The Wedding Day
Mandap architecture, ceremony choreography, pheras lit by 4,000 hand-folded diyas. We design the room your families will marry into.
A Jaipur design studio shaping once-in-a-lifetime Indian weddings — from the first mandap sketch to the final petal.
A note from the founders.
TAD is a small, obsessive design studio in the pink city. We design Indian weddings the way couturiers design lehengas — thread by thread, intention by intention. Every mandap, every menu card, every marigold strand is composed for one family, once.
We work with twelve weddings a year. Not thirteen. Because the difference between a beautiful evening and a moment your mother will cry about in 2050 lives entirely in the details.
Mandap architecture, ceremony choreography, pheras lit by 4,000 hand-folded diyas. We design the room your families will marry into.
Set design, live productions, choreographed entries. We treat sangeet like an open-air theatre — because that’s what it is.
Marigold-soaked mornings, ivory linen, brass urlis. Intimate days designed so phones come down and faces come up.
Udaipur lake palaces, Rajasthani forts, Goan shorelines, Tuscan vineyards. We handle the logistics — you handle the joy.
Brand launches, milestone birthdays, anniversaries. The TAD eye, applied to events that aren’t weddings — but feel just as considered.
Twelve weddings a year. Each, a world. Here is a glance through ours.
A long, unhurried call. We listen for the texture of your family before we ever talk about timelines.
We translate stories into palettes, palettes into rooms. A bespoke design bible, hand-bound.
Palaces, forts, vineyards. Florists who can do colour the way painters do. We hand-pick every contact.
Sketches become CAD. CAD becomes a hammer. We oversee the build, drape, light and dry-run every detail.
A team of 40+ moving like a hand. You wear the lehenga. We wear the headsets.
Curated photo edits, a hand-printed memory book, and a closing dinner with the family. A real goodbye.
They didn’t just plan our wedding. They moved into our family for nine months and built us a memory we can’t stop opening.
Every detail had a reason. The marigolds were the exact orange of my mother’s old saree. Nobody told them — they noticed.
We’ve been to dozens of Indian weddings. This was the first one that felt designed instead of just decorated.
The sangeet was a concert. The pheras were a cathedral. The vidaai was a film. Three rooms, three feelings, one team.
I have called them my wedding planners for two years. I now call them friends.