THE FIRPO POCHETTE
“I remember my grandmother’s stories about Firpo’s in Calcutta—the grand tea room and cabaret. The sprung floor where maharanis and merchants, and debutantes and officers waltzed and cha cha-ed. Clutching pearls and pochettes between puddings and roasts. It was the gateway to the beautiful and powerful.”
THE SABYA WRISTLET
A little tiny practicality.
THE BABY TIGER
The audacity of small precious things is priceless.
THE PARK STREET
“Saturday nights. 1970s. Calcutta’s Park Street. The boys in batik silk shirts with boot cut jeans, the girls in their imported dresses and towering heels spilling out of their Benzes in a tangle. Shimmying between Mocambo and Peter Cat, Trinca’s and Blue Fox. Young, restless and hands free—gyrating the night away.”
