‘The only true aristocracy of Phuket’ ‒ the Baba ladies ‒ were having their very posh and private annual shindig.
Of Fujian Chinese origin, these grande dames are the descendants of the tin mining barons, many still living in the villas you see among the prettiest of the old Phuket Town streets, hidden by high walls, high trees and the scent of frangipani, the surviving line of those old moguls and of serious old money.
It was the visual splendour of the Baba ladies that was on display. Gathered annually by Ajarn Pranee, each year threatening to be the last, they show off their finery and applaud each other’s sparkly outfits, the basic one a batik sarong topped with a ‘yaya’ blouse. But there’s nothing basic about ’em, vividly coloured and embroidered at great expense.
Now in their 70s, they know that the next generation may well prefer ripped jeans. But these ladies will be damned if their fine Baba Culture is going without a fight. And a party.
‒ Alan Platt