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Indian jewellery has always carried weight — cultural, emotional, financial. What’s changed, according to Max Fawcett, Christie’s newly appointed Global Head of Jewellery, is how Indian collectors are choosing what deserves that weight.
Having led some of the world’s most important jewellery sales across Geneva, London, Hong Kong, and New York, Fawcett has a rare vantage point. And from where he stands, the Indian collector today is sharper, more discerning, and far more invested in the story behind the stone than ever before.
“The love of jewellery in India has always been there,” he says. “From modest pieces to the most historic diamonds that came out of Indian mines centuries ago. But over the last five years, there’s been a much more nuanced approach.”
Here’s what that looks like now.
For decades, Indian jewellery — particularly in the modern era — was defined by scale. People liked to flash big stones, big sets. And though they were certainly eye-catching, they were not always the finest quality.
“That’s changing now,” Fawcett explains. “Collectors are now far more focussed on rarity and quality — no-oil emeralds, unheated rubies and sapphires, better colour diamonds. These don’t come in enormous sizes. They’re rare, often once-in-a-lifetime stones.”
With wealth generation accelerating and access to information growing, Indian buyers are asking better questions — and expecting better answers. Provenance, treatment, origin, history: These are no longer niche concerns. They’re central.
“And that’s why we’re seeing more Indian clients come to auction,” he says. “Because the rarest things often surface publicly.”
Despite jewellery’s growing reputation as an alternative asset, Fawcett remains firm on one principle: Jewellery is meant to be worn.
“I always say this — jewellery is to be worn,” he asserts. “Yes, it’s a store of value. Gold has been one for 500 years. But it’s such a shame when extraordinary jewels sit locked away.”
Indian collectors, he points out, are uniquely placed to embrace this philosophy. Unlike much of the world, India still has cultural moments — weddings, celebrations, rituals — where jewellery belongs on the body, not in a vault. Investment, he believes, follows naturally. With long-term faith in currencies wavering, jewellery — like gold — offers a tangible place to park value. But beauty comes first.
If there’s one unifying thread across today’s serious collectors, it’s provenance. “Anything with a strong history matters,” says Fawcett. “Mughal jewellery, royal collections, pieces linked to prominent Indian famillies.”
Jewellery, unlike art, comes with complications. Over centuries, many great jewels were dismantled — tiaras turned into earrings, stones reset, designs altered. “That’s a disaster for collectors today,” he says. “We want pieces in their original form, as they existed a hundred years ago.”
When weights match old records, when sales histories are documented, when a jewel’s journey can be traced — that’s when it becomes exceptional.
“For me, natural pearls are the rarest of all.”
Unlike faceted stones, pearls cannot be recut or corrected. Their shape, colour, and lustre are acts of nature. To find two natural pearls that are exactly the same is difficult, if not impossible. “I once went pearl diving — we opened a thousand oysters and found one pearl the size of a grain of sand,” he recalls. “To find two large pearls that match for earrings is a miracle.”
Indian collectors have always understood this — from Baroda pearls to the Maharajas’ legendary strands. Demand remains intense, supply virtually non-existent.
Emeralds, rubies, and sapphires — particularly Kashmir sapphires — continue to dominate. But newer players are surging. “Spinels and Paraíba Tourmalines have exploded,” says Fawcett. “Prices are at record highs because supply is incredibly limited.”
Christie’s recently set a new benchmark, selling a Paraíba at over $300,000 per carat in New York. Meanwhile, white diamonds, especially modern, manufactured ones, have softened.
“They’re commodities,” he explains. “When supply exceeds demand, prices fall.” Many long-standing diamond dealers, Fawcett notes, are now fully focussed on coloured stones — because rarity can’t be manufactured.
No conversation about Indian jewellery is complete without Golconda diamonds. But Fawcett is cautious. “The challenge lies in proving they’re Golconda,” he says. “There’s no DNA test.”
True Golconda stones — those traceable to Mughal emperors or royal treasuries — sit at the pinnacle of collecting. Not repolished, historically documented, and unchanged. “When the real ones come up, that’s the highest level of rarity,” he says. “They don’t appear often. That’s why they matter.”
In an age of information overload, authenticity has become currency.
“Single-owner sales, long-held family collections, original commissions — clients love that,” Fawcett says. “The story matters.” Indian collectors, in particular, respond deeply to narrative — where a stone came from, who wore it, how it survived.
“I’ve spent the last few days with some very important Indian famillies,” he adds. “They all say the same thing: If you find a great Mughal piece with real history, show it to us.” Because in the end, the rarest jewels aren’t just about carats; they’re about continuity.
And the best ones, as Fawcett reminds us, still have stories left to tell.