Today Hayley Marie Coppin is being quintessentially, gloriously English, and she wants you along for every step of it. She sets off through the high street in a navy blue boho mini dress embroidered all over with white arabesque scrollwork, a dramatic gold pendant necklace layered at her chest, oversized gold hoop earrings, and strappy gold sandals that could make a pavement look like a catwalk. A Costa coffee in one hand, a copy of The Times tucked under the other arm, sunglasses on, wind in her long blonde hair: she is the most effortlessly stylish woman in any postcode she happens to occupy, and she looks entirely aware of it.
The high street gives way to a sun-lit park, and then a winding country path, and Hayley strolls it all with the breezy, unhurried confidence of a woman who has nowhere in particular to be and all the time in the world to look this good getting there. She crosses a pretty white footbridge beneath a canopy of weeping willows, the spring light filtering green and golden through the branches, and pauses to let the world catch up. You were invited along, she said. Consider this your best decision of the day.