New York to Texas, Argentina to England – I grew up on endless stories of American polo and its larger-than-life characters, told to me by my uncle, Stewart B Iglehart Jr. Regarded as an icon by those in the know, he came from a polo dynasty, and his memories spanned the 1940s to the 1960s.
Decades later, at a polo match in Wellington, Florida, the sport brought Julian Hipwood into my life. In walked this dashing gentleman, a man of few words who commanded attention without trying. He swept me off my feet – much, I suspect, to the dismay of a few ladies on the sidelines.
