Margaret & Tenri

The indicated price is a minimum price of the item produced according to standard measurements (more details).

The price of an individual tailoring according dress to personal measurements starts from 2 000 000 rubles, dress and cape from 2 430 000 rubles, dress, cape and sleeves from 2 550 000 rubles.

The hat from the Bridal Couture collection is not included in the base price and is available for separate order.

The architecture of tenderness, where every strand of embroidery is stitched by hand—not onto fabric, but along the very border between reality and memory. Patterns, woven in the style of palace bas-reliefs, resemble imprints of ancient frescoes—not heavy, but emerging through the veil of time, like the outlines of clouds at sunset. They do not adorn the bodice; they dissolve it into history, transforming the bride into a living capital, crowned with ivory—not a color, but a state of light.

The sleeves—a silent dialogue between bare skin and adornment. The same heavy silk as the cape, yet here it speaks differently: softer, more intimate. They flare at the wrists like petals on the verge of unfurling, suspended in a moment of perfect tension. They can be removed—leaving the shoulders a blank page awaiting a confession. Or left on—turning every gesture into a ritual, each motion casting silken shadows, like the wings of a moth skimming the air.

The skirt unfolds like a silk manuscript—opulent yet weightless, as if woven not from thread but from the notes of a minuet. Its volume does not weigh down but floats, preserving the memory of movement: here, it pauses in anticipation; there, it shivers like water stirred by a breath of wind. This is not mere fabric—it is a promise made tangible, where every pleat falls with the precision of a magnolia petal released in spring.

The cape—a second skin. Heavy silk flows behind the shoulders like the shadow of a wing. Its train exists in a parallel reality, slowing time around itself. When the bride moves, it becomes liquid mirror, reflecting not light but the moment itself: here, she hesitates on the threshold; there, she takes a step, and the air sparkles with a thousand tiny glimmers, as if the silk holds not crystals but particles of dawn, captured in flight.

Margaret—a dress of metamorphosis. The corset captures the breath before “I do,” the skirt sways to the rhythm of a heartbeat, the sleeves whisper of what can be shed like a mask—or kept like a vow. And the cape’s train stretches like the last organ note, dissolving into space but never vanishing. Here, everything is about the in-between: between fabric and skin, between gesture and fulfillment, between “I” and “we.” The dress is a moment suspended—when fate is not yet bound to fact but has already ceased to be a dream.