waiting limousine. I am 27 years old, and soon to marry my husband, Timothy Taylor, in a ceremony at St George’s Chapel in Windsor Castle. Tradition dictates that I wear a British designer for the wedding (waiting for me is a gorgeous bridal gown by Catherine Walker), but the Italian designer Giorgio Armani has asked if he could dress my mother for the occasion and make my “going away” outfit (very much still a thing back in those days). And so it is to Via Borgonuovo, and Mr Armani’s private residence – an address that I will get to know very well over the next two decades, as the first ambassador of the Armani brand – that we head, for a double fitting, in our chauffeur-driven ca

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