Remembering My Great-Uncle, David Sassoon (1932–2025)

A personal tribute by Harry Sassoon, Derbyshire Jewish Community Co-Coordinator

My great-uncle, David Sassoon, passed away last night at the age of 92. His presence in our family — and in British cultural life — was unmistakable: quiet yet iconic, and his loss is deeply felt.

David was born in London in 1932 to Iraqi-Jewish parents, Gourgi and Victoria Sassoon, who had come to Britain from Baghdad. The family were part of the Sephardi Jewish community and brought with them rich traditions, warmth, and a deep sense of heritage. He was the younger brother of my grandfather, Victor Sassoon (1929–2016), to whom I was very close.

During the Blitz, the Sassoon family — like many Jewish families — chose to evacuate to Llandudno, North Wales. The town became a wartime haven not only for London’s Sephardic community but also for Sephardic families from Manchester. Together, they created a temporary but vibrant Jewish life in the heart of Wales — a place of safety, community, and continuity during some of Britain’s darkest days.

David went on to leave a lasting mark on British fashion history as the co-founder and lead designer of Belville Sassoon, a couture house known for dressing royalty, high society, and celebrities alike. Perhaps most famously, he designed many of Princess Diana’s early public outfits — helping to define a style that captured the imagination of a generation.

Over the decades, David became part of a rarefied circle of cultural icons. He counted among his friends the likes of Cilla Black, Sir Michael Caine, and others who, like him, helped shape the creative and social landscape of post-war Britain. Yet despite these high-profile connections, he never carried himself with pretension. His friendships, like his fashion, were grounded in warmth, wit, and authenticity.

David’s career brought him into the heart of royal life — sometimes a little too literally. One infamous family story involves a moment of sheer panic inside Buckingham Palace. While delivering dresses for Princess Diana, David was navigating the corridors with an armful of garments when he needed to open a door. With his hands full, he gave it a firm push with his elbow — only for it to swing open fast and smack Prince William, whose head was unfortunately at perfect door-handle height.

Prince William went down flat. For a few terrifying seconds, David was convinced he’d just killed the future King of England. But thankfully, Prince William burst into tears and ran straight into the room where Princess Diana was waiting. She scooped him up and comforted him with a cuddle, while David stood there, utterly mortified. It was the kind of moment that stayed with him for life — a blend of fashion, royalty, and sheer chaos.

Despite mixing in glamorous circles, David was never one for the limelight. He was known for his humility, his sense of style, and his ability to make the women he dressed feel confident, elegant, and seen. A few months after my grandfather passed away, David invited my now-wife and me to dinner at his home in London — a simple, thoughtful act of kindness that I’ll always remember.

David’s passing is a loss to the worlds of fashion, heritage, and family. But his story — from wartime Llandudno to royal wardrobes — will continue to be told, not only for its glamour, but for its humanity.

May his memory be for a blessing. Baruch Dayan Ha’emet.