When Jacques Cartier moved his family across the Atlantic to England in the 1920s, he found himself, for a jeweller, in the right place at the right time. "All of society seemed to be en fête," the Duke of Windsor would recall of the postwar years, as "most of the great houses in London opened their doors for a flourish of hospitality such as will never be seen again." There were extravagant dinners, "served on gold or silver plates by footmen in the family livery with knee breeches, white stockings, buckled shoes, and powdered hair," and dancing under the light of thousands of candles.
It wasn't unusual to receive four invitations a night and quite acceptable to move from one to the next. And when the private parties had finished, there were the West End nightclubs, "an almost continuous ball from midnight until dawn." Jewels of course were de rigueur, and nowhere more so than in the presence of royalty.
Unlike their French neighbours (who no longer had a monarchy), British high society revolved around the Crown, and the high point of a young lady's life was her presentation at court in front of the King and Queen — the moment that formally launched her into society.
Strict rules around the dress code for this event had been in place for decades: everything from the gloves to the length of one's train to the number of feathers in one's hair was prescribed, and the gems were traditionally white and simple for the young ladies (it was their mothers who could go all out in big stones).
Jacques Cartier, who had visited the Persian Gulf in search of the finest natural pearls in the world, was well placed to offer his expertise, and "Pearls for your Debutante Daughter" became one of the early catchy taglines of Cartier London. Pictured here is the effortlessly chic future Duchess of Argyll — named the debutante of the year in 1930 — in a look that still holds up today.
