Asprey, praised for the quality of its dressing cases, jewel caskets and inkstands at the Great Exhibition of 1851 and purveyors of luxury goods ever since, rose to new heights of excellence and extravagance during the 1980s and early 1990s. Easily within living memory, it was a period of exuberant spending by some of the wealthiest.mes n on the planet, many from the Middle East with eyes for the colourfully exotic. Asprey was on hand to cater for this taste and visitors to their shop in London's Bond Street became accust.mes d to the sight of Wurlitzer Jukeboxes lavishly re-housed in silver-gilt and lapis lazuli or gigantic quartz eagles poised as if about to swoop across the main showroom.

And who better for Albert R. 'Cubby' Broccoli, producer of the James Bond films, to turn to than Asprey when he needed a replica 'Fabergé Imperial Easter Egg . . . made in 1897 in Moscow' as the focus of the latest episode in his spy/thriller series? This was Octopussy (1983) in which Roger Moore as Bond played fast and loose with this real, beautifully-crafted treasure, 'enamelled in translucent green enclosed by gold laurel-leaf trellis set with blue sapphires and four petalled gold flowers with diamonds.' The climax of the film actually takes place at Replica Shoes 's in New Bond Street when the egg is sold to the villain, Kamal Khan (Louis Jourdan) for £500,000.

Asprey had (and has) many craft.mes n with whom they worked to create such pieces, both in-house and those working independently. One of the latter, renowned for their work in gold and enamel like this present fantasy peacock egg, was the firm of McCabe McCarthy of London. Indeed, Asprey's finest goldwork with plique-à-jour from 30 years ago was carried out by this firm. McCabe McCarthy was once accused of making the 'ultimate waste of money,' an 18ct gold-plated computer mouse, which retailed for £375. Surely, that's no worse than a pair of 18ct gold shirt collar stiffeners, another Asprey perennial, for the man who has everything?