Simone Tata的孟买住宅室内设计丨印度丨Ritu Nanda

Simone Tata invites us into her inimitable Mumbai home with designer Ritu Nanda

In the many years that she has known Simone Tata, designer Ritu Nanda has only addressed her as Mrs T. In this story originally published in 2019, she tells us why one of her dearest friends continues to spark awe and laughter every time they meet.

Ritu Nanda

Bikramjit Bose

One of my favourite pictures in my phone gallery is a recent one of Mrs T (Simone Tata) gazing at her birthday cake, in wry amusement. The unusual cake was specially made on the instructions of her grandchildren, and it held all the irreverence that Mrs T is known to appreciate—atop the cake, fondant had been skilfully shaped into a tiny bottle of whisky and a tube of red lipstick. I wasn’t exactly surprised to see her response when the cake was brought to the table. While most women in their late 80s would look forward to an icing of pastel roses or sweet sentiment scrawled in cursive, I have known only one lady of that vintage who would throw her head back and laugh at an offering as cheeky as that.

Nothing, though, can outshine the disarming elegance that Mrs T exudes so effortlessly. That evening, the soft glow of candlelight caught every detail that I have long admired about her visag —her silvery, coiffed bob; her signature red nails; the way strands of freshwater pearls rest on her neck; and her strong, long fingers holding a glass of her favourite whisky in one hand and a cigarette in another.

A view of the sitting room with a large painting of a shepherd and his flock—in front of the sofa is a low table with part of a collection of silver items acquired from a small shop in Bhuleshwar, Mumbai.

Being a designer, I take great pleasure in observing the little elements that go into the making of people as well as of fine objects of art. For me, Mrs T has been an endless chapter on character and style, ever since I joined her enterprise, Trent Limited, in 2001 as merchandise consultant for the home interiors division of Westside.

A desk in the corner of the sitting room with a portrait of Simone Tata’s grandmother.

This small marble statue is Mrs Tata’s favourite piece.

As the years rolled past, we formed a ritual of meeting every few weeks and catching up over a couple of drinks at her home in old Mumbai. Her house looks out at the sea, and a playful breeze is a gentle constant in the large, open balcony where, in winters, she hosts elaborate sit-down meals for friends and family. The menu for these soirées is meticulously planned by her, days in advance.

The Swiss clock in front, flanked by two Dutch vases, is surmounted by a colourful porcelain parrot. The crown moulding is a reproduction of the moulding at Bombay House. The Chinese Thangka painting had to be put under glass when it was found to be deteriorating. When Mrs Tata relocated to this residence, a majority of the Chinese artefacts at Bombay House were moved to the Tata Collection of Chinese Antiquities at the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya.

A Chinese Cantonware garden seat is used as a small coffee table; it was a wedding gift to her husband.

It’s a joy to watch her place detailed instructions to her staff on the fine art of presenting food and balancing multiple flavours, and it’s humbling to watch her do all of that oh-so gently. Similarly, even when it’s easier to delegate someone to oversee the maintenance of her home, she will take it upon herself to commission the reupholstering of a sofa or a couch. Three years ago, she wished to change the wallpaper in her entrance room; she briefed me on the precise shade she was looking for and we went through a hundred books before we finalised one that met her exacting tastes.

A turquoise Chinese vase used as a lamp.

A Chinese vase, of which the collar has been broken, used as a lamp; on either side are two little Indian teapots.

However, to me, what makes Mrs T hold such a special place in my heart is the way she approaches life—with candour, wit, generosity and open arms. Three years ago, we were travelling together for a fashion show in the suburbs, and were held up in monsoon traffic for two hours. We knew we’d reach the venue only after half of the show was over.

Mrs Tata in her bedroom, looking out at the sea.

Instead of fretting over the frustrating delay, Mrs T simply told me, “I don’t think we will make it. Let’s just go get a drink and have some good Chinese food. What do you say to that?” Even today I would say the same thing to a question like that: “Thank you, Mrs T. I love you for loving life the way you do.”