Objects with a past.
Spaces with a presence.

I find them at the Paris flea markets — 19th-century frames that have already lived. Carved gilding, worn oak, gilding dulled by time. Each one has a history I can feel but never fully know.

Then I find the painting that belongs inside it. Not the famous one. The one that stays with you.

The frame lived through the same Paris. So did the painting. I simply introduced them.

Each object exists only once.

Van Gogh, Modigliani, Klimt, Kisling — artists everyone knows, in works almost no one has seen. The painting and the frame become a single object. That object goes on a wall, and the wall is never quite the same.

Celantur arcana, patet aura.

The secrets remain hidden. The presence is immediate.

An object with two histories and one presence. Ready to hang. Ships from Paris.

It began in Seoul, where I trained as a fashion designer and first travelled to Paris for the collections — a city I didn't yet know would become mine. London came next: Céline, Louis Vuitton, the particular education of dressing women who know exactly what they want. Then Paris again, this time for good — Faure Le Page, Pierre Corthay, places where an object is never just an object.

Somewhere along the way, the flea markets became my obsession. The frames, the silence inside them, the question of what belongs there.

Eugénie's Secret Museum is my answer.