In India, for countless young girls, the first notion of beauty doesn’t come from television or glossy magazines. It begins at home, often in a quiet moment—watching their mother wrap a sari, line her eyes with kajal, dab on a touch of rouge, and reach into that ever-tangled jewelry box that smells faintly of sandalwood and stories. That box may hold a string of yellowed pearls, a gold bangle knotted with memory, or a brooch once pinned on a wedding lehenga decades ago. These aren’t mere objects. They’re vessels of emotion. They’re not just worn—they're remembered.
In India, beauty has always been inherited—visually, emotionally, spiritually. The way a sari falls, the shimmer of a jadau necklace, or the flick of eyeliner—these are not simply aesthetic choices, but lessons passed down like family recipes. Jewelry, in particular, carries the weight of lineage. It is identity wrapped in gold, culture encrusted in emeralds, and memory strung through pearls.
It is this delicate balance between legacy and personal style that set the tone for Vogue Wedding Atelier’s Editor’s High Tea, held recently in the lush city of Chandigarh. Hosted by Rochelle Pinto, Head of Editorial Content at Vogue India, alongside creative consultant Simran Grewal, and presented by HSBC with Laneige as the gifting partner, the event was more than just an afternoon soiree. It was a celebration of heritage, femininity, and the enduring magic of heirloom adornments. Every woman present was not just dressed—they were dressed in history.
Simran Grewal herself was the embodiment of this narrative. She wore a striking emerald and diamond brooch inherited from her mother, layered with a string of pearls creatively styled as a belt, and traditional gold kadhas hugging her wrists. Her look seamlessly fused old-world elegance with contemporary charm, showing how heirlooms need not be locked in a cupboard—they are meant to be lived in, reinvented, and cherished anew.
Each guest arrived with a story, dressed in heirlooms that whispered across generations. Ginny Walia, for instance, wore a silver parandi and a matching kamarbandh, both nearly a century old and passed down from her husband’s grandmother. These weren’t mere accessories but echoes of ancestral rituals.
Raman Garg Nagpal wore a 60-year-old necklace gifted to her by her grandmother-in-law, while Nanki Arora Singh layered treasures from three different women: a pearl necklace from her paternal grandmother, earrings from her husband’s grandmother, and a gemstone-studded bracelet inherited from her maternal grandmother. These layered legacies told stories of migration, marriage, and motherhood—all embodied in a single outfit.
Content creator Tania Abrol wore emerald earrings that originally belonged to her maternal grandmother, but were later re-set into a new design by her mother—who intends to pass them down to Tania’s daughter. This is not merely the recycling of stones; it’s the reimagining of heritage. Each generation leaves its imprint, forging emotional value that far outweighs monetary worth.
One of the most poignant examples of maternal connection came from fashion designer Sameera Auluck from Ludhiana and her daughter Nandika. Sameera wore a classic gold necklace, earrings, and a vintage watch—pieces from her great-great-grandmother’s bridal set. Nandika, in turn, styled her own family history with a four-generation-old diamond necklace, her grandmother’s watch, and her mother’s handbag. It was a visual expression of intergenerational bonding, where heirlooms acted as emotional bridges between past and future.
Stories of lost moments were also brought to light. Rohini Mukherjee arrived wearing a 58-year-old Banarasi sari—one her mother had received from her grandfather when she was just sixteen. The sari was meant for a graduation celebration, but a national strike that day meant the tailor’s shop was closed, and the fall couldn’t be stitched. Her mother never wore it. Rohini wore it exactly as it had been left, unfinished yet full of memory, giving closure to a moment suspended in time.
Other guests embraced heritage with similar reverence and creativity. Divya Kapoor wore sapphire and diamond earrings passed down from her grandmother to her mother, then to her. Sabina Kapoor displayed an impressive Colombian emerald and diamond set once owned by her grandfather. Ruhi Syal adorned a sparkling polki choker from her mother-in-law, which she now wears with joy and pride.
Honey Mehra juxtaposed two continents in her look: a 50-year-old fig-leaf-shaped necklace crafted by her mother, and a striking African piece gifted by her aunt. For Geetanjali Singh, her emerald necklace had an unusual origin—it was mined from her grandfather’s own mines in Africa. Her friend Keerat Jawandha paired a delicate emerald necklace with a Parisian gold clutch passed down by her nani. Global histories found local expression.
Some heirlooms came with royal lineage. Pritasha Grewal wore regal jewels once owned by the Maharani of Kapurthala, passed from her great-grandmother-in-law to her mother-in-law, and now to her. Wearing them wasn’t just an act of adornment, but a quiet defiance of forgetfulness—restoring memory to the forefront.
Others reimagined legacy through design. Neeru Agarwal had her husband’s grandmother’s vintage jewelry redesigned, honoring their shared emotional bond. Galina Baath’s layered pearl and kundan necklace was part of her grandmother’s bridal look; her daughter Kamal wore her mother-in-law’s wedding earrings. Meha Singh incorporated a Rajput bridal headpiece inherited from her mother-in-law into a modern ensemble, proving how tradition can evolve with time.
These transformations reflect not just style choices, but a shift in how Indian women are redefining ownership and identity. Heirlooms are no longer hidden until a wedding day. They are worn to brunches, festivals, family gatherings—not to preserve them in vaults, but to imbue them with new life.
It’s also a quiet revolution. For generations, jewelry in Indian families has represented informal financial security. Especially in matrilineal handovers, a woman’s jewelry often becomes her fallback in uncertain times—a form of wearable savings. But now, it is also becoming a powerful medium of self-expression.
This shift is evident in how many younger women are choosing to reset or remix their inherited jewelry. Sahej Singh, for example, wore a gold-lined choker featuring pale tanzanite stones, reimagined by her aunt from a 100-year-old heirloom. Tanu Singh wore a rare jadau necklace gifted by her mother-in-law, and Himani Arora combined her maternal grandmother’s heavy polki bangles with a delicate neckpiece from her husband’s side of the family. They are not discarding the old—they are layering it with the new.
Beyond the sparkle and silk, what this gathering in Chandigarh captured was the emotional architecture of womanhood in India. The hidden stitches of family, the silent nods of approval from mothers and grandmothers long gone, the continuity of love wrapped around the wrist, resting on the collarbone, dangling from the earlobes. This wasn’t just an exhibition of fashion. It was an archive of affection.
Indian heirloom jewelry often carries craftsmanship dating back centuries—meenakari, jadau, kundan, polki, navaratna arrangements. These aren’t merely styles but legacies of artisanal excellence. By wearing them, women are not just honoring their families—they are sustaining ancient crafts, supporting generational artisans, and preserving cultural vocabularies that have outlived empires.
The Vogue Wedding Atelier’s Editor’s High Tea was ultimately not just an ode to elegance, but a celebration of endurance. In the rush of modern life, where trends flip with seasons, these women reminded us that real style is anchored in story, and that beauty, at its most powerful, is always personal.
The afternoon in Chandigarh did more than showcase saris and jewels—it brought together memory and modernity, ritual and reinvention, women and their worlds. It reminded us that heirlooms are not just treasures of the past—they are declarations of identity, wearable histories, and above all, they are proof that love—like gold—never tarnishes.