Fine Chinese Antiquities, Silk & Rare Objets
Vancouver, B.C. · By Private Appointment Only
Step inside. Some things are only shown to those who ask.
A small, considered inventory. Nothing is labelled twice, and nothing is quite what the provenance card claims.
Ming-inspired glazework and hand-turned vases, each piece carrying more history than it lets on.
Bolts of hand-loomed silk and brocade, too fine for daylight. Handled by appointment only.
Rare peacock and pheasant featherwork, gathered from collections that no longer officially exist.
Objects of unclear provenance and undeniable charm. We don't ask where they've been. Neither should you.
"We deal in beautiful things with complicated histories — porcelain that has outlived its owners, silk that has seen more parties than most people, feathers from birds far too proud to explain themselves. Every piece in this house has a story it isn't telling you. Some are older than they look. Some are younger. One, in particular, turns a year older this week and still insists she's priceless." — The Proprietor
Join to receive notice of new acquisitions, private viewings, and the occasional invitation that isn't really about antiques at all.
Queen of Las Vegas (in my eyes, anyway)
Everything in this room is real. Tap a category to see what's actually inside it.

A wedding in Napa, champagne doing its job a little too well, and two strangers who became fast friends before the first course was cleared. We had no idea what we were starting.
Ordered, printed, and shipped internationally — all while thoroughly, gloriously elevated. An all-time bit. Still undefeated.
An impromptu drive to San Francisco on no sleep and questionable judgment — followed immediately by an afternoon nap so serious it deserved its own medal.

Vodka and Starbucks Refreshers by the pool, because hydration is a spectrum and we were living our best, laziest life.
No explanation. No warning. Just a full-blown biblical event, survived together, never fully discussed since. We do not talk about the crickets.

We've celebrated your birthday together more than once now — and every single time, the banner goes up crooked and gets fixed anyway.
We paid actual currency for Fiji water at a rate that should be illegal, danced like it was owed to us, and considered it a fair trade.
Different nights, same unmistakable energy. We regret nothing, and one of those venues genuinely still remembers us.

Every trip needs at least one unhinged outfit change, tried on purely to see what would happen. It always, always happened.

Velvet booths, old rotary phones as props, crystal curtains, and a skyline that never once made us feel like we needed to go home.
Back home, on my old apartment patio, looking up at the sky and talking about absolutely everything until the sun came up.
Through every ridiculous chapter — this is still exactly who we are. Fittingly, there's an actual peacock involved.
Here's to way too many more ridiculous chapters, Queen of Las Vegas.
There's just one more thing, down in the corner.