Hanabandan

Hana bandan is the henna night — the evening before the wedding, when the bride's hands are painted and the two families sit down together. It is a sweet table more than a dinner table, and it is meant to be looked at.

The table was built as one long line rather than a set of separate displays. Ivory tulle over the cloth, and burgundy chiffon caught at intervals along the edge so it falls in deep folds to the floor; the drape is what gives the table its shape from across the room. A footed bowl of burgundy and blush roses sits at the centre, with a second, lower arrangement at each end, so the eye travels the whole length instead of stopping in the middle. Where the chiffon reaches the floor it is left to pool, and a cluster of pillar candles stands on the fabric itself.

The food is the colour. Fresh fruit stacked high — pomegranate, grape, mango, dragon fruit — Persian pastries and layered sweets on crystal and cut glass, and rows of pillar candles between them. Pearl strands and small mirrors sit low on the cloth where they catch the candlelight, and the henna itself stands on a mirrored tray in a coupe glass, mixed and ready. Nothing on the table is there only to fill space.

The staircase was the one piece not on a table. A rose garland runs the full curve of the balustrade and back along the lower rail, breaking over the newel post at the foot and falling onto the tread. Tealights sit on the steps. It is the first thing a guest sees on the way in, and it is deliberately the loudest thing in the house — deep red where everything else is burgundy and blush.

For the guests, a lace runner over burgundy tulle down the length of the dining table, single roses in glass bud vases at intervals, and a pillar candle between each one. Lit before anyone sat down, and left to burn.