Where they work
Where once the archetypal Sloane woman (the Eighties handbook - don't pretend you haven't read it - calls her Caroline, but today she's an Amber) only cooked or typed, now she can turn her hand to almost any job. Female Sloane jobs now tend towards travel, jewellery, fashion or PR. Caroline would quit her job as soon as she got engaged; these days, the pressure is on for Amber to make her work more amenable to her new life with her husband. Late nights and working on the weekend won't be tolerated.
The modern-day male Sloane - we'll call him Otis - has an awful lot to pay for: shooting, hunting, racing, skiing, yachting in St Tropez, dinners at 5 Hertford Street. The rich foreigners colonising London have raised the bar and the poor Sloane knows he just has to jump. And it's suddenly OK to talk about salaries (in hushed tones). A rough calculation suggests Otis, in his 20s, needs to be earning in excess of £100,000 per annum before bonuses and after tax. Fortunately, this drive for high income can eventually slacken
- just as soon as his trust fund comes in.
Where they live
Many of today's Sloanes have tried to disguise their inability to afford property near the mothership (Peter Jones) as intrepidity. Whatever the reason, today's Sloane has dispersed into the wilderness (SW6, SW10, SW11, W10, W11, even NW10), congregated into tribes and attempted to rebrand. Like Jif became Cif.
To appeal to a wider audience. It would be quite wrong to suggest that the Sloane has left Chelsea entirely. But the survivors have been deeply affected by their new Russian, American, French and footballer neighbours. Traditionally, the Chelsea Sloane would go to the hairdresser only on her wedding day, but now she is high-maintenance and spends weekends getting blowdries, manicures and Botox in an attempt not to lose Otis to Svetlana.
Chelsea Sloanes are no longer worried about talking about money - living where they do, they wear their money on their Turnbull & Asser sleeves anyway. They buy their lunch at the Pie Man and go out to dinner at either La Famiglia or Ziani's - mainly because they love how the terrible acoustics mean no one
need talk to each other.
Closest to the Sloane of The Official Sloane Ranger Handbook is the Battersea Sloane. This Sloane insists on entertaining in the flat they've decorated like a mini-stately. The park is a big feature of their lives: picnics and tennis in the summer, fireworks in the winter, walking Molly the dachshund in the spring. In this circle, the women sometimes still wear pearls.
Not a million miles away, geographically or mentally, is the Fulham Sloane. HQ is the White Horse - aka the Sloaney Pony - on Parsons Green, where pints are drunk and cigarettes smoked all year round at the table outside (pashminas protect against bad weather). The Fulham Sloane gets roaring drunk and suffers from 'lash rash' (red blotching from over-consumption of alcohol).
They also swear blind that Fulham is only 15 minutes from Sloane Square. Which is true. If you have a helicopter. Then there's the Notting Hill Sloane, better accessorised and generally considered cooler - but actually just richer, because every Sloane would love a W11 postcode. They are members of the Electric, and are big fans of both Portobello Market and how the area happily includes them and those from 'other
walks of life' who live on the council estate down the street. This Sloane parties on rooftops - John Lycett Green's, until he got his barge - likes photography and calls people 'brother'.
Read more at http://www.tatler.com/news/articles/march/the-modern-sloane-part-3#VO6wTR1CKhFCTaYt.99