“CHEC KIN” says the sign on the marble wall by the reception.
It’s not a typo. This oddly split verb phrase is in fact a play on the name of Mumbai’s newest boutique hotel, The Kin. It’s one of many little pieces of whimsy that give this building its big personality.
Mere metres from Shivaji Park’s shoreline, The Kin is brand new, utterly gorgeous, thoughtfully designed, and still full of light-hearted playfulness that makes you stop, notice, and chuckle. For instance, the ground floor sottoscala has a winged, tasseled armchair, alongside a round table that looks like it’s melting, dripping metal. Behind the chair is a vinyl record player attached to headphones. It’s an under-stairway listening room for one, its stepped roof padded and upholstered in a swirling monochrome landscape that protects passing heads from potential bumps.
Even climbing up and down the kota staircase is an exercise in gawking. There is art everywhere—provocative photographs on one side, meditative abstract canvases on the other, prints from Paper Collective in Copenhagen, and a glass balustrade that catches the angled golden light coming in through the landing windows. Walk down one of the corridors leading to the rooms and on a cabinet lies a puffy, shiny, grinning metal Michelin Man statue, his elbows akimbo, weighing down a book titled Sneaker of the Year. The tyre-company’s mascot in the hallway is a nod to the hotel’s co-founder Imrun Sethi’s time as an apprentice at Marco Pierre White’s Michelin-starred restaurant, The Criterion in Piccadilly.
The Kin, as the name suggests, comprises founders—Sethi and his sister, Guneet Singh—who are siblings. Mumbai, Pune and most-recently Goa know Sethi as the founder of Terttulia—in fact, the Mumbai outpost of the restaurant, which opened a little over a decade ago, occupies much of the ground floor of The Kin’s building. Singh is a product designer who loves antiquing and design hunting. She picked up figurines like the Michelin mascot and phrenology heads made of ceramic, which can be seen on a shelf flanking their old-school elevator shaft, from a little shop on London’s Portobello Road. “I like to dig deep into the interiors of a space,” she says. At The Kin, she’s provided enough rabbit holes for guests to follow, from pages of books rolled up and kept in glass jars, to illustrations on their do-not-disturb door hangers. Every tchotchke at The Kin has a backstory connected to the siblings, their many journeys and adventures thus far.