Mrinmai Arun didn’t set out to become a jewellery designer — at least not in the traditional sense. Her path was carved out of raw instinct and a deep love for sculpture and fashion. “I would like to call myself a jewellery designer/maker,” she says. “We’re an experimental brand that’s kind of bridging Indian cultural jewellery with a modern, creative twist.” Not bad for someone who only realised she hated sewing halfway through fashion school.
Based between London and Madras, Arun’s work resists easy categorisation. Her practice is an amalgamation of her sculpting background and her upbringing in a family of makers. Her mother runs a clothing label, Bougainvillea, and her grandfather designed furniture and built treehouses from scratch. “It was kind of inevitable,” she reflects. “Growing up surrounded by that sort of energy, I just always found myself making things or dressing up. I hardly ever read books, but I sure did have a stack of fashion magazines instead. ELLE, of course.”
After enrolling at the University of the Arts, London, she initially studied costume design, chasing her love for drama and scale. “Literally one week in, I knew I’d made a mistake,” she admits. “We were sewing period costumes. No metal — I knew I had to switch. I had the most amazing tutors who pushed me out of the box and helped me really go for what I wanted to do.” This instinct to push boundaries runs through her debut collection, Samsara. Born from her final university project, it features five statement pieces that combine traditional Indian influences with unconventional forms. It’s bold, sculptural and meticulously handcrafted.
“I don’t design on paper. I take the metal and start working. I sculpt straight onto the body,” she says. “It’s a process of trial and error.” One piece, the Vikāra ear cuff, stands out as a personal milestone. “I burned my hand making it. It made me cry. It was technically so challenging, but I think it helped me push boundaries,” she muses. “It fits everyone, it’s comfortable, and it carries weight. I’m really proud of that one.”
Arun’s work caught wider attention after she was approached by a stylist on Instagram who wanted a custom piece for Janhvi Kapoor, for Masaba Gupta’s bridal campaign. The catch? They needed it on super short notice. Arun was in London. The shoot was in Mumbai. “It was sleepless nights, back and forth, but I wasn’t going to say no,” she says. “I try to grab onto any opportunity that comes and just push myself through it. I think that’s helped get my pieces seen.”
Social media, she says, has been a game changer. Without a website, stockist or showroom, Instagram has become her de facto portfolio. The visuals are crisp and expertly styled — something she credits to her cousin, cinematographer Prahalad Guru. “I could never afford high-end content. But Prahalad made my work look like it belonged in the industry. Without him, it probably wouldn't have been seen.”
Rooted in Madras but shaped by London’s art school environment, Arun sees her Indian heritage as inseparable from her design language. “India is filled with the most beautiful art and jewellery. It’s raw and constantly inspiring. Even though I’m based in London now, my roots are always in India. That’s where my love for adornment comes from: the layering, the styling, watching grandmothers get ready with jewellery stacked up.”
She namechecks Manish Arora as a major influence, along with Rihanna. A dream? “The Met Gala, for sure. Seeing my work worn there, maybe by RiRi.” Right now, she’s developing a diffusion line from Samsara — something more wearable but still conceptually rooted in the same ideas. “I had people who loved the statement pieces but wanted something a little easier to style. The two diffusion pieces I’ve done so far have actually done better than anything else. That’s a good sign.”
She’s doing it all solo: designing, producing, content, logistics, even teaching herself to code to build her own website. “I hand-make every single piece so that timelines can be intense. But I’m working on setting up a small workshop in India. That’s where it should be made — by hand, with Indian craftsmanship. Hopefully, within a month or so, I’ll have some help and pieces ready to order.” Despite her momentum, she’s honest about the challenges of breaking into the fashion industry, especially without connections. “It’s really hard. I knew no one here,” she says. “But I’ve been fortunate. My tutors encouraged me to stay true to myself. They told me there’s a hunger for this kind of work.”
For now, she’s focused on keeping the creativity going. When burnout hits, she turns to nature — textures and quiet places that help her reset. “Sometimes you’re full of ideas and sometimes you’re not. But I try to keep at it even when I hate everything I’m designing. Just being consistent and surrounding myself with inspiration helps.”
That push and pull between the natural and the constructed, tradition and innovation, chaos and control, visibly runs through everything she does. And it’s refreshing.
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