The Curator’s Eye: Crafting Your Signature Vintage Interior
The Curator’s Eye: Crafting Your Signature Vintage Interior
Vintage isn’t just a look. It’s a lived experience. A way of setting intentions for how you want to move through your home, how you want to feel, and how you want your story to unfold. For me, that means a kitchen built for efficiency — get in, do your thing, get out. A living room that’s a stage, open and inviting, where the real stars are our friends and their ever-changing fashion. Bedrooms that feel restorative, places you retreat to—not just crash in. Yours might be different, and that’s the point: vintage is deeply personal.
Choosing vintage is a quiet rebellion against the relentless churn of modern consumer culture. It’s a way to honor craftsmanship, stretch the value of a dollar, and nod to sustainability. It also bridges socio-economic divides. That worn heirloom passed through generations is no different in spirit from a piece carefully sourced from The Sagrada gallery. When we launched The Sagrada, our goal was to shape identity through collected stories, artifacts, art, and moments that matter.
Balancing respect for history with modern life is key. One of my favorite pieces in my own home is a vintage record console — a massive wood cabinet we found nonfunctional at an estate sale. My husband refurbishes vintage electronics, and this particular console proved to be a challenging project. He poured hours into restoring it. Today, it lives in our dining room, serving as a buffet, a daily landing strip, and the soundtrack of our home. You can hear its music in the living room; it’s the heartbeat of the house.
People often think vintage means being trapped in a specific era. While I lean heavily into the ’60s and ’70s, vintage is fluid. The ’90s and Y2K are now vintage, winning hearts with younger collectors. Clinging rigidly to one period limits you. I see many older collectors scoffing at things they feel may not be “correct,” but that comes from a place of stagnation. They already hit their peak, let them ride it out, but don’t let those attitudes affect you. Time moves, tastes evolve—and vintage should, too.
I encourage people to think for themselves. Appreciate pieces even if they’re “not your vibe.” I say it out loud all the time: “It’s not my vibe, but it’s a vibe.” Learn to recognize and appreciate good engineering, quality materials, and pieces that distinctly embody their era or place of origin. Mixing wood tones and eras creates richness, not chaos. The best vintage interiors feel collected, layered, intentionally imperfect.
Stories sometimes can outweigh condition. I’m a furniture restorer, so I know when condition counts — some pieces, like a dresser, benefit from care. But I’ve seen ragged 100-year-old Japanese denim that was breathtaking. One client begged me not to restore her teak dresser despite damage, saying, “It’s only original once.” That stuck with me.
Our families shape how we relate to vintage. A friend’s family treasures Belleek China because the matriarch adored it. Some people learn youg not to touch the silk scraves, dont play on the cedar chest. These lessons about care and reverence are passed down, influencing how we build collections and live with our objects as adults. I think that is something to lean into instead of shy away from and connects us to nostalia and our personal pasts.
Artisan-made pieces are the backbone of authentic vintage interiors. They carry care, intention, and human touch that mass production can’t replicate. CLAY+CODA’s projects—and my home—are filled with these objects because they root a space in truth and warmth.
If mixing eras or wood tones feels daunting, forget the rules. Pick a color palette you love and let the rest fall into place. The era isn’t the point — connection and feeling are.
I started collecting vintage when I was 11. Of course, I didn’t know then that this would be a lifelong journey—one of discovery, restoration, and storytelling. Here we are, though, and my advice is to toss the rules. Collect what feesl good. Let your space reflect you and your life. Dont waste the energy of the money building something that you have to force yourself into when the option to move freely and let layers evolve around you is an option.
When someone walks into a CLAY+CODA-curated space, I want them to feel curiosity. To want to explore every layer, every story, every object. This isn’t a museum — it’s a home. Real, lived-in, and alive. It’s ok to touch things.
I choose vintage every time, unless it’s clearly not an option. It’s a constant dance between honoring the past and embracing today. But vintage is always my first choice.
One of my favorite items in my collection is my current home, designed in 1969 by an architect school dropout named Ivor, a motorcycle-riding artist and rebel. In a quiet neighborhood built for families and golf dads, this home was built for a party. The front is unassuming and windowless which provides me the privacy I crave. Its design puts guests at the forefront of the house and tucks the family in the back rooms away from the chaos. Every major gathering space opens to lead you to the pool. This energy is obvious the moment you step inside. When I do decide to open the big double doors, you see palm trees and stacked living rooms and my bikini-clad friends jumping off the diving board. That spirit informs how I live and design.
Vintage interiors are more than just furniture and décor. They’re about stories, resilience, care, and identity. They invite us to slow down, appreciate craft, and live intentionally. At CLAY+CODA, we help you craft a vintage home that isn’t just styled but lived — full of personality, history, and unapologetic truth.