I don't sell furniture. I build arguments you can sit in.
What are you actually trying to say with the room you live in? Nobody's been asked that before. Not by their architect, not by their decorator, not by anyone selling them something. The answer usually takes a while.
I got here through economics — not as decoration, but as a system. I studied how value moves through markets, how scarcity shapes desire, how timing creates opportunity. Then I looked around my own rooms and realized the same logic applied: every object either strengthened the argument or weakened it. I started asking: what is this piece actually claiming? Is the provenance defensible? Will it hold? Not just aesthetically — economically. The collection sharpened. Then people wanted the system.
Florence Knoll said she was practicing interior architecture, not interior decoration. The distinction mattered because it was the difference between arranging objects in a space and designing the argument the space was making. She was also practicing a kind of curation — understanding that the whole had to hold value as a whole, not just as parts.
That's the distinction that matters to me.