The door to The Velvet Closet is never fully open.
Kitty Badminton prefers it that way—just enough of a glimpse to make you wonder what else is inside.

You might spot a silk dress that clearly survived a scandal in Monte Carlo.
A handbag that has witnessed more whispered confessions than the Whiski Room bar.
A pair of heels that look perfectly capable of ruining someone’s evening—in the most elegant possible way.

Kitty never reveals how she acquires these treasures.
(Was it Paris? A polo match in Palm Beach? That unmentionable detour in Marrakech?)
She simply gives that devastating half-smile and murmurs,
“Don’t ask, darling. Just wear it.”

Everything here is one-of-a-kind.
Miss it, and it’s gone—
much like Kitty herself.