1 Lolly Dolly

Having dabbled in lifestyle PR, Lolly Dolly, who is in her late twenties, now hangs out with the Euro-flash set. None of the girls work ­ the boys are hedge-fund managers in their thirties, so why would they? They chill on yachts, in hotel courtyards and on hot terraces with designer decking. Lolly Dolly flicks her Mischa Barton hair to and fro and wafts about in jewel-encrusted kaftans, cropped blue jeans or denim minis, apricot Chloé loafers and a Chanel hand-me-down handbag. She has a gold signet ring on her little finger. She's more stylish than a girl with rich, blue-blooded parents deserves to be. She wears a Cartier Tankissime watch. It matches the fountain pen her godfather gave her on her 21st. She likes the watch (especially the 18k gold bracelet ­ she's not so sure about the Roman numerals), but is hoping Jasper will propose because she fancies a Cartier Declaration. It has a sweet solitaire diamond and is wrapped in rings of white gold and diamonds ­ seriously tasteful bling in Lolly Dolly's book.

2 New Spiritualist

With her post-Christian, anti-corporate beliefs, the New Spiritualist may seem Zeitgeisty. But this focused, no-frills thirtysomething has been following this path for some time. She runs an art gallery specialising in pieces by Eastern spiritualists. What she wears to work she wears at weekends, too: cropped black cigar pants, black ballet pumps and peachy cashmere V-necks from Brora, not Primark, often with a crisp white shirt underneath. Her hair is short and sleek, her accessories minimal: perhaps a silver Ethiopian cross hung on a strand of black leather, matched with one thin silver bracelet over her black Alessi Kaj watch (she loves the orange hour hand; it's her link with the East), and the synthetic diamond studs in her ears. Strictly no make-up. The Agoy yoga mat on her shoulder is a permanent fixture, as is the bottle of Evian in one hand and the non-designer black fabric tote.

3 Candy Girl

Candy Girl models herself on Liz Hurley, but eats more raisins ­ just. Married and in her mid-forties, life is an eternal summer for perma-tanned Candy Girl, who dresses only in white, with flashes of baby-doll pink. She was straight on to white drainpipes, which she is still wearing with white ribbed biker vests, a white studded belt, and strawberries-and-cream polka-dot wedges. She loves this season's cropped jackets and has just bought one in rose. She is thinking of getting a white tiered maxi-skirt. Her hair is blonde, and straight like Barbie's. Her fat sunglasses appear to be Superglued to her head. She has a pretty Chanel watch that winks with white diamonds and pink sapphires. She makes sure her nails match. She usually gets them done with Mini Me, her teenage daughter, when they go to the spa together.

4 Mother Courage

This dignified bird in her fifties has never followed trends, but now finds herself considered rather modern and heroic by her children's friends. She is a gardener, a keeper of chickens, a committee member, a morally rigorous lawyer's wife and mother of four, and a natural green (she has a water butt, rations the bath water, and re-uses jam jars and wrapping paper). Her car is a very old Volvo ­ it's good for the labradors. Her watch is a recycled Girard-Perregaux 1945 lady's automatic. She inherited it from a rich aunt and keeps it on even when gardening. She spends wisely and wears navy frocks by Toast or Nicole Farhi for lunch parties, accessorised with amber necklaces ­ worn in threes ­ and fat, Cleopatra-esque bangles made of solid gold. She wears espadrilles when in the South of France, J. P. Todds in the UK. Her summer handbag is a basket from Provence. Her grey hair is fringed and longish ­ a bit like Jilly Cooper's, as is her generous laugh.

5 Golden boy

Life is about rolling with the waves (and anything else nature can throw at him) for 23-year-old Golden Boy. His day job (designing logos and stuff for an eco-adventure company) funds his wholesome habits: surfing, wakeboarding, skateboarding, rollerblading and skiing, at least one of which he does non-stop every weekend, in-between channel-surfing for anything to do with Formula One.

In his dreams, he wears a TAG Heuer Microtimer. Even his girlfriend has the specs off by heart: wrist chronograph measuring down to 1/1000th of a second, steel case with black digital display, sleek rubber strap. In reality, he wears the Swatch his mum gave him when he passed his A levels, along with a uniform of baggy jeans riding on his hips, vintage T-shirts (or ones with admonishing slogans), trendy two-colour trainers and loads of gap-year bracelets ­ strands of leather, woven cotton, something silver ­ from his stint at the orphanage in Africa. He is never without his iPod and his messy hair is sun-kissed all year round.

6 Easy Rider

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