Luxury in architecture is not different from luxury in life.
Luxury is having what makes you happy at home.
Luxury are spaces that make you take a deep breath, that amaze you, that make you think, find it strange, that move you…
It is possible to try to be happy with the minimum, get rid of all excesses, yet, if for you the least must be the most, then stay with the most. Luxury is having no rules.
Luxury is not owning “Bombé”, “Délavé” or “Flambé” furniture, but it might as well be. Luxury is not being ashamed of saying I like it when you like it or I don’t know when you don’t know. Luxury is not having a collection of famous brands, yet it is not the basic white T-shirt, either. Luxury is being able to mix these things naturally.
It is not owing anyone anything.
The pillow might be stuffed with goose down or horse mane. Luxury is being able to rest your head on it, peacefully.
To some, luxury may be buying a first-class ticket. To me, it is gobbling down a quarter pounder with cheese at the airport before boarding, instead of eating the hideous food that is served.
Luxury is being able to change your plans at any moment.
It is to be independent, unchained, free. It is to say no, it is to say yes, it is to say maybe, whenever you want.
It is to linger a little longer, if you feel like.
Luxury is to sit by the fireplace at dusk, in Winter, wearing a threadbare cashmere sweater, a pair of Scottish socks with some holes in them, a small plain glass full of cachaça, a cocker spaniel by your side, and a never-ending CD by Blossom Dearie. That might be in the English countryside, yet, with the passing of time and the onset of maturity, we realize it may also be in São Paulo’s countryside.
And that perception is truly a luxury.

Vogue Brasil. n.313. 2004