Rochelle Pinto

3 weeks ago | vogue.in | Rochelle Pinto

What would you imagine a designer who has access to some of the most luscious jewels in the world—rubellites the size of strawberries, emeralds that almost glow in the dark, sapphires in every colour of the rainbow—considers the most precious item made for her by a fine jewellery house? Well, if you ask Bvlgari’s Mary Katrantzou, she will wax eloquent, eyes widening as she describes…a measuring tape.

Mar 5, 2025 | vogue.in | Rochelle Pinto

To kick off my annual rereading of Yuval Noah Harari’s Sapiens, I flip to a random page and come face-to-face with Louis XIV and Barack Obama. The Sun King, with his towering bouffant, velvet cape bedecked with gold fleur-de-lis and high-heeled court shoes, looks like a tasty French pastry—a stark contrast to Obama’s...well, navy blue suit.

Jan 4, 2025 | architecturaldigest.in | Rochelle Pinto

If you want to step into the mind of Cristóbal Balenciaga, the game-changing Spanish couturier who died over 50 years ago, all you have to do is beg, bribe, or charm your way into 10 Avenue George V in Paris. Cross the threshold of the temperature-controlled fashion temple, manned by gloved assistants in white coats, and you whiz back in time—with over 6,000 pieces from the brand’s archives on display, and more being added every season, allowing you to physically map the brand’s lineage.

Sep 16, 2024 | vogue.in | Rochelle Pinto

Rochelle Pinto: With every decade of our life, especially as working women, we learn a different lesson that exemplifies that era. You’ve been with Bvlgari for over four decades, so I’m curious to know what your learnings are. Lucia Silvestri: This is a complex question because my career has been long and quite unique. I didn’t study gemology or design. I learnt from the family. I can tell you that my most important decade has been from 2013 till July 2024—the time I’ve served as creative director.

Jul 14, 2024 | vogue.in | Rochelle Pinto

Have you ever heard the sound of 13,000 people go silent? One minute, accents from every corner of the globe are using your eardrums as tablas and the next, it’s quiet enough that you can hear the behatted man two rows down sip Pimms through a paper straw. I am not, if you’re wondering, about to announce that I was bitten by a radioactive moth. Nor has this entire congregation been hypnotised. “Feels like we’re in church,” I whisper to my companion.