I don’t know how I persuaded them but they gave their permission. I was 16 years old when my parents agreed that, if I saved enough money, I could buy an Interrail card and spend a whole month of the summer school holidays travelling around Europe by train with a friend. At the time I had a job at a local supermarket where, every Friday night and all-day Saturday, I got to stack the shelves, ferret out yoghurts beyond their sell-by dates and, my favourite, sit at the checkout. And so the piggy bank gradually filled up and an Interrail pass was purchased (entitling the bearer to free rail travel across Europe). Also bought: a Thomas Cook “European Timetable” that was about the size of a phone directory (if you remember them) and which listed all the key train schedules.

Over the following weeks we covered a lot of territory. One day we were in Sweden and the next in Austria. We even made it down to the south of France. Our accommodation was a tent or a night train (we scanned the directory for ones that would allow for a decent night’s sleep). We lived off of bread and cheese. My contribution to the GDP of each country we visited was close to zero – I was a cheapskate backpacker. We were living the dream.

There is a good and much-needed debate taking place about how cities can manage tourism in a way that delivers benefits to the citizenry and doesn’t create models where the prevalence of Airbnb’s, for example, erodes the availability of affordable housing for locals to rent. This is a wise and healthy conversation to have. So why does some of the language used make me uneasy?

When you speak to politicians, activists and tourist chiefs, often their proposed solution to the problems they are facing is to get rid of the “bad tourists” and focus on the “good” ones. They talk about making more money from fewer people (day trippers are to be replaced by folk happy to stay a week in five-star accommodation), of attracting people who will spend time delving into the local culture and not just drinking cocktails on the beach all day. In this battle to reshape tourism, the 16-year-old me would today struggle to find myself on any city’s wish list of potential visitors, even if, like many a backpacker, that hurried trip gave me a passion to return to cities again and again and hand over increasing amounts of my salary.

But even the backpacker is held in higher esteem than the true scum of the earth: the mass tourist. These people are the lowest. They arrive by coach and cruise ship, they buy all-inclusive hotel deals, they drink to excess, they move in swarms and they don’t even appreciate the local handicrafts. 

Before my parents dropped dead, they were rather partial to a coach-trip holiday organised by their club. Should such people really be excluded from having a holiday just because they can no longer drive? I got chatting to a retired lady at Palma airport the other day who had just been on an all-inclusive holiday and loved it – her husband had died and she wanted, she told me, somewhere that would sort everything for her. Does she need to stay at home now? I know lots of people who love a cruise – are they at fault when they step off the ship if the streets fill up? Or is the problem port-city leaders who fail to control the size or number of ships docking? When a family just wants a week at the beach, the only holiday they’ll get all year, does this really make them “bad” tourists?

Cities that struggle from over-demand should, of course, look at how they reduce the total numbers of visitors. But when you start doing this on the basis of wealth and class then you lose sympathy. Travel is a wonderful thing. Time away is an amazing privilege. Sun on our faces is restorative. Let’s not make this a freedom unavailable to nice regular folk – or smelly teenage backpackers.

Carolina Castiglioni usually designs her label’s biannual collections with herself in mind, so venturing into menswear didn’t come naturally (writes Natalie Theodosi). “There was demand, especially from Japanese male customers who kept coming into our boutiques to shop for themselves,” says Castiglioni, who realised that most of Plan C’s designs – slim tailoring, roomy cotton shirts, workwear-inspired parkas and denim jackets – could work for men.

“There have always been menswear inspirations in my work, so we focused on unisex pieces that can be styled in different ways,” says the Milanese designer, who unveiled her first men’s collection at last summer’s Pitti Uomo. From the beginning, Plan C’s successful formula has been high-quality wardrobe classics sprinkled with novelty and excitement via the right accessories. You’ll find the label’s menswear designs at its standalone boutiques in Tokyo and Osaka this season, as well as a handful of multi-brand boutiques such as Dallas’s Forty Five Ten.
plan-c.com

It’s ironic when a cry for individuality becomes a global phenomenon (writes Grace Charlton). Cutesy bag charms can now be seen swinging and clanging off suede Miu Miu bags or, better yet, irreverently clipped on to a Birkin by Hermès (starting price €8,950). One brand catering to this childlike desire to collect tiny trinkets to parade around town is Labubu, the brainchild of Hong Kong-born artist Kasing Lung. From Sydney to Seoul, these fluffy, cloyingly cute figurines with scrunched-up faces are dangling off the arms of fully grown adults.

Luxury brands are also contributing to the craze. Loewe retails popular bag charms in the shapes of tomatoes, ice cream cones and chow chow dogs. Bottega Veneta applies its signature intrecciato, a braided-leather technique, to create animal keyrings. Jokes of arrested development aside, as the luxury industry raises prices to brace for a downturn, smaller items such as key chains, bag charms or lipsticks represent an entry point for consumers with less-disposable incomes. We can only hope that this particular sartorial statement reaches critical mass and fizzles out – no doubt for the next totally unique item to take its place.

“Where are we headed?” asked a moustached man in a Saville Row suit so sharp that it would have made Tom Wolfe feel underdressed (writes Blake Matich). “Haven’t the foggiest,” said a tall gent in a pith helmet. “But someone’s in charge, surely?” No one was. But that was precisely the point of this saunter sans purpose. And so the accidental leaders of some 100 dandies ambled off – perhaps by muscle memory – in the direction of Soho.

Granted, the intrepid duo didn’t have far to go. The Grand Flaneur Walk, organised by Chap magazine and now in its fifth year, starts at the statue of Beau Brummell in St James’s and has no set destination. Brummell, the quintessential 19th-century dandy who spent a mere five hours getting dressed each day, once said that “to be truly elegant one should not be noticed.” By that logic, this writer was among the event’s most elegantly invisible participants. It’s hard to stand out when the person next to you is wearing a floral-patterned Gucci suit with a straw boater and the serene expression of someone who has never heard of cargo pants. Another attendee was dressed like an 18th-century corsair after a particularly lucrative raid: period buckle shoes, velvet dress breeches to the knees, a waistcoat that looked incomplete without a pair of flintlock pistols and a cravat accessorised by – wait for it – another cravat. Even London made an effort with a day adorned in clement May sunshine. 
 
To read the full piece, click here.

Visit: Welt: Evening with Otzi at Grenson, London

To coincide with London Craft Week (a citywide celebration of UK makers that comes to an end tomorrow), shoemakers Grenson and furniture maker Otzi have collaborated on an exhibition at Grenson’s Lamb’s Conduit Street shop. Pop in over the weekend to peruse the fine handmade-leather goods and maybe even pick up one of the pair’s workshop stools. Crafted by Otis Ingrams of Otzi and inspired by classic workshop seating, the stool incorporates a distinctive shoe-welt detail in a nod to Grenson’s Goodyear-welted footwear.
grenson.com; otzi.ltd

Watch: The Phoenician Scheme, Wes Anderson

Beloved auteur Wes Anderson returns with this globetrotting espionage thriller. Regular collaborators Benicio del Toro, Willem Dafoe and Bill Murray are in tow, along with some intriguing first-timers, including Michael Cera, Riz Ahmed and Mia Threapleton. The tone is darker than Anderson’s typical work but, as with all of his films, artful symmetry, cool costuming and deadpan humour are all part of the neat package. 
‘The Phoenician Scheme’ is released on 23 May

Read: Suspicion, Seichō Matsumoto, translated by Jesse Kirkwood

Author and publisher Roberto Calasso once called Seichō Matsumoto, who is best known for crime fiction, “the Simenon of Japan”. In this new translation of a taut 1982 novella, a former Tokyo hostess seduces a businessman. After their wedding they are involved in a car crash; he drowns, she survives. The question is whether the defence lawyer who takes her case is helping an innocent woman or falling into a moral quagmire. 
‘Suspicion’ is published on 29 May

Most of Switzerland’s watch houses have been shifting their focus to the premium end of the market. Yet Longines has maintained a clear point of differentiation with competitively priced timepieces without sacrificing Swiss quality and innovation. The label, with a long heritage in sports watches, has been enjoying a renewed appetite for its vintage styles, such as the Conquest Heritage and the DolceVita. Matthias Breschan, CEO of Longines, tells us more about the brand’s 2025 agenda.

Is competitive pricing a key part of your strategy?
Longines is positioned in the CHF1,000 to CHF5,000 (€1,040 to €5,200) range. The company’s ongoing goal is to bring state-of-the-art technology and components into this affordable-price segment. This is crucial.

Is ‘Made in Switzerland’ still important in this market?
Origin of production is very important in the watch industry and Longines has been producing all its watches in St-Imier, Switzerland, since 1832. This uninterrupted history and ability to track the components of every watch are key differentiating factors for the brand.

What are your priorities this year?
Longines’ sales are evenly divided between sporty and classic watches, and female and male customers. In addition to the new heritage models, we’re selling vintage watches and younger buyers are becoming interested in these styles. The only problem is that they sell out so quickly.
longines.com

For more timely insights, subscribe to Monocle. Have a super Saturday.

Last Friday I headed to Palma. It was for a mission: to bring the partner and hound to London by car, ferry and train. They had been there for several weeks, enjoying a very nice life while I scurried around to the likes of Jakarta for The Chiefs conference. Now, however, the band needed to be reunited and the dog had to see her oncologist (yes, all is OK).

That evening, ahead of the Saturday morning ferry, we drove out of the city and through the mountain tunnel to Sóller before weaving along the wriggly road that takes you up the valley’s side. This route eventually deposits you in the town of Deià. But just before you breach the brow of the hill, there’s the Hotel Corazón. This was our destination.

The hotel, run by fashion photographer Kate Bellm and her partner Edgar Lopez, attracts a crowd that’s a little hippy, a little arty, dresses easy cool and can still pay a decent bill. But I’ll write about this properly another time. The point of today’s story is more about that funny thing that sometimes happens – “the moment”. That odd, magical fusing of the elements that just sneaks up on you.

There were only a few occupied tables when we arrived unfashionably early – well, 20.00. A couple of hotel guests were still finishing off their novels in silence as the sun set. But we were oblivious to everyone as we had a spot on a cocooning curved sofa where the view was of the slowly blackening valley below, of the firefly-like flashes of car headlights blinking through the dusk-draped trees.

There was a warm wind racing up the valley side, rattling the piles of menus. It should have been annoying but it lent the evening a special quality – plus we were nicely sheltered by that enveloping upholstery. The food was delicious, the wine perfect. The waiter could have been cast as Jesus in a movie – his long hair frantically dancing in the wind like the tendrils of a sea anemone in a buffeting ocean current. Even the music added to the moment – there was something of a Shazam-fest taking place on my phone. And at our feet the dog dozed, occasionally opening an eye to clock the precise location of the resident cats.

As we drove back towards the city, I knew that we had had a perfect moment. But why? Of course, there’s the place and the food – but it wouldn’t have happened without the wind, without our Christ-like waiter, without Tom Paxton and Gram Parsons whispering from the sound system. You can plan fancy dinners to the nth degree and rehearse every second of an encounter but sometimes the perfect moment appears unexpectedly on the breeze.

Saturday was spent on a Baleària ferry heading to Barcelona. There were very few cars on board but a lot of trucks. It wasn’t Hotel Corazón but there was wi-fi. As the ferry came into the city, a thick mist wrapped around us and so the captain repeatedly blasted his foghorn to ensure our presence was known. A night then followed at the home of friends who have been in our lives for decades. The dog crazy to see them, howling with delight.

And then the road trip. I get to be DJ and I have a playlist of songs netted with the aid of Shazam that are all markers of moments, of places, of fleeting encounters. An audio scrapbook on my phone. There was “Dale Comba” by Canelita, harvested from a taxi ride in Palma, and Elvis Martínez with “Tu Secreto”, snatched from a bar in Barcelona on the drive down a few weeks before. A reminder of Milan and Salone came care of Ermal Meta and Giuliano Sangiorgi’s track, “Una Cosa Più Grande”. There was Michel Sardou from Paris. Clara Luciani from a party at D90 in Zürich. 

But it was Tom Paxton’s “The Last Thing on My Mind” that was played repeatedly, its simple folk melody offering a return to the mountains – my other half becoming increasingly suspicious that I might be about to apply for a pot-washing job in a certain hotel.

Join us today in the courtyard of Midori House for the spring market celebrating the diverse gastronomy, culture and design that Portugal has to offer.

Swing by to browse Portuguese brands, including Claus Porto, La Paz, Util, Torres Novas, A Vida Portuguesa and the latest seasonal collections from The Monocle Shop and Trunk. Expect great coffee, pastéis de nata, afternoon port tonics and delicious bites.

No ticket required. 
10.00 – 18.00 today.
Midori House, 1 Dorset Street, London

The opening week of the Venice Architecture Biennale’s 19th edition was marked by deep, intellectual thinking, solutions-driven research and the occasional downpour (writes Grace Charlton). Now picture this: you’re a style-conscious architect who wouldn’t be caught dead in Gore-Tex or any such waterproof wear (you’re not an engineer, remember). You’ve picked out your favourite black turtleneck, bold eyewear and need some form of protection from the elements that won’t drag down your meticulous sartorial vision. The answer? A black leather blazer, of course.

A wander through the national pavilions at the Giardini della Biennale and the Arsenale revealed the black leather blazer to be the raincoat of choice for architects, including some of the most in-demand names such as Rem Koolhaas and Jean Nouvel (pictured). Quick-dry practicality aside, the appeal of leather lies in its ability to bring an edge to an otherwise pared-back look. Empowered by the hide, architects can enjoy the confidence required to impose their concrete ideas (and buildings) on society at large. It’s a smooth approach to rainwear that provides a sleek alternative to drab anoraks, or worse – the single-use plastic ponchos worn by Venice’s slow-walking hordes of tourists.

The 19th edition of the Venice Architecture Biennale opens to the public today. With 65 countries participating across La Serenissima, it can be hard to know where to go first. We suggest starting in the Giardini della Biennale, where three national pavilions have caught our eye.

USA
Porch: An Architecture of Generosity
The US’s neoclassical pavilion has been extended with a timber porch, an architectural feature strongly associated with the American South. “Porches are the most fascinating spaces in architecture,” says co-commissioner and architect Peter MacKeith. “They represent the space between absolute privacy and the public world. A porch is a space for encounters.”

Poland
Lares and Penates: On Building a Sense of Security in Architecture
How architecture can protect its inhabitants is the focus of the Polish pavilion. This might come in the form of alarms and fire-safety systems but also the customs that bring a sense of security to the home, such as a horseshoe placed above a doorway for good luck or a Polish wiecha, the wreath hung on a structure during its construction to bring fortune to the endeavour.  

Brazil
Re-invention
“Architectural findings from the Amazon rainforest show that it’s possible to find a symbiosis between humans and nature,” says Matheus Seco, architect at Plano Coletivo, the firm curating Brazil’s pavilion. “We should learn from our indigenous people and apply this to find balance in our cities.” The exhibition details how knowledge passed down from the country’s indigenous populations can inform contemporary architectural practices, from proper drainage to biophilia.

You have no doubt visited our website following its suave refit. But if you’re yet to make the journey from newsletter to .com – and especially if you’re planning a trip to Athens, Milan, Tokyo or elsewhere – then make sure that you have consulted our redesigned City Guides. The Monocle Concierge’s recommendations, from neighbourhoods and restaurants to ateliers and boutiques, are all there and can be downloaded to your device along with a neat map. If you’re flying to JFK, here’s one spot from our guide to New York:

The Maker Shop, Chelsea     
The Maker, a craft-focused boutique hotel in upstate New York, runs an elegant shopfront in Chelsea that stocks home and travel necessities, such as trunks and eye masks. It also hosts the hotel’s own perfume collection, which adheres to The Maker’s bohemian-luxe sensibility. 

For the first time in its history, the shortlist for this year’s International Booker Prize – the winner of which will be announced on 20 May – consists entirely of titles published by independent presses (writes Chloé Lake). Here are our three favourites to take home the award.

‘Under the Eye of the Big Bird’ by Hiromi Kawakami, tr., Asa Yoneda     
Kawakami’s tale is an unsettling exploration of humanity’s twilight. Set in a distant future, the novel develops through interconnected scenes that take place across aeons. Communities adapt to change in surreal ways: some individuals photosynthesise, others are cloned from animal DNA and all are overseen by artificial-intelligence entities known as “Mothers”. A disorienting yet profound meditation on identity, evolution and survival.
‘Under the Eye of the Big Bird’ is published by Granta Books

‘Small Boat’ by Vincent Delecroix, tr., Helen Stevenson
Written in just three weeks, French philosopher Vincent Delecroix’s fourth novel is based on a real-life event from 2021, when a dinghy carrying more than 30 migrants from France to the UK sank in the English Channel. The fictionalised account is narrated from the perspective of the migrants and the female radio operator who took their calls at the rescue centre and ultimately decided not to send help. What follows is an acute exploration of moral responsibility and apathy in the face of tragedy.
‘Small Boat’ is published by Small Axes

‘Heart Lamp’ by Banu Mushtaq, tr., Deepa Bhasthi    
Published originally in Kannada, a language spoken in Karnataka, India, Heart Lamp is a moving collection of short stories examining the everyday lives of women in southern India’s Muslim communities. The anthology is a keen critique of dogma, showing how caste, patriarchy and religious traditions restrict the lives of its characters. A lawyer and activist, Mushtaq reveals that each of the 12 stories is drawn from personal experience. Her account, she writes, is “a string of letters written with the heart’s sharp nib” – a tender observation of human nature and the cost of women’s sacrifice.
‘Heart Lamp’ is published by And Other Stories

Yusuke Monden started menswear label Sans Limite in 2012 after cutting his teeth in shirt design and production at Comme des Garçons. The brand’s Tokyo flagship is on a busy shopping street by the railway tracks that, in the aftermath of the Second World War, was home to a black market for US goods. It’s a world away from the neighbourhoods usually favoured by fashion brands.

Monden’s concept is simple: wardrobe classics made well. Starting with a tight edit of six shirts, he has since expanded to ready-to-wear collections and accessories. “We don’t try to sell items for a specific season or drastically change fabrics for each collection,” says Monden. He is committed to “Made in Japan” quality. “We do the patterning and planning internally, and then work with domestic factories,” he says. “When it comes to one-off items, such as patchwork shirts, hand-knit sweaters or even rugs, we work on them in the studio and then send them off to the factories for completion.” 
4 Chome-6-10 Ueno, Taito City, Tokyo 110-0005

The first mayor of Amsterdam was appointed in 1383 in a process not dissimilar to that used in 2018, when Femke Halsema became the first woman to hold the position. Amsterdam’s mayor is nominated by the ministers on the recommendation of the municipal council. This makes Halsema’s role officially apolitical but she has responsibility for many political things, including taxation and the police. Some argue that this state of affairs is more suited to the 14th century but not being beholden to voters might also mean that a politician can propose radical solutions to urban ills. For the May issue, we sat down with Halsema to find out how she’s done exactly that.

As a mayor and police chief, you advocate for the legalisation of drugs. Other European mayors are less inclined to explore this topic.
The debate is ideologically charged due to the failed war on drugs. People hardly dare to talk about it rationally for fear that by doing so, they condone it. But why leave a health-risk product to criminals? Alcohol and medicine are regulated, why not other drugs? Take MDMA: it’s less harmful than alcohol yet has been banned since the late 1980s. The consequence? The Netherlands is now the world’s biggest producer, resulting in illegal labs and drug wars. We want to investigate how much tax and excise duty we are losing and what a regulated market could look like. Drug crime currently occupies 80 per cent of Amsterdam’s police capacity. This is unsustainable. It is not a moral issue but an economic and managerial problem that requires rational solutions.

Tourists are also competing for space – the city had a record 22 million visitors in 2024. What are you doing to manage overtourism?
We need to think hard about the tourist-resident ratio. The city’s liveability is under enormous pressure. In Barcelona, short-term rentals will be banned from 2028. That will be inevitable for us too. People jetting in on €25 flights to binge drink and get high, with no thought for the town, adds nothing to our economy. That needs to change. In Amsterdam, tourism accounts for about 10 per cent of employment. That’s not so bad but not crucial. Business services, technology, health and sciences mean much more to the city. Less tourism does not necessarily harm the economy. Everyone remains welcome but mass tourism without local connection has to decline. 

As Amsterdam celebrates its 750th birthday this year, how well is the city really doing? 
Amsterdam keeps changing – it’s greener, fairer and more in tune with its residents. But one thing remains constant: it’s a city with a big heart and a rebellious streak. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

For more insights into the world of politics and urbanism, subscribe to Monocle today. Have a super Saturday.

I lost my virginity this week. Boy, was it fun – especially as I was surrounded by so many Monocle supporters, colleagues and incredibly talented business leaders. I’m not sure why it took me so many years to get to this point but, dear reader, I am no longer a Jakarta virgin.

The Chiefs is Monocle’s conference series that focuses on leadership by interviewing people who run successful enterprises and have had to navigate life’s hurdles, and whose stories have the potential to inspire. After editions in St Moritz, Dallas and Hong Kong, this week we headed to the Indonesian capital, where I had never stepped foot in before.

I was not alone. When we do a conference in, say, Paris or Berlin, the people in attendance have usually visited the city many times before – but that was not the case in Jakarta. Some guests had been to Bali but even those living in the region (in Saigon or Manila, for example) had often never put this place on their travel itineraries.

Why? For years Jakarta has been regarded as a place that you might visit for business but never for fun. The only thing that it has an international reputation for is traffic-snarled streets. So how about I tell you 10 things that might tempt you to lose your Jakarta virginity (unless I am too late on that front) and, just as importantly, entice you to attend our next big gathering in September: The Monocle Quality of Life Conference in Barcelona.

1
The traffic is frustrating but if you follow the example of the locals and sign up for an app such as Gojek, you will be nipping around town on the back of a Honda motor scooter in seconds.

2
The coffee scene is impeccable. Local and international players go big on retail design, service and space. Kurasu Kissaten is here from Japan and so are % Arabica and Oslo’s Fuglen. I was grateful as I needed all of that caffeine to carpet-bomb my jet lag into oblivion.

3
And the bars. We had cocktails at Modernhaus, where the mid-century furniture, great lighting and cool crowd were as seductive as the drinks. 

4
There are also lots of talented people shaking up the world of retail here. One of our speakers was Cynthia Wijono, co-founder of Brightspot Market, a pop-up event that runs over two weekends in summer. Hundreds of brands compete for pitches. And you can see why: more than 100,000 people now turn up. This is a huge, young market.
 
5
It’s a service culture writ large. Cable ties were added to my laptop and phone-charger leads when the hotel staff cleaned my room. I asked one of the young bellboys for directions and, as it was nearby, he walked me there.

6
Monocle readers are great. Really. People flew in from around the world to attend and they were all engaged and fun – especially the crew who ended up dancing until 03.00. 

7
The speakers weren’t bad either. Creative director Mark Landini, for example, delivered a masterclass on branding that was comic genius. He and Nic Monisse, our also amusing design editor, seemed close to forming a double act after their session onstage.

8
The new 25hours Hotel The Oddbird was the key conference venue. It’s good. So too is The Langham.

9
We’re lucky to have people from across the globe working at Monocle. Jess, our senior designer, is from Bali. Having her in Jakarta was helpful on the language front but on the final day her mum also took us out for lunch and had us eating delicious food in no time… though I was happy to pass on the cow cartilage. 

10
I’ll be back. Well, once you’ve finally done it, you want to go again.

Watch: ‘Carême’, Apple TV+
Marie-Antoine Carême was history’s first celebrity chef. He baked Napoleon’s wedding cake and orchestrated feasts for the Russian tsar and the British prince regent in Brighton. This luscious series directed by Martin Bourboulon explores the life of this impoverished-orphan-turned-culinary genius and unexpected imperial spy.
Released on 30 April. For our interview with director Martin Bourboulon, pick up a copy of the latest issue of Monocle.

Listen: ‘Journey Through Life’ by Femi Kuti
Femi Kuti continues to release the kind of kinetic and jubilant protest music with which his father, Nigerian legend Fela, made his name. But on his latest album, Kuti is looking inward. During this up-tempo escapade through his 62 years of innocence and experience, the veteran saxophonist deals out life lessons amid his trademark Afrobeat. 
‘Journey Through Life’ was released yesterday
 
Read: ‘Small Boat’ by Vincent Delecroix, translated by Helen Stevenson
Small Boat examines the real-life sinking of a dinghy carrying migrants across the English Channel in 2021, which led to the loss of 27 lives. The book imagines the subsequent questioning of a radio operator who fielded calls from the vessel at the Cap Gris-Nez marine rescue centre and ultimately decided not to send help. It is a work of striking empathy. 
‘Small Boat’ is out now

Many of the world’s most famous diamonds come from one region of India (writes Andrew Mueller). The mines of Golconda in Andhra Pradesh have coughed up treasures such as the Koh-i-Noor, the Hope Diamond, the Dresden Green and the Regent Diamond. On 14 May at the Four Seasons Hotel des Bergues Geneva, Christie’s will auction the biggest Golconda diamond ever put on the block: the 23.24-carat Golconda Blue.

When you buy a jewel of this rarefied stature, you are also buying its story. The Golconda Blue once belonged to Yashwant Rao Holkar II, who lived it up exuberantly as the maharaja of Indore from 1926 until Indian independence in 1948, when he and others of his self-indulgent ilk had their wings clipped. It later came into the possession of US jeweller Harry Winston, who once owned the Hope Diamond, before disappearing from view for decades. Christie’s expects the gemstone to fetch as much as $50m (€44m), though prospective buyers should also consider the cost of security arrangements more solid than their sock drawer.

The Arabic word bawab can be translated as “doorman” but a more accurate way of describing one would be “gatekeeper” (writes Mary Fitzgerald). In Cairo, you’ll find him (they’re typically older men) sitting in front of a residential building, performing his role as part security guard, part porter and all-round fixer. But he’s also often a little feared in his capacity as a self-appointed moral guardian who monitors the comings and goings of residents in this city of more than 20 million inhabitants.

When I lived in the leafy Zamalek neighbourhood of Cairo, my gatekeeper was an elderly man from Upper Egypt, always dressed in a pristine flowing gallabiya, who neglected to cling to the conservative mores of his rural background. But I heard countless stories of snooping doormen who openly disapproved of how residents led their lives – divulging secrets of steamy affairs, marital arguments or both to their favoured residents (they’re a ripe source of some great stories). In some cases, interfering bawabs can be persuaded to tell all with a quiet word – or, worse, a wad of cash – so many people live in fear of their nosey ways. Unsurprisingly, the figure is a quintessential comedy character in Egyptian novels and films. Posts and clips skewering the bawab as a busybody appear regularly on the country’s social media. 

On a recent trip to Cairo, I was struck by the ways in which this sprawling metropolis is changing. Many who lived in these central, communal neighbourhoods, such as Zamalek, have moved to newly built villas on the city’s outskirts. But the locals I spoke to say that the bawabs are going nowhere. New, gated developments need bawabs too and this time my guard, porter and fixer was in his early thirties – far younger than usual. Perhaps this generation will prove more accepting and less gossipy. Or is he just talking about me online instead?

Junyin Gibson is the brand and creative manager of UK outfitters Drake’s (writes Jack Simpson). Gibson moved to the country from Hong Kong when he was 17 and his style is inflected with British and Asian influences: think waxed coats over pankou buttoned shirts. We met him at Leo’s in London to learn about his silver-screen sartorial heroes, styling on the move and the benefits of adopting a consistent mode of dress.

Who influences what you wear?
Michael Hill, the creative director of Drake’s. The consistency of his styling is what inspired me to adopt more of a uniform and focus on timeless styles rather than reacting to what others wear. When we travel together, he makes sure that we put time aside for exploring. Some of my best finds have come from scouring Koenji’s vintage markets in Tokyo. Elsewhere, films such as In the Mood for Love and actors, including Tony Leung and Toshiro Mifune, have all had an effect on my style.

You’re always on the move. How do you dress while travelling?
You have to be logical and prioritise utility. That’s what some of the best designs do. In that regard, a utility vest is perfect for the airport: it’s light, everything you need is on hand and you can layer it over anything. Crucially, you must make space in your suitcase for new pieces, whether vintage staples or basics. I always pick up Lee Kung Man’s Henley T-shirts when I’m in Hong Kong. Bruce Lee made them famous and you can find them in school uniform shops there. 

Should we all adopt a uniform of sorts?
It makes mornings easier. The majority of my wardrobe works together because I collect timeless styles and complementary silhouettes. When you have a good base of neutrals, you can throw in pops of colour and pattern. I tend to opt for a bright jumper wrapped around my neck.

To read the full interview with Gibson, pick up a copy of Monocle’s May issue, which is on newsstands now.

New Delhi has come to New York (writes Rory Jones). This week clothing label Kartik Research has opened its first bricks-and-mortar shop outside of the Indian subcontinent in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. The brand – helmed by Kartik Kumra, who started the label as a side project in 2021 – hosts a wardrobe that is composed of handmade, hand-dyed threads that have been woven by artisans in a strictly Indian supply chain. “The move gives us a permanent presence in our biggest market,” says Kumra. “I’ve been doing pop-ups on this block for years and we’ve built a small cult following.” 

The spring/summer 2025 collection is reflective and dreamlike, inspired by great Indian characters from maharajas to cricket captains. Outside of the brand’s existing shop in New Delhi and its various pop-ups, its clothing enjoys seasonal runs in high-fashion stockists across the globe, including Tokyo’s Dover Street Market and Melbourne’s Up There. The new permanent outpost is a marker of success for a brand that consistently gets the basics right.