The Mandrake Hotel & The Tragedy Queen: Saraanyaaaa When Couture Becomes Cinema

London Fashion Week has always thrived on reinvention, yet few venues capture its restless spirit like The Mandrake Hotel. It is a place that feels less like a hotel and more like a living, breathing entity—its very walls seem to exhale creativity. Over the years, it has become a kind of sanctuary for artistic minds, a nesting ground for those who refuse to play by the rules of convention. Every time I step inside, I am reminded that this is not merely a space; it is an incubator of possibility, a theatre of dreams and daring.

This September, during the turbulence and brilliance that is Fashion Week, the Mandrake once again became a stage for a story unlike any other. Designer Saraanyaaaa unveiled her SS26 collection, The Tragedy Queen—a hauntingly beautiful exploration of memory, sorrow, and transformation. More than a show, it was a cinematic elegy to womanhood itself, told in silk, embroidery, and sculptural silhouettes that clung to the body like whispers of forgotten films.

A Personal Resonance

For me, this evening was not only about celebrating Saraanyaaaa’s artistry, but also about witnessing the journeys of people I hold dearest. My beloved friend, Audronė Gedrimaitė—luxury digital creator, a woman of boundless vision who has carved her world in fashion, travel, beauty, and lifestyle—stepped onto the runway for her debut. And what a debut it was.

Audronė has always been a force of elegance; years ago, she was a professional ballroom champion, commanding entire rooms with her precision, her fire, her rhythm. That night at The Mandrake, her movement betrayed those years of discipline. Even cloaked in couture, she danced, if not with her feet, then with the subtlety of her presence. Every glance was sharp, every stride deliberate, her body a symphony of memory and poise. Watching her walk, radiant as a goddess in an extraordinary gown, I felt not just pride but awe. She was not only modelling a piece of art—she was embodying it.

Another dear friend, Holly Scarfone, graced the catwalk with her unmistakable allure. Holly is a woman who has been many things—an international model, a reality television figure, a muse to photographers and designers alike. Her career has carried her across continents and into the glare of both fashion and entertainment industries. Yet on this runway, she distilled all of that into something transcendent. She has a rare gift: she does not simply wear a garment, she transforms it into a character, a story. That evening she was the Tragedy Queen herself—fragile yet unbreakable, a living paradox. She carried the quiet melancholy and strength the collection demanded, with the ease of someone who has long known how to turn a gaze into fire.

The Collection: A Cinematic Elegy

Saraanyaaaa’s The Tragedy Queen was not merely a series of garments; it was an emotional journey stitched into couture. Drawing inspiration from the icons of South Asian cinema’s golden age—Meena Kumari, Rekha, and the archetype of the eternal Tragedy Queen—the collection interrogated the dualities women have so often been forced to inhabit: muse and mourner, seductress and sacrifice.

Each look was drenched in symbolism. Whispered ivories spoke of innocence, moonlit silvers evoked nostalgia, while cinematic blacks and blood oranges captured heartbreak, passion, and rebirth. Corseted bodices lay beneath sheer saris, fragile yet unyielding. Hand-embroidered zardozi, shimmering mirror work, cascades of pearls, and dramatic draping offered texture to emotions too complex for words. The garments did not simply adorn the body; they transformed the women into living tableaux, fragments of cinema brought into three-dimensional life.

What struck me most was the dual nature of the designs—how they simultaneously romanticised and resisted the roles of the Tragedy Queen. They honoured the women immortalised on screen while reimagining them as agents of power, resilience, and metamorphosis. This was not nostalgia for the past; it was a rewriting of it.

A Theatre, Not a Show

The Mandrake itself seemed to bend around the performance. Its eccentric interiors, its labyrinth of mystique, became the perfect backdrop for Saraanyaaaa’s cinematic vision. There was no separation between fashion and theatre that evening—they collided, producing something altogether more powerful. The audience was not simply watching a catwalk; they were part of a séance of memory, witnessing the ghosts of cinema collide with the boldness of contemporary couture.

Three Decades of Fashion, One Night of Truth

Having spent three decades immersed in Fashion Week—witnessing the tectonic shifts of aesthetics, the rise and fall of trends, the relentless churn of the industry—I can say that moments like these are rare. They remind me of why I still fall in love with fashion, season after season. It is not merely about garments, nor even about spectacle. It is about fashion’s power to hold history in its threads, to summon ghosts, to celebrate goddesses, to turn sorrow into splendour.

That night at The Mandrake, with Saraanyaaaa’s artistry unfolding before us, with Audronė shimmering like a vision and Holly embodying a cinematic archetype, I felt the magic again. The kind of magic that can only be found when couture, culture, and the courage of women converge.

The Tragedy Queen was not just a collection. It was a reclamation. It was poetry stitched into fabric, theatre sewn into seams. It was a reminder that the greatest fashion is not only worn—it is lived, embodied, remembered.

And for me, it was unforgettable.

CREDITS:

Designer: @saraanyaaaa

Hair: @leahsmithhair_ @lottiekiddhair

Make-up: @makeupbyjosephrobertson @makeuupbyjack @larasousaartist

@graciejaicosmakeup @jordanakeen @makeupbygeorgette

Set design @setdesignbykate