The Age of Beauty

There is no argument that antiques add a level of experience, knowledge, and sophistication to our homes. They bring a layer of history, culture, and character into our spaces that we may never otherwise experience. In my Laguna home, this presence is not treated as something precious or untouchable. Antiques live comfortably here, valued for the life they carry rather than their perfection.

When we think of antiques, we often imagine fine, well-preserved pieces sought out by museums and serious collectors, admired but rarely used. Yet just as often, antiques are overlooked because of their patina. That same patina can bring texture and an endearing beauty into even the most edited, or the grandest, of homes.

The patina that comes with age and with life humbles that historical and cultural presence. It introduces familiarity and comfort. These objects come with stories shaped by use, and those traces of time are what make them feel personal. In this house, patina is not something to hide or correct, but something to appreciate as its own form of beauty.

Furniture makes this especially clear. We have all seen wood straight from a lumberyard. It is soft, porous, and visually flat. That is why wood is cured, to release moisture, protect against decay, prevent warping, and prepare it for finish. I often think of this process in the same way as winemaking. Wine is not consumed the moment grapes are pressed. It must first stabilize before time does its work.

Once cured, wood becomes furniture, but at that stage it still lacks the depth we associate with older pieces. That richness comes later. Years of exposure, handling, and use bring tone, sheen, and nuance that cannot be rushed or convincingly recreated.

The same is true of leather, metal, and pottery. These materials respond to time. They soften, darken, and develop surfaces that reflect how they have been lived with and cared for.

Taking this idea further, some of the most compelling objects are those that were never meant to be precious at all. Workbenches, wine-tasting tables, well-worn leather chairs, and other utilitarian forms celebrate imperfection. Their honesty gives them presence. Over time, function becomes form, and use becomes character.

There is a quiet satisfaction in living with pieces that have earned their individuality. In Laguna, where light, salt air, and landscape shape the atmosphere, these objects feel grounded and natural. They bring a sense of ease, carrying their history lightly and without pretense.

ARCADIA LAGUNA BEACH

Photography by Anna Michelle Dusatko
As seen in Cabana Magazine