16 November 2025
Sasja Sÿdek - With a smile and a glass of champagne
In a sunlit Melbourne apartment lined with heels, handbags and silk, Sasja Sÿdek laughs as she gestures toward her famed wardrobe - a space that has become something more than a collection of fashion. “It’s my happy place,” she says. “Everyone who comes here ends up in the wardrobe with a glass of champagne. It’s where people can be themselves”
That sentiment - of fun and of offering sanctuary - runs through every part of Sasja’s story. A proud trans woman of colour and an Indigenous person from Singapore, Sasja embodies the intersection of culture, faith, gender, and creativity. Her life is a celebration of visibility.
Sasja wears her story on her skin. Etched on her shoulder is a tattoo of a wolf attacking a teddy bear. It’s a striking image - a haunting self-designed emblem of conflict and courage, and of the strength that survives it all. Growing up in Singapore, Sasja’s sense of self was shadowed by laws and cultural expectations that denied her existence. “We don’t have trans rights there,” she says. “I was thrown in a jail cell more than thirty times just for existing. “
Her memories of those years are stark: police harassment, and the constant need to hide. Yet even in that harsh environment, a sisterhood flourished — a quiet network of trans women who cared for one another, sharing support, and information through word of mouth long before the internet could guide them.
“The sisterhood is all about helping the other sisters - like myself, who were a bit lost when transitioning and didn’t know where to get hormones. I started off with black market hormones - you didn’t know what you were actually consuming. There was no such thing as iPhones to research what these pills were and there’s no such thing as going to a specialist to talk about what hormones are good for you”
“It wasn’t safe,” she recalls, “but it was the only way we could survive.”
Her experiences with the sisterhood fueled a deep personal understanding of the importance of trans elders and commitment to sharing their stories.
When she moved to Melbourne for a fashion internship, Sasja’s world expanded. She discovered not just professional freedom but personal liberation.
“In Melbourne, I could finally say: I’m a trans woman - and proud of it.”
Sasja channels the same sense of care and connection she discovered with the sisterhood in Singapore into her current work and fashion remains a defining thread in Sasja’s life. Having studied fashion marketing and management she sees clothing as both art and armour - a means of expression and self-protection.
“Fashion saved me,” she says. “It gave me a way to tell the world who I am without saying a word.”
Her wardrobe, now an evolving installation of her life’s journey, stands as both personal archive and safe space. Friends visit not just to admire her gowns but to share stories, laughter, and solidarity. “It’s more than just clothes,” she says. “It’s a place where we can drop the mask - or put one on, if that’s what makes us feel powerful.”
For many years, Sasja felt she had to choose between her faith and her identity. Raised in a devout Muslim family, she faced rejection and misunderstanding when she began her transition. Yet over time, she found ways to reclaim both her spirituality and her sense of self.
In Melbourne she is the co-founder of Queer Muslim Naarm - an organisation created to make visible what was once hidden.
“I love being Muslim,” she says simply. “I don’t love being told I can’t exist.”
“We didn’t want to keep being the invisible ones. We wanted to show that queer Muslims exist, that we can live proudly in faith and identity. We’re here. And we deserve to be seen.”
What began as a small community iftar has grown into a movement - one where queer and straight Muslims share space, learn from each other, and celebrate together.
Sasja’s advocacy extends beyond community gatherings and into the airwaves. At 3CR Radio, she co-hosts Queering the Air, a program dedicated to diverse LGBTQIA+ voices often unheard in mainstream media. It’s where she found not only purpose but belonging.
“I never thought people would take me seriously because of my accent,” she admits. “Then I came to 3CR and realised - everyone here has an accent. Everyone here has a story.”
Her podcast episodes often spotlight trans elders - a group she calls “the forgotten generation.” She invites them to share their experiences, building an audio archive of lived history and intergenerational wisdom. “I want their voices to live on,” she says. “So, the young ones can hear them and know they’re not alone.”
While much of Sasja’s work stems from activism, she resists the idea that advocacy must always be solemn. “I create events to bring happiness to our community,” she says. “To bring people out of isolation. It’s not always about trauma. Sometimes healing looks like laughter, dancing, or just being together.”
Her approach to advocacy is rooted in love. A love for her community, her culture, and the possibility of change. “I can’t always fix everything,” she says. “But I can make sure that when people leave my events, they feel lighter.”
Sasja’s story isn’t just about survival - it’s about celebration. Whether she’s hosting an event for Melbourne’s queer Muslim or multicultural community’s, sharing laughter in her wardrobe or mentoring others, she creates connection where silence once lived.
Tattoos on each arm read Love and Hate, but it’s clear which side wins out.
Her gaze carries the presence of someone who has lived through repression and chosen joy.
In sitting down to photograph Sasja Sÿdek I wanted to capture the layered complexity of a woman who moves fluidly between resilience and radiance. Someone whose courage is expressed not through defiance alone, but through compassion and self-possession. The images reveal the intersection between identity and environment: the quiet strength of a woman framed by the textures of her world - fabrics, mirrors, and lights that seem to amplify her story. I aimed to capture, not just the advocate, or the performer, but the person - the laughter, the warmth. The photographic process became an invitation to see Sasja as she sees herself. Whole, gloriously unapologetic, and fun.
I hope these portraits capture that radiance, along with the intimacy of home, the glamour of self-expression, and the quiet strength of a woman who embodies courage with grace.
Sasja’s life is a reminder that pride can coexist with prayer, that visibility can sit beside vulnerability, and that courage often begins quietly - in a wardrobe filled with colour, laughter, and love.
