The lot. Chim pang (tea ceremony), tok panjang banquet, lap chai exchange, and the bersanding your grandmother has been waiting thirty years to see.
Solemn in the morning, a celebration by sundown. We run akad nikah, the bersanding dais, and a kenduri that doesn't run out of rendang at 9pm.
Under 30 guests. One beautiful afternoon, no three-day pageant. Usually: a solemnisation at our Joo Chiat shophouse, lunch down the road.
One ritual, done right. For couples who've got the rest handled, or families hosting a single ceremony on another weekend.
Sourced from Kak Rohani's network of third-generation tailors. New-made or restored from your mother's trousseau. Quoted per piece.
Ex-events manager at Raffles Hotel. Married into a Peranakan family in 2015 and, in her own words, never quite recovered. Runs the studio and still personally runs every first consultation.
Twelve years in luxury weddings before joining us. Speaks Hokkien, Malay, and fluent ang-moh-on-the-phone. Handles every wedding from the invitation suite down to the kenduri closing time.
Third-generation kebaya tailor, Joo Chiat born and raised. Her grandmother sewed for Bibiks on Koon Seng Road in the 60s. If you have a kebaya that was your mother’s, she’s the one who can save it.
We’re a Tamil-Chinese couple and I was dreading the conversation with my mother-in-law about the tea ceremony. Anissa sat with both our mums, in two different languages, for four hours, and by the end they were co-writing the run-of-show. I don’t know how she did it.
My grandmother wore her mother's kebaya at our bersanding. Kak Rohani restored it over six weeks — the original kerawang, all intact. My grandmother cried. I cried. My husband cried. Three generations of women in one piece of sulam.
Kebaya sulam from Bukittinggi. Songket from Terengganu. Baju panjang tailored one street over. Or: your mother’s piece, restored by Kak Rohani over six or eight weeks. Quoted per garment, after a fitting.