10/30/2026

AI Generated Content
In the first days of November, when the calendar turns our thoughts to those who came before us, family objects start to be noticed again. They often sit at the back of a wardrobe or on a shelf where no one looks, and their value lies entirely in the person they belonged to.
Keeping is a choice: among the things that come from another life, you save those that still have something to say in the space of today. The rest can be photographed, remembered, let go without guilt.

AI Generated Content
A grandparent's chest of drawers in a contemporary house can look out of place, or become the piece that gives depth to the whole room. It almost always depends on how much space it is given.
An antique works when it stands alone, with a clear wall behind it and few objects on top, next to simple surfaces that let it speak. Lined up with other period pieces it turns a room into a museum; set on its own in a modern interior it becomes an anchor, the place where the eye rests.

AI Generated Content
The objects that matter need to be seen, but not all at once. A bookcase or a display cabinet holding a few chosen pieces, changed from time to time the way one rotates pictures, keeps the relationship with what we own alive and stops it fading into the background.
The practical rule is to leave at least a third of the shelves empty. Free space lets the objects present breathe and leaves room for those still to come, because a lived-in house keeps gathering for a lifetime.

AI Generated Content
Furnishing around an object you love is a different way of designing: you start from something that already exists and build the rest to accompany it. In our showroom we do this often, with bookcases and storage designed to give each thing its place and its light.
Read more: How to choose modern bookshelves and the bookcases by Devina Nais to give the objects that matter the space they deserve.
Interior Designer since 1985
CEO & Founder, Italian Design in the World
From now until January the visits arrive: relatives for the holidays, friends passing through, someone staying one night longer than planned. It is the right moment to look at the room that welcomes them, and to ask what it does the rest of the year.
The first long rains of October test a house more than any guest. They show where water gets in, where damp settles, which materials hold up and which begin to suffer.
In summer the kitchen works fast, on a high flame with the window open. In October the oven stays on for hours, and with it the way we live in the liveliest room in the house changes too.
In October the wardrobe turns upside down: linen climbs to the high shelves, wool comes down to hand height. It is one of the few household rituals that repeats unchanged every year, and one of the most neglected.
There is one precise evening, towards the end of September, when the window gets closed without a thought. From then on the house changes its job, and it pays to notice.
From September surfaces change their job. What had to stay cool and bare through summer starts asking for thickness, weave, something to touch.