A letter for you
Hey there!
When I told people I was launching a high heels brand, two things happened: those who knew me weren't surprised, but those who didn't were simply curious.
This letter is for you, because I want you to know why, how, when, and for whom I started Ugra.
The Beginning
I've loved high heels since I was about 10 years old. I secretly slipped my feet into my mother's high heels for the first time, tried to walk in them, and ended up twisting my foot. I didn't tell anyone, but I knew that one day, when I was "adult enough," I'd wear them.
My mother's silver open-toed block heels, standing 5 inches tall, were a sight to behold. She's my biggest fashion inspiration. She'd wear those high heels with her sarees and salwars, looking incredibly beautiful. Whenever we visited someone's house, she'd leave them at the doorstep, and I'd marvel at how they stood out among the other pairs of shoes.
My father, an Air Force man, was very strict. "Keep your nails short, no makeup, no high heels" kind of strict.
So, I waited.
After graduating high school, I chose journalism because I believed it would grant me freedom—the freedom to wear whatever I wanted and go wherever I wished.
Of course, journalism wasn't my first choice. I'd wanted to be a fashion designer, but as you might understand, an Indian middle-class family would rather have their kids choose brag-worthy professions like teacher, doctor, or engineer. Unfortunately, I had the talent for none.
Yes, my decision to become a journalist was also criticized, but I made my way through it—that's a story for another time.
In 2012, I came to Bangalore to study journalism. The train from Kolkata reached Yeshwantpur station—my father dropped me off at the college and then he was off.
I graduated in 2013 and got a job at an English daily newspaper as an editor and reporter. Those days of figuring out the city, job, stay, and survival were so adventurous. However, the best part was being able to wear heels—wherever, whenever, always!
I bought a pair of heels with my first paycheck and oh boy, did I wear them a lot. This was the start of everything—I would save up, buy heels, buy cute outfits, and enjoy wearing them.
Staying in a PG, my little cupboard was like my treasure box. Every time I went out, I'd put on some music, have a drink, dance, choose my heels first, and then build my outfit around them.
Soon I was known amongst my friends and colleagues for being the one "always in heels." My friends would call me asking for suggestions on what to buy, from where, how to style them, and how to walk in them.
For me, a good pair of shoes is more important than hair, outfit, or makeup. You see, people notice your shoes, and even after you leave, your presence is still heard. When you arrive, people know you're coming—there's a kind of romance in this anticipation.
I got lucky when I met someone who understood this particular and peculiar obsession of mine. I met my partner, Nikhil, in 2013 at a startup conference. He was an entrepreneur, and I interviewed him for the newspaper. He says that he heard the sound of my heels before he even saw me.
Everyone around me would compliment my shoes, but Nikhil understood they were the key to my heart. His way of showing me how much he loved me was, obviously, by gifting me heels.
Cut to the Year 2022:
I know I've skipped about a decade, but in summary, all I did during that time was work, wear heels, offend some, impress a few, and work more.
Tired and bored, I quit my job in 2022.
I probably had a bit of an identity crisis, but I kept myself busy painting random coasters, gardening (growing coriander mostly), reading (a lot of Murakami), and collaborating with an amazing shoemaker to design some high heels.
The Birth of Ugra
Bhaskar Kashyap, an incredible craftsman from Assam, would take my dream designs and turn them into something even better. For the first time, I understood what it means to wear quality, high heels made of real leather. These just got better with time, are a piece of investment because they last that long, comfortable from day one, they let your feet breathe, and the beauty of real leather is—it molds and takes the shape of your feet. So, the shoe really fits!
Witnessing the popularity of these shoes, Nikhil told me that I should make them for everyone. This great idea was daunting, but I said "why not!"
I picked five of my favorite styles and launched Ugra. Inspired by the word 'Ugro' in Bengali, which people often called me, Ugra is my way of finally owning the title.
Luxuary takes time,
At Ugra, the making of your order takes time because these heels are not mass-produced in factories. They're lovingly handmade by artisans, sourcing the finest leather from around the world. They go through hours of manual work, paying attention to the tiniest details, then undergo rounds of quality checks before we pack and ship them to you.
So, there you have it—the story of Ugra, from a little girl secretly trying on her mother's heels to a woman creating her own brand. It's been quite a journey, hasn't it?
I hope this letter helps you understand why Ugra means so much to me. It's not just about selling shoes; it's about sharing my passion, my journey, and a little bit of that feeling I get when I slip on a perfect pair of heels.
To everyone who's supported me along the way—my family, my friends, and even those who thought I was a bit crazy for always wearing heels—thank you. You've all played a part in bringing Ugra to life.
And to those of you who are about to try on your first pair of Ugra heels, I hope you feel as fabulous wearing them as I do making them.
Here's to the sound of you coming!
With love and gratitude,
Debanti Roy