Some pieces you find. Others find you.

I’ve been sourcing vintage European objects long enough to know the difference. Most pieces come through patience—scanning markets, building relationships, learning to recognize something real among the noise.

But every so often, something arrives and you just know. Before you can explain it. Before you even fully see it.

That’s what happened with her.

Some pieces you find. Others find you.

I’ve been sourcing vintage European objects long enough to know the difference. Most pieces come through patience—scanning markets, building relationships, learning to recognize something real among the noise.

But every so often, something arrives and you just know. Before you can explain it. Before you even fully see it.

That’s what happened with her.

I didn’t set out to source vintage objects from Europe. It happened the way most good things do—quietly, almost by accident…
It was 2020. I was deep in a home renovation in Miami, searching for pieces that would make our home feel like us.
Not just decorated. Curated.

I’ve always been drawn to antiques. Growing up, I watched my parents see objects differently—the way something old could hold feeling, could carry a story you almost didn’t need to be told.

This time, I was looking with intention.