Books and architecture. Stories and spaces. The way we collect, the way we curate—it all says something about us. I’ve always believed that real estate isn’t just about finding a place to live—it’s about creating a narrative, an environment that reflects who you are and what inspires you.
A home should feel layered, textured, considered. The best ones do. You walk in, and instantly, you know—this space has a point of view. And one of the most effortless ways to create that energy? Books.
There is something deeply intimate about a home filled with books. More than décor, more than design—they tell a story of curiosity, creativity, and personal evolution. The weight of a book in your hands, the way typography shapes a narrative, the intoxicating scent of ink and paper—books connect us to ideas, to history, to inspiration beyond our own. Some of the most remarkable homes I’ve ever stepped into weren’t just architecturally significant—they were infused with this kind of energy. Libraries overflowing, coffee tables stacked with oversized monographs, magazines curated like art installations. A library is not simply a room; it’s a portal—one that invites exploration, sparks conversation, and reveals the character of the person who lives there.
I tell my clients this all the time: the best homes have stories to tell. And books? They tell those stories before you ever say a word.
The Power of Collecting
Some people collect real estate. Others collect art. I collect both—because to me, they are one and the same. A brilliantly designed home is like a rare book—layered, intentional, timeless. Whether it’s a penthouse in Miami, a beachfront retreat in Malibu, or a historic estate in Aspen, a home should not just be a space—it should be an experience.
This is why I encourage my clients: don’t just buy books—curate them. Invest in ones that feel like art objects, the kind that demand to be displayed, that invite conversation. Books are not merely for reading; they are for living with. They belong everywhere—in stacks on sculptural tables, on floating shelves in a sunlit study, leaning casually against a sleek marble console.
Some of the most extraordinary homes I’ve worked with had collections that spoke louder than their architecture. First editions with cracked spines and gilded edges resting on vintage leather chairs. Palo Samko wood shelving displaying signed art retrospectives. A minimalist Boffi kitchen, punctuated by an intentional arrangement of Monocle, L’Uomo Vogue, and Kinfolk. In these homes, books were not just accessories—they were artifacts of identity, reflecting a lifetime of taste, travel, and creative pursuit.
I once toured a Montecito estate—an oceanfront masterpiece, contemporary yet soulful. And while the panoramic views and dramatic architecture were breathtaking, the true focal point of the home was the library. Shelves lined with volumes collected over decades, every book handpicked, every title significant. Rare bindings. First printings. Signed dedications. It wasn’t just a collection—it was a legacy. A living, evolving archive of a life well lived.
Building a Library, Building a Home
A home library doesn’t have to be grand to be meaningful. Even a single stack of books in the right place can shift the energy of a room. Thoughtfully arranged, books create warmth, depth, and an undeniable sense of intention.
A few guiding principles:
• Curate by genre. Art, architecture, design, photography, philosophy—choose books that reflect your passions.
• Think sculpturally. Use sand-cast bronze bookends, polished marble weights, or leather-wrapped trays to add layers and texture.
• Go beyond shelves. Books can live anywhere—on a Lucite coffee table, inside a woven leather basket, stacked beside an accent chair.
• Lighting is everything. A soft-glow lamp casting light over an oversized monograph. A statement fixture above a curated book display. The right illumination transforms books into objects of art.
I’ve always admired hotels that understand the power of books. A hotel library isn’t just about providing reading material—it’s about shaping an atmosphere, an experience. The Rosewood in São Paulo, The Standard in London, Ett Hem in Stockholm—all perfect examples of how books make a space feel curated, considered, alive.
The best homes do the same. They invite you in, they make you want to stay, they make you want to discover.
The Best Design Bookstores in the World
If you’re building a collection, start with the best sources. In every city I visit, bookstores are my first stop. They tell me something about the place, about its creative energy, its cultural depth. The best ones always lead to something unexpected.
Here are a few of my go-tos:
• Los Angeles: Book Soup, The Last Bookstore
• New York: Rizzoli, Casa Magazines, Strand
• San Francisco: William Stout Architectural Books
• Berlin: Do You Read Me?!
• Paris: 0fr., Librairie Galignani, Librarie 7L
• London: IDEA, John Sandoe, the bookshop at the Tate Modern
• Tokyo: Bunkitsu
• Stockholm: Papercut (for magazines)
• Mexico City: Casa Bosques
• Buenos Aires: El Ateneo Grand Splendid (a converted theater—unreal)
And for those rare finds that escape you? ABEbooks.com. Always.
Leaving Your Mark
A great book collection should evolve. It should be personal, imperfect, and deeply lived-in. I always leave something inside the books I buy—a receipt from the bookstore, a note from the day I found it, a gallery card from a nearby exhibit. Because when you pick up that book years later, it should take you back—to a place, a moment, a feeling.
One of my favorite gifts to give is a book from my personal collection. One that I’ve lived with, traveled with, loved. I write a note inside, something to mark the moment. It’s a small gesture, but it transforms an object into something singular, something irreplaceable.
Because great books—like great homes—are not just owned. They are experienced.
And that is what real estate is, too. It’s not just where you live—it’s how you live.
