George and Harry: Our Special Correspondent Gets the Royal Stiff-Arm at Star-Studded Manhattan Polo Classic

At the bar, investment banker Euan Rellie declared it a great day to be British because of Harry who, despite

At the bar, investment banker Euan Rellie declared it a great day to be British because of Harry who, despite those “very trivial missteps” a few years ago, had emerged as a real credit to his country. “The Nazi uniform thing wasn’t a great idea in retrospect,” Mr. Rellie said. “Not particularly proud of that one. But he’s okay, he was a kid. I made mistakes at age 35 that he made when he was 18 and thank God mine didn’t get into the newspaper!”

Sign Up For Our Daily Newsletter

By clicking submit, you agree to our <a href="http://observermedia.com/terms">terms of service</a> and acknowledge we may use your information to send you emails, product samples, and promotions on this website and other properties. You can opt out anytime.

See all of our newsletters

After ordering a grassy mallet, Mr. Rellie continued, “People here seem to have fallen under his spell and I think he’s got some of his mother’s fairy dust. He’s also well spoken, entirely authentic, and he has some of the best qualities of British people, in that he takes serious things sometimes rather lightly and light things rather seriously in a way. He’s doing good charity work and seems to enjoy himself, wears jeans with a rip in them which humanizes him and makes him convincing as a result, gives him added authority. He’s not overtrained or over polished and comes across very naturally.”

Earlier, Mr. Rellie had witnessed the prince asking the photographers to “cool it guys” when they were getting carried away. He found it charming and disarming.

“There’s a high glamour quotient but the other thing that he brings is a slightly informal way which again makes it even more sexy,” Mr. Rellie said. “Girls are certainly nuts about him. My wife is nuts about him and we’ve been married for seven years! Talk to Lucy.”

Lucy Sykes Rellie, wearing a white wavy hat, chic fitted dress, fabulous high sexy shoes, described Harry as the antithesis of the stuffy old royal, inheriting his mum’s common touch and natural charm.

She denied having a crush on the prince, however: “Noooo! Noooo. He’s like 20 years younger than me! But I was very, very impressed. I mean everyone, I looked around the room and they were all in tears.”

Actress Chloe Sevigny, dressed in an ensemble she described as “American Gigolo slash Great Gatsby,” sympathized with young Harry’s life under his overbearing handlers: “I think they’re keeping him caged in. Poor prince.”

With that, my envy went through the roof. I had spoken to Ms. Sevigny on a half dozen occasions over the years and always failed to impress her with my drunken inappropriate questions. Harry didn’t even have to go out to get the actress’s attention.

The writer Mr. Morris found this amusing: “Oh, oh, oh, you can’t, like, bother just, like, envying, I don’t know, Dana Vachon, something reasonable. You have to go for the prince, the thin prince. Nice idea, George. Ha-ha-ha-ha!”

The good vibe changed as soon as the pop star Madonna arrived with her kids and an entourage to rival the prince’s own massive security force.

Her bodyguards made sweeps, demanding to see wristbands, kicking people out of banquettes, all to make things safe and comfy for the most famous woman in the world. I overheard several revelers saying that she ruined everything.

For two hours, I had been free to roam the VIP tent but suddenly a security guy was on my case, too, demanding that I produce a silver wristband or leave. Somehow I slipped away but continued to fret about the inevitable hand on my shoulder. I prayed they’d be gentle about it and wouldn’t toss me out back by the porta potties.

As the polo match reached its dramatic conclusion, the Material Mom vaulted the VIP fence to get a closer look from the sidelines.

Why didn’t I think of that earlier?

The announcer boomed, “What a match, what a game, what a beautiful day! What a great day for charity! What a great day for polo!”

As Madonna climbed back over the fence to her banquette, she stumbled, fell forward and grabbed onto a tent pole, which came toppling down in the direction of her children. Miraculously, they were saved.

“I’ve had no champagne, officer,” she said, laughing.

With reporting by Caitlin Keating

George and Harry: Our Special Correspondent Gets the Royal Stiff-Arm at Star-Studded Manhattan Polo Classic