I walked through that door twenty years ago.

Back then, the word on everyone’s lips was BRIC. Brazil, Russia, India, China. The four countries that were going to lead the world. The smart money was heading east and south, and I wanted to be part of it.

Russia did not appeal. China felt too tough. Brazil, if I am honest, scared me a little. But India? India made sense. Not because of my Indian cultural heritage, but because I had been there so many times on business. I knew the energy. I felt the potential. I wanted in.

At the time, I was a Buying Director for Philip Green. Top of my game. The youngest director in the room. By any measure, I had made it.

But when you are young, you are a bit stupid. Success is not enough. You crave something more. Something you cannot even name.

So I packed my bags, found a spot in swanky Juhu in Mumbai, handed a local architect called Jayesh a store design CD from a British designer, and said, “Make it look like this.” He did and Boudoir London was born.

What followed could fill a book.

It was amazing. It was crazy. It was frustrating beyond belief. Five years of learning, fighting, building, succeeding and eventually, leaving.

The energy of doing business in India

Before I get into the challenges, I have to say this: India was electric.

The opportunity for someone like me, a foreigner with global retail experience, was extraordinary. Within six months of arriving, I had my own magazine column. I became known as India’s Lingerie Doctor, writing for the Sunday supplement of the second biggest newspaper in the country. Nobody knew who I was when I landed. That did not matter. If you had something to offer, doors opened.

Retail was in huge demand. The middle classes were growing fast. Young people were going to university, getting office jobs, but still living with their families. That meant disposable income. And they wanted to spend it.

The wealthy? There were no limits. I have worked with high budgets my entire career, but even I was surprised at how much one person could spend on lingerie alone. Eye-watering sums.

Consumerism was crazy. Sometimes, if we ran a big story in my column or got featured somewhere prominent, there would be a queue outside the shop the next morning. For a lingerie store. That was unheard of.

Weddings were on another level. People would happily wipe out their parents’ bank accounts for a wedding. It was joyful, extravagant, and completely unapologetic.

People worked hard, but they played hard too. Socialising was a big part of life. There was an optimism in the air, a sense that anything was possible.

That was the India I fell in love with.

Building a retail brand in Mumbai

I situated the store in Juhu, home of all the A-list celebrities. And my God, did we have A-list celebrities walk through the door. I have been up close and personal with more A-lister boobs than I can count.

But here is the thing: before us, buying a bra in India meant walking into a mom and pop store, telling the male shopkeeper you needed a bra, and watching him take a shifty little look at your chest to guess your size. Then he would hand you something stretchy, vaguely resembling a bra in a brown paper bag. And you would just have to hope for the best.

We changed that.

We created a private space. A beautiful changing room. Trained bra fitters. A proper measuring service. We showed India that you might be an A cup, but you might also be an F or a G. Letters that no one had ever associated with bras before.

Whether you were a Bollywood star or someone who had saved up six months of pocket money to finally get a bra that actually fit, you wanted the same thing: the experience. Nobody ever bought a bra from us without trying it on.

The challenges of hiring in India

Finding staff was harder than I expected.

India has a huge, young population. On paper, that sounds like a dream for hiring. In reality, it was one of my biggest challenges.

At the time, young people were finding their way into universities in record numbers. The prize for a qualification was an office job. Air conditioning. A desk. Status.

Retail? That was not the dream unless you were a big brand, a luxury name, or based in a prestigious mall. But when you were running a small brand that nobody had heard of, it was a different story.

Loyalty was low. Attrition was off the scale.

My guidance about CVs that kept evolving every few months for minor pay rises, and how it was ultimately going to hurt them, fell on deaf ears. Everyone saw it as a badge of honour. They were in demand. That was what mattered.

It was a completely different mindset to what I was used to. And it taught me a lot about not assuming what motivates people in one market will translate to another.

Navigating corruption and poverty in India

There were other challenges I had not expected. Corruption was always there. It was not hidden. At every turn, someone would appear with the same message: I can make your life easier if you pay. Or I can make it more difficult if you do not.

Poverty was a reality even in the most premium suburbs like Juhu, where I lived. Accepting that for some, clean water and decent sanitation remained out of reach was something I could never get used to.

That was twenty years ago. I hope things have changed. But it was part of the reality I had to navigate.

Understanding cultural sensitivities in India

I was lucky. My business was based in Mumbai, which is cosmopolitan, progressive, and cool. But I was running a lingerie brand, and that came with its own considerations.

I was always mindful of visuals in the window. Graphics. Imagery. I knew that if I caught the attention of the wrong groups, or ended up on the wrong eyeline, it could create problems. So I was careful. Not fearful, but aware.

Different parts of India have different sensitivities. What works in one city might not work in another. You have to know where you are operating.

Managing religious holidays in India

India has a lot of holidays. A lot. Hindu holidays. Muslim holidays. Sikh holidays. Regional holidays. It felt like every week there was something.

I remember one member of my team who had taken every single holiday available. Eventually I had to ask her, “What religion are you actually?” Turns out she leaned into all of them depending on which holiday was available.

Why you need local partners in India

If I could give one piece of advice to anyone thinking about India, it would be this: get people on the ground who can guide you.

I was lucky. I had a wonderful accountant who became so much more than that. He was my financial manager, my business mentor, and my friend. When I got bitten by a mosquito and thought I was going to die of Dengue, he was the one who took me to hospital. To this day, we are still great friends.

Having someone like that made all the difference. Someone who understood the system, who could help me navigate the things I did not see coming. Going there alone is difficult. Having even one or two trusted people in your corner changes everything.

The importance of expat networks in India

One thing I was slow to do was get into community. And I regret that.

It can take a while for locals to let you in, depending on how you enter the market and what industry you are in. But there are plenty of expat groups in India, and they are a ready-made support network. People who have already been through what you are about to face. People who are happy to welcome you in and help you navigate the challenges.

If I had leaned into that earlier, I think some of those early Dalbir-no-mates months would have been a lot easier.

Advice for entering the Indian market

For anyone getting excited about the free trade agreement, I would say this: the opportunity is real. The energy is real. The potential is enormous.

But so are the challenges that do not make it into the trade briefings.

Go in with your eyes open. Understand what you are walking into. Do your research. Spend time there. Build relationships before you need them. And do not assume anything.

More lessons from doing business in India

This is not the full story. Not even close. There is so much more to tell about those five years, the lessons, the wins, the moments that nearly broke me.

But for now, this is the point: I have already worn the India t-shirt. And I think my experience might be useful for those just trying it on.