The Wedding Jewelry Edit
As a millennial Indian, I grew up on Judy Blume, Francine Pascal and One Tree Hill, alongside a few other (questionable) choices. With an underlying affinity for drama, it wasn’t surprising that India’s favorite queen Karan Johar’s movies also made the list (no one better than Shahrukh Khan!)
The drama in all of these worlds was underscored by life events that somehow turned tragic, or led to twists we saw coming a mile away but lapped up anyway. The only distinguishing feature across all these content choices of mine was the fashion - especially for the weddings.
One side saw bursts of colors, myriads in every frame and sentence. Layers of fabrics, jewels, adornments, and opinions. On the other end of the spectrum were beautiful gowns, delicate jewelry, and rehearsed seating (which were basically cliffhangers to more drama).
Through it all, my generation was there for it. I loved everything about it. Imagining being a part of these worlds and living vicariously through another’s vision was perhaps the first place where I started putting ‘looks’ together in my head.
Speaking of rehearsal dinners and bridesmaid drama, I adore the first reveal of the bride when she walks down the aisle. There is something about the frothy clouds of white fabric that float around a tightly fitted bodice, set against the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. Set off with drops of glistening jewels, it’s so poetic.
For me, one of the most perfect dresses was Anne Hathaway's in The Princess Diaries. I remember thinking how lovely the off-shoulder bodice looked with her earrings. That was over 20 years ago. Today, I get messages from brides about how they want a pair of earrings for their wedding day, or how much they loved a piece of ours they wore. Surreal, isn’t it?
Subconsciously, those dreams turned into a reality, and here I am 'completing' looks.
It's funny, though. The more weddings I've seen, the more I've realized that what initially fascinated me wasn't just the jewelry. It was the stark difference in the flavor of the celebrations.
Indian weddings have always celebrated abundance. Layers of fabrics, bright colors, more people than rooms can comfortably hold, lights, music, and jewelry fit for a royal courtroom - stacks of necklaces, bangles, gold-embroidered fabrics, and flowers. Flowers in the hair, in the décor, almost everywhere you look. Every detail in this kaleidoscope is layered with the aroma of food and incense; they blend in, yet somehow manage to stand out.
“White weddings” (I’m really liking this nomenclature) are the opposite. Everything about them is more ‘muted’. The wedding gown is almost always a lovely shade of white. The venue is rustic, posh, and sophisticatedly set up. A common reference that comes to mind even for the most sophisticated Indian wedding is ‘loud’. In contrast, Western wedding jewelry is often generational - little treasures passed down, glinting like drops of light on the ears, wrists, or throat.
Even the flowers are handpicked to bask in the glorious sunlit colors of such a ceremony. Everything feels intentional, almost as though someone kept asking, "Do we really need this?" until only the essentials remained, lingering in our memories. Perhaps this is why they say ‘less is more’.
This intentionality makes you focus on the little details - the way someone laughs as they settle in. The way the father of the bride straightens his daughter's veil, or the way the groom’s eyes grow soft as his bride makes her appearance. The shape of the bouquet, the silence before the music begins. And, of course, the jewelry. Not because there's more of it, but because there isn't.
I've often tried to remember the weddings that have stayed with me over the years. I couldn't tell you much beyond the “vibe” and the jewelry (call it an occupational hazard). I remember a long pearl drop a very bejeweled aunty was wearing, and a fantastic polki bracelet disappearing beneath the sleeve of a silk gown only to appear again for another sip of bubbly.
But I also remember wondering how a bride must be holding up under the weight of her 20 lbs lehenga and the kilos of gold adorning every exposed part of her skin. Sitting there demure (and perhaps bored out of her mind) as the priest drones through hours of pujas and vows. Being a witness to multiple such ceremonies made me vow that I would design opulent yet truly lightweight jewelry, so no one would have to 'painfully’ sit through the ordeal. (I did, and it was absolutely worth it.)
Handcrafted in gold, silver, polki and gemstones
It's strange what memory decides to keep. Sometimes a piece of jewelry becomes inseparable from the dress it was worn with, so much so that years later, I can't picture one without the other.
Maybe that's why bridal jewelry has always felt different from every other kind. The decision isn’t impulsive; it carries the weight of how personal it feels and how it makes you feel. It's picked for the photograph that will live on a wall for decades. For children who will one day inherit it. For anniversaries spent remembering details that have been forgotten. And perhaps that's why certain pieces never really leave us.
Pearls, for instance.
Every generation seems convinced it has rediscovered them. Grace Kelly wore them with an elegance that still defines bridal dressing. Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy stripped everything back until pearls felt like a striking, sculptural focal point. Today, they're worn with sleek satin gowns, tailored bridal suits, and even short dresses that would have scandalized previous generations.
Carolyn Bessette Kennedy
The pearl itself hasn't changed. We’ve simply expanded our expression with them, celebrating them in all their unique glory.
The same has happened with botanical jewelry. Weddings have always been about nature. From celebrating the underlying inevitability of ‘family life’ to the literal flowers and vines that climb arches and spill across tables, it feels inevitable that jewelry too followed the same path.
Leaves. Vines. Blossoms. Petals.
Not literal enough to feel like a costume, but recognizable enough to feel romantic. Some of the most beautiful bridal looks I've seen incorporate nature in some way. So much of Indian artisanship is inspired by motifs from nature - flowers, birds, animals, leaves. I recently designed a bespoke set for a cross-cultural Indian wedding where the bride was keen to celebrate her husband’s South Indian culture through her jewelry. As an art curator herself, these details were of special importance to her. The earrings were peacock-inspired, the necklaces were made up of flora and fauna, and her maatha patti (headband) reminisced on the power of the sun and the moon. Stories within beauty.
The pieces I love aren't necessarily the biggest or the most elaborate. They're the ones that are made up of stories and go on to become part of others’ stories. The earrings someone reaches for again on their first anniversary. The necklace that makes another appearance at a christening years later. The bracelet that gets borrowed by a sister, then a daughter.
The dress is carefully packed away.
The flowers eventually fade.
The cake is eaten.
But the jewelry keeps collecting memories long after the wedding itself has become one.
Maybe that's why I've always loved weddings—because beneath all the grandeur, candles, and celebrations, they remind us that the things we hold onto are rarely the grand gestures.
