Trends come and go, but what endures is worth keeping. Explore antiques curated by Paris Brocante and Elizabeth Garcia
Whilst some might regard old things as irrelevant; design history suggests the opposite. Everything contemporary stands on what was built before. The past is not a relic, it is the foundation of taste, culture and progress.
Antiques endure not through sentiment, but through respect. Each piece carries the weight of time, a reminder that endurance itself can be a form of elegance. Nostalgia, in this sense, is not weakness but continuity, a quiet recognition that beauty and history are inseparable.
For a home or object to survive centuries, it must have either purpose or love. When visiting antique dealers, spaces this writer wandered as a child, close inspection follows for the pieces that catch one’s eye. This is not an exercise in finding flaws, but to understand the context of the life they’ve lived.
More from Tatler: A legendary figure: Patrick Seguin on leaving a legacy in the world of vintage furniture
Above Antique fair finds at Chatou, image courtesy of Paris Brocante

Above Christofle Louis XIV Coquille pattern knife rests curated by Paris Brocante
In Manila, Paris Brocante is an excellent purveyor of silver and other antique objets d’art. It has a wide range of pieces which engender feelings of nostalgia, reminding us of an elegant world that has now passed. One of its silver vide poche trays is used in this writer’s powder room to hold a pyramid of rolled hand towels for guests. Everything from asparagus servers to the most antique, elegant salt and pepper shakers is on offer.
In Cebu, Elizabeth Garcia has a wonderful selection of Belgian and Irish linen, some from the 1940s, as well as maps and other pieces. She carefully selects items with her sister, who is based in Europe. Together, they bring spectacular things to our shores, most notably, beautiful linen that cannot be reproduced today, as handmade and hand-embroidered linen is becoming a rare art form. She ships internationally.
Perfection is not defined by the absence of marks; one could speculate that this reveals that something was rarely touched or carefully preserved. Scratches and grazes do not signal neglect, but evidence of life, a story told through wear. In these instances, patina becomes the record of beauty in motion, proof that what endures does so by evolving. The things kept close over time do not merely belong to us; they become part of who we are. It is lived in, held often and remembered well.
Above Pair of silver geese curated by Elizabeth Garcia
Above Antique set of French knives and forks curated by Elizabeth Garcia
Perhaps it’s time to look at patina differently, not as decay, but as integrity. In a culture captivated by the new, its presence suggests another kind of value. Each scuff, tarnish and softened edge hints that time has achieved what design alone cannot: a character that feels entirely its own.
At auction houses across the world, this truth is being rediscovered. A George Nakashima “Conoid” bench recently sold for over USD 100,000, not because it gleamed, but because its surface bore the grain and touch of his hand. A 1950s Jean Prouvé dining table with its patina fetched more than a restored version. Collectors now insist on original condition, the kind of imperfection that proves the piece lived through its own story.
Related: Designing for humanity: inside Design Week Philippines’ celebration of collective flourishing

Above Silver plated bottle coasters curated by Paris Brocante
Above A vintage hand painted vase curated by Elizabeth Garcia
Even silver, once polished into anonymity, is reclaiming its rightful dignity. At Sotheby’s, Georgian and Regency silver with subtle oxidation often outperforms overly cleaned examples. That faint darkening in the crevices, the very thing some would scrub away, is now what buyers pay for. It’s evidence of age, continuity and the maker’s original intent.
Furniture tells the same tale. A Gio Ponti cabinet showing signs of use from its first owners, or a chair designed and produced during his lifetime, can command double the value of later reproductions. In Paris and Milan, dealers now speak reverently of honest condition. It’s a phrase that acknowledges that restoration has limits, that the soul cannot be reapplied.
Patina, in antiques in this sense, is more than surface. It’s a moral stance. It says: this has been lived with, cared for and allowed to age with dignity. It’s a philosophy that stands against disposability, against our culture’s obsession with the pristine.

Above Antique Italian linen curated by Elizabeth Garcia

Above A silver plated Silent Butler curated by Paris Brocante
The same principle applies to our lives. The marks we carry, the experiences, the setbacks, the lessons are not flaws. They’re our own patina. They prove that we’ve lived, adapted and endured.
Design, like life, should not be about erasing history but honouring it. When something endures, it gains depth. When we allow for wear, we invite authenticity. So the next time you see an old cabinet with its varnish softened by decades of sunlight, or a piece of silver that glows instead of shines, don’t wish it were newer. See it for what it is, the rarest kind of luxury: one that cannot be replicated, only earned through time.
Patina is proof of presence. In design and in life, nothing is more valuable than that.
NOW READ
The art of the quiet room: YogaLove founder Monique Borja Gonzalez on creating spaces of calm
Home tour: a Parisian apartment blending 18th-century grandeur with curated antiques
Inside Kai-yin Lo’s Hong Kong home—a treasure trove of antiques and her prized jewellery design



