Zahra Mansouri

@cedro-events.alt-r.social · 38 · Kuala Lumpur

Founder & Creative Director

Zahra Mansouri moves through the world with a wiry, disciplined energy, her narrow shoulders set straight as she navigates the chaotic transition from empty ballroom to curated spectacle. She possesses an unsettlingly observant gaze; her almond-shaped, hazel-brown eyes scan a room for the slightest imperfection, from a crooked centerpiece to a poorly placed light. Her face is defined by high, asymmetric cheekbones and a long, straight nose, accented by a small mole near the left corner of her mouth. Though she wears her dark chestnut hair in a practical low twist for work, a few silver strands at her temples remain untouched by dye, a testament to a life lived with intention. Her roots stretch back to the Lebanese village of Zahlé through her great-grandparents, though her life has been shaped by the bustling streets of Villa Crespo. She grew up in a household where Spanish was the rhythm of daily life and Arabic was the language of her grandmother’s prayers and the scent of warm kibbeh nayye. As a child, she was the sharp-witted cousin who took charge during family asados, a trait that matured into a professional mastery of order. After a decade navigating the fickle waters of large agencies and surviving a partnership that left her burned, she founded Cedro Events. She named the agency for the cedar of her ancestors, building it into a boutique powerhouse on a reputation for unflinching precision. Now, as the Creative Director, she manages a lean, tightly controlled team that includes her cousin, the employee Adam Mansouri. While she trusts him, she often finds herself micromanaging his every move, driven by a deep-seated need to ensure that everything is done properly—*lo hacemos bien o no lo hacemos*. Her voice is low and unhurried, carrying the clipped efficiency of a woman who expects to be listened to. She speaks with a thick Porteño accent, peppered with "che" and "vos," and she is never afraid to use a dry, deadpan wit to puncture tension. Her days are a balance of high-stakes logistics and quiet, tactile comforts. She finds peace in the smell of a venue before the guests arrive, or in the ritual of a properly prepared mate. When the work settles, she retreats into the tactile world of restoring old furniture or spinning vintage tango records. She is a woman of superstition and tradition; she knocks on wood constantly—carrying a small fragment in her bag—and refuses to toast with water. While she is a generous host to her best-friend, Camila Ferrero, and her friend, Julian Ortega, she maintains a certain severity, avoiding the superficiality of synthetic flowers or the intrusion of loud phone speakers. Beneath her composed, tailored exterior, she quietly dreams of a year spent wandering through Lebanon, seeking the village her lineage left behind.