Diamond Coronet Tiara of seven large shamrocks, clover leaves in diamond, made ca 1820, above worn by Marchioness of Dufferin and Ava, Maureen Guinness.
Why Not Say What Happened? Ivana Lowell
Ivana Lowell is the daughter of Lady Caroline Blackwood, who was the daughter of Maureen, Marchioness of Dufferin and Ava, née Guinness.
Maureen “was one of three sisters whom the society pages dubbed “the glorious Guinness girls.” All three were beautiful, charming, and, thanks to the popularity of the black stout beer whose name they bore, very rich. They were also spoiled, selfish, and uneducated. They were born during an era when it was deemed unnecessary for a young lady to be equipped with anything other than nice manners and good child-bearing hips. Education was considered unimportant.”
“When the girls came out as debutantes, they were in possession of cash and good looks, but they needed class to be accepted at the highest level of English society. My grandmother found it in the form of the Marquess of Dufferin and Ava. Basil Dufferin was young, handsome, and eligible. His great-grandfather the first marquess had been viceroy in India and governor general of Canada.
He had arguably been Britain’s most accomplished diplomat of the nineteenth century. Basil himself had done brilliantly at Oxford and was generally expected to go on to do great things. The huge society marriage between the dashing young marquess and the vivacious Guinness at Saint Margaret’s Cathedral in London was seemingly made in Debrett’s heaven.
“By the time my mother was old enough to come out as a debutante in London, my grandmother was harboring hopes of a great marriage for her elder daughter. The highlight of the debutant season was the private coming-out balls given by the girls’ parents to show off their offspring. . . . My grandmother was determined to give her beautiful daughter a coming-out ball that would rival all the others. Princess Margaret was a debutante the same years as my mother, and she and her sister, the young Queen Elizabeth, attended the event.
The night of her daughter’s party, however, my grandmother was so overcome with excitement that she “overserved” herself with champagne. While trying to execute a rather elaborate move on the dance floor, she fell facedown, sprawled inelegantly on the parquet floor. The family’s priceless, shamrock-shaped tiara that adorned her head had been broken.
Her behaviour in front of royalty had left her mortified. The next day she swore off alcohol altogether and never touched a drop again.”
“For my grandmother’s ninetieth birthday, Evgenia (Ivana’s sister) and I had given her a grand ball at Claridge’s, the venerable and to Maureen, reassuringly expensive hotel in Mayfair. . . . I love a good party, and my grandmother was a deserving beneficiary, having spent most of her time and energy attending and giving them. The occasion went from being dubbed Maureen’s Ninetieth to becoming Maureen’s Tiara Party, because the creamy engraved invitation read, “White Tie, Tiaras, and Medals may be worn.” There was a lot of frantic searching through old jewelry boxes as tiara-less friends and relatives looked for sparkling ornaments for their hair.”
“The Tiara Ball was the highlight of Maureen’s twilight years. All her friends and family that were still living (although some of them were so old it was questionable whether they really were still with us) turned out for her.
She looked marvelous. Her shamrock tiara was perched proudly on her white hair and she wore a black taffeta gown with a high ruffle around the neck and big puffy sleeves. On the bottom of the ruffle she wore a huge diamond pin that my sister and I nicknamed the Monster Brooch, (see the wedding gifts.)
Because her feet and ankles were weakened by arthritis, she chose to greet her guests sitting down. Claridge’s had organized a white platform on which a blue-and-gold satin sofa was perched, and there she sat regally. An enormous bower of her favorite flowers—lilies and roses—formed an arch around her, completing the elaborate tableau.
She clearly enjoyed every moment of the evening, particularly the arrival of the Queen Mother, who sweetly explained to us why she hadn’t worn a tiara. “It’s my hair, you see. It’s just too thin these days and I find those things so painful because they dig into one’s head, you know?”
Thank you to Laura, for this text.
