Minahil Haroon

She walked in with the kind of vision we live for, specific, and completely her own. She knew she wanted a traditional colour palette (think deep rusts, burnt oranges, rich kundan zari vibes) but none of the antique, flora-fauna, Mughal motifs. No paisleys. No peacocks. No curves. What she wanted was geometry. Straight lines. Symmetry. Sharpness. A bridal that shimmered like light bouncing off glass.

we took that as our cue and out a lehenga choli with a long, sweeping trail, modern silhouette, very walima-esque drama, and built it from the ground up using double crystal cut beads and Swarovski crystals. Glossy, glimmering, contemporary in feel, but rooted in tradition where it mattered. That balance is so hard to get right, but Manahil made it easy.

She knew her mind. She wanted shine, she wanted structure, she wanted every motif to catch the light.
And if you know Lajwanti, you know we talk about customisation like it's sacred. Every bride brings her story. Our job? To honour it in a way that feels like we're writing a new page in a very old book. 

Because if Mughal garments told stories in flora and fauna, Manahil's told hers in grids, shapes, and glinting light. It's what a Mughal bridal would look like if you reimagined the entire era through perhaps, our lens.

We got to build this with her. The endless conversations, the chai-fuelled debates about beads vs stones, the laughter. And when it finally came together, photographed against the backdrop of actual Mughal history, it looks like it belongs there. As it it had always been waiting to be worn there.