Appearance: Rugger bugger. Junior Action Man. Toothy inbred aristo beefed up. As the offspring of a mother reputed to resemble a mare and an instantly forgettable father, he has done reasonably well out of the thin gene pool at his disposal.
Guy's the word: Peter was voted top pin-up in a gay paper, as well as beating Prince William as top royal heartthrob in a more, well, mainstream poll. As ninth in line to the throne, no doubt there is a future career for a host of skinny, cut-glass, blonde girly wirlies.
Sporty spice: Frequently to be spotted in a Barbour, grimacing over a rugby ball and flexing his mighty tendons behind a speed boat. Thus he is destined to be the perfect practitioner of silly royal habits such as flinging oneself out of planes and fighting Argentinians. A Scottish Schools rugby international, the former head boy of Gordonstoun skis, rides and yachts like a muscle-bound love god. No, Peter will not be found mincing around theatres with a clipboard, deserting the Marines, whispering to plants... Prince Philip, the world's most disappointed patriarch, refers to him as "a golden boy". He wishes to join the Royal Marines after studying sports science at Exeter University.
Fame prospects: Prince William will soon put his commoner cousin's testosterone in the shade. Thus Peter Phillips had better get into a sex scrape, make marquetry humidors, marry an aggressive photographer or run up some decent debts if he is to stand any chance of glittering fame. Or he could be the next Will Carling? But we know where that kind of thing leads. What goes around comes around, young Peter.