Sparkling Sunday

Cartier at the V&A

Last Sunday, I did something wonderfully indulgent. I drove into London for a mother-daughter get-together with Alicia, who, in her mid-twenties, is carving out her own little empire in the big city, but still makes time for her mum.

Our destination was the Victoria and Albert Museum in Kensington, where we were using my membership card to just walk into the much-talked-about Cartier exhibition.

I confess that I love a bit of sparkle. Give me a chandelier or even a sequin, and I’m lost. So, the promise of an entire series of rooms full of Cartier’s finest was enough to lure me off the sofa and behind the wheel, even on a Sunday.

I found a spot not too far from the museum (that’s why I go on Sundays), and before I’d even walked to the steps, I heard Alicia call from behind me, beaming and holding a mysterious flat parcel, which smelt incredibly delicious.

She handed it to me with justifiable pride. Inside was a still-warm loaf of home-made focaccia, speckled with tomatoes, pumpkin seeds, and walnuts. She’d got up early to bake it. One for her and one for us, “Just because,” she shrugged, as if this were an everyday offering. It’s moments like this that remind me she’s not just my child but also my best friend in disguise.

The focaccia was carefully laid to rest in the car boot, a treasure to enjoy later, and we joined the Sunday procession up the V&A’s grand stone steps. I always feel excitement when entering through those glass doors. It’s a cabinet of curiosities masquerading as a museum.

The Cartier exhibition takes over a series of dimly lit rooms, each more dazzling than the last. I don’t think either of us spoke for the first five minutes. Our eyes were too busy drinking in the diamonds and rubies, pearls and sapphires that glowed and sparkled in the glass cases.

One room in particular, the Tiara Room, felt like stepping into a fairytale. It was arranged with round viewing cases, each showcasing at least three tiaras. Some were fragile, others literally made from steel. These glittering coronets once perched on the heads of queens and princesses. Some were commissioned by Russian aristocrats before the Revolution, others crowned British debutantes making their entrance into society. Just imagine the stories they could tell!

Cartier, we learned, had been at the centre of it all. A French jeweller with an international spirit. His designers borrowed inspiration from Egypt, China, India, Russia, Japan - each influence was perfectly infused into bracelets, brooches, earrings, and magnificent necklaces fit for a maharajah. I spotted a dazzling choker made over a century ago that had recently circled Rihanna’s neck at a red carpet event.

Alicia and I started playing our favourite game. From each case, we had to pick just one piece to take home - practicality be damned. She gravitated towards the deep, rich colours that suit her so well. I fell in love with an entire case of jewels that belonged to Wallis Simpson, the wife of Edward VIII. A woman who definitely had a penchant for panthers!

Occasionally, we’d pause and lean in to read a label - who commissioned this piece, which Grand Duchess lost it, which Maharaja arrived in London with trunks of gemstones to have them reset by Cartier. It was more than just jewellery, it was a glimpse into how power, fashion, and global influences coincided at a time when royalty had more sway and elegance meant something different to everyone.

We must have spent a good two hours wandering from one glass case to the next, heads bent together, pointing out favourite details and nudging each other with, “That one’s very you…”

By the time we emerged into the shop at the end, we were poised to buy mini tiaras of our own, with the real intention of manufacturing an occasion to wear them, with or without jeans. Sadly, nothing was quite right, but we realised we were both a little giddy from all the opulence.

A visit to the Member’s Dining Room helped stave off this new hunger for emeralds. A quick lunch and a glass of wine later, and we were fortified to visit one of the main galleries to round things off.

If you can, do go to the V&A and treat yourself to a few hours of sparkle and history. And then share the memories like a bite of warm focaccia!

Thank you for reading The Chilterns Diaries - it’s hugely appreciated! Please do leave a like, a comment or a restack to spread the word, thank you ❤️❤️❤️

PS. I’ll be taking a break for the next couple of weeks and will return with new posts later in July ☀️ ☀️