Issues

‘We want to sell Mexico to Mexicans’: Why Mexico City’s fashion boutiques are celebrating native talent

To reach the entrance of Xinú perfumes, a fragrance shop in Mexico City’s Juárez neighbourhood, you have to weave between other shoppers down a busy path flanked by plants. Inside the wood-and-glass building, crowds of customers spray their wrists, sample tester strips and marvel at the magnificent space, which was designed by Héctor Esrawe and Ignacio Cadena. A short walk away, a queue is beginning to form outside Lengua, one of the city’s new jewellery shops, opened in 2025 to spotlight the work of Latin American designers. Outside, two clients sit on a bench and patiently wait. And why not? It’s a beautiful Saturday morning, with the sun streaming through the trees.

Hugo Rosellón, the shop’s owner and jewellery designer, also has another outpost nearby. He tells Monocle how the city’s transformation has increased consumer appetite for Latin American brands. He leads us past Lengua’s glass boxes, which are filled with silver earrings and gold chains by designers such as Puerto Rican Hernán Herdez. He says that customers who would previously have spent $300 (€260) on jewellery are now buying pieces priced at $5,000 (€4,300) or more. “That’s why we decided to open this new place,” he adds.

Over the past decade, a wave of homegrown brands has emerged as Mexico City’s popularity as a destination has risen. “So many people are travelling here,” says Montserrat Messeguer, who launched her namesake brand in 2017, specialising in Western wear and high-end artisanal cowboy boots crafted in El Bajío, where they have historically been produced. “It has been a great opportunity to open shops adjacent to businesses serving food,” she adds, noting that most people who come to the city have traditionally been drawn here by its culinary and architectural appeal. Now, they’re coming for retail too. One of Messeguer’s three locations is just around the corner from popular seafood restaurant Contramar.

Visitors from the US and Europe venture to the residential neighbourhood of San Miguel Chapultepec, where Chava Studio’s flagship shop is located. Founded by US-born Olivia Villanti, Chava quickly built a global reputation for fitted shirts in neutral palettes, with extra-large cuffs and crispy cottons.

Villanti moved to Mexico City – her husband’s hometown – in 2020 and started out making shirts for herself using fabrics from Gilly e Hijos, a company run by her in-laws, and importing textiles from Europe’s best mills. When people began asking where she got her button-downs, she decided to expand her production. What began with seven made-to-order designs has since grown into a company with fully fledged tailoring collections for men and women, as well as a selection of shirts sold off the rack – a hit among her international clientele.

“People want to go home with something,” says Villanti. She worked with Sebastián Mancera of architectural practice Taller 3000 to renovate her new boutique, a calm oasis clad in wood panels. The boutique’s unfussy location also captures Chava and Villanti’s independent spirit, and has opened up opportunities for visitors to see the city in a new light. The quaint neighbourhood is dotted with contemporary galleries, plus the Casa Luis Barragán museum, as well as a series of new favourites such as Saint bakery and Comal Oculto, an antojería that’s ideal for post-shopping bites.

The new wave of creativity across the city is changing the way that residents shop too. “We used to overlook things that were made in Mexico,” says designer Patricio Campillo, who was a semi-finalist in the 2024 LVMH Prize, an annual award run by the luxury group to support emerging designers. Campillo has a shop in Juárez; he tells Monocle that foreign appreciation has inspired locals to embrace homegrown brands. This has allowed him to be more experimental with his designs, price his pieces more competitively and collaborate with artisans on more intricate techniques.

Meanwhile, the city’s creative revival is spurring story tellers of all kinds to spread the word about local designers and artisans. Jessica Ramírez, the director and co-founder of advisory firm The Consumer Collective, points to the power of podcasts. “A lot of Mexican ones have very strong followings,” she says, adding that much of South America looks to Mexico as an entry point to the rest of the world.

This is partly why global luxury houses are now following suit. WGSN’s Mexico City-based trend forecaster, Catalina Marin, says that, unlike more established places such as the US or China, Mexico City’s overall luxury market is still expected to grow by 5 per cent in the next five years. “We are seeing growth of the upper-middle class and new luxury consumers: younger shoppers entering the market earlier,” says Marin, pointing to the recent arrivals of labels such as Tiffany & Co and Carolina Herrera, both of which have leaned into localised marketing experiences. The latter created a special collection for the Mexican market at El Palacio de Hierro, one of the city’s best-known department stores.

“Hermès is creating visual merchandising with Mexican architects and designers,” adds Marin. “The approach is more localised.” In 2023, Cartier launched a major exhibition, Cartier Design: A Living Legacy, curated by Ana Elena Mallet and designed by architect Frida Escobedo, both from Mexico, at the Jumex Museum. Ramírez adds that the city has become a stop on film press tours too. “Netflix has been betting on Mexico City,” she says. “These things go hand in hand.”

On Avenida Presidente Masaryk, a street in Polanco lined with brands such as Max Mara and Hermès, there’s no shortage of people carrying designer bags. Local shops such as Lago and Ikal, which showcase Mexican designers alongside international names, have become go-to destinations too. One person helping to drive this integration is Karla Martínez de Salas, the editor in chief of Vogue México y Latinoamérica. “She has done a fantastic job with Mexico, highlighting the culture and putting it alongside international high-end brands,” adds Ramírez.

Marin notes that Latin American labels such as Carla Fernández are also becoming increasingly attractive because consumers want items that are unique. “Women from Central or South America are not necessarily going to New York any more – they want something that tells a story,” she says. Eduardo Dubost, Ikal’s owner, adds that he has been seeing a lot of brands from places such as Colombia and Argentina using Mexico as a gateway to the global luxury market. “The country has turned into a platform,” he adds.

Back in Juárez, the queues start to disperse, revealing a neat line-up of beautifully designed shopfronts. “We have realised that we have to elevate the retail experience if we want to optimise our sales,” says Campillo, who shares a space with local design brand Varon. At Lengua down the road, the design of the shop – a boxy space clad in red Talavera tiles – has become a reason to visit in itself. “It took eight months to finish,” says Rosellón, proud of the space that he designed. “This is an ode to sculpture and Mexican luxury,” he says, adding that it isn’t just a shop for big-spending travellers. “We want to sell Mexico to Mexicans.”

Mexico City address book
(Read our complete city guide here)

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Shop:
Xinú Perfumes
Handcrafted perfumes celebrating the scents of the region.
Alejandro Dumas 161, Polanco 11560

Ikal
Best curation of local brands.
Avenida Presidente Masaryk 340A, Polanco 11550

Chava Studio
Made-to-order shirts spun from Italian fabrics.
General Francisco Ramírez 24, Ampliación Daniel Garza, 11840

Lengua Concept
Jewellery from some of the best designers in Latin America.
Jalapa 125, Roma Norte, Cuauhtémoc, 06700

Stay:
Maison Lezard
A cluster of bright rooms in a mansion house.
Ámsterdam 155, Colonia Condesa, Cuauhtémoc, 06100

Casa Tenue
A cosy hotel in the middle of the city, celebrating local craft.
Durango 75, Roma Norte, Cuauhtémoc, 06700

Eat and drink:
Ticuchi
Local cuisine meets zingy mezcal drinks.
Francisco Petrarca 254, Polanco, 11560

El Minutito
Start the day with an espresso and end it with a glass of wine at this art deco spot.
Londres 28, Juárez, Cuauhtémoc, 06600

Read Monocle’s complete travel guide to Mexico City, here.

Travel across L’Empordà, Spain – a coastline of storied hotels, seafront tables and surrealist heritage

Stretching from the town of Blanes, about 70km from Barcelona, all the way to the French border, the serrated coastline and plains of Spain’s l’Empordà region are etched into the Catalan identity. The Costa Brava is a place of confounding dualities: a hedonistic playground for the wealthy and a provincial outpost that clings conservatively to the past. It’s a region known for its fishing towns and farmland – but also for having been home to Catalonia’s most cosmopolitan souls, from writer Josep Pla to surrealist Salvador Dalí.

The Hostal de La Gavina in S’Agaró first put this part of Catalonia on the map – literally. The family that opened the hotel in 1932 also built the town. Though it has been updated over the years, there’s something unchanging here that offers comfort in a world in flux. From a long wall of arched windows, you can see slivers of the Med between fresh-trimmed foliage; grand bouquets perfume the air and a side table holds a jug of iced tea. Now run by the founder’s grandchildren, it’s a favourite among those who know this stretch of the Costa Brava.

While the region pioneered Spain’s modern tourism industry in the 1930s, it has surprisingly few international hotel chains. The villas among the coastal pines point to a different, more restrained approach to development – just the way the locals like it.

“More than a resort, we like to call it a mansion,” says Christian Kirschner, La Gavina’s sales and marketing manager, as he leads us into its network of dining salons, drawing rooms and terraces. “This is a good moment for La Gavina because the trend of design hotels seems to have run its course. People are looking to go back to their roots.”

La Gavina was envisaged as a “garden village” – a bold urban-planning project initiated in 1924 that eventually encompassed 160 additional villas in the surrounding hills. It reflected the idealism of businessman Josep Ensesa and architect Rafael Masó, and was an example of noucentisme – a more austere counterpart of Catalan modernism. The project was aimed at bourgeois barcelonins seeking solace outside the city. Almost a third of the 150,000 sq m space is dedicated to gardens, public squares and recreation grounds.

To help nurture the country’s nascent tourism industry, Ensesa commissioned artist Enric Moneny to create a series of expressive posters. Moneny’s whimsical campaigns perfectly capture Ensesa’s fantasy of an exclusive space, free of conflict, where summer feels eternal and high society comes to play. Civil war, however, sapped the hotel’s momentum and forced the family into exile. But by the 1940s, La Gavina had resumed its mission, hosting international tourism conferences as well as illustrious guests. Passing a wall of framed faces, Kirschner tells Monocle about the hotel’s Hollywood era. (We spot photos of Elizabeth Taylor, Ava Gardner and Orson Welles.)

We run into the hotel’s general manager, Joan Carles Casanovas, whose steady hand keeps it all running smoothly. “Hotels are never-ending stories and the backdrop to grand dramas,” he says. “Our job is to make things consistent.” He points to a desk designed by the hotel’s architect that was recently acquired at auction. Most of the furniture here is antique. The word “hostal” in the name has stubbornly been retained, even though its meaning has changed over the decades, leading to occasional confusion among new guests. “We have found ways to improve,” he says. “But we always protect the essence.”

Further up the coast, a little after midday, the sun glints over the terrace tables of Tragamar restaurant. Calella de Palafrugell is a cove of soft-hued boat sheds. Over exquisitely presented tapas, restaurateur Tomás Taruella and his daughter, Gina, offer their take on a recent wave of successions. Tomás tells Monocle that he took over this seafront spot in 2024 from his sister, who had been serving the summer crowds since 1992. More recently, his company, Grupo Tragaluz, took over seafood restaurant Sa Marinada in the town of Sant Feliu de Guíxols following the retirement of its owner. “She saw us as a safe pair of hands because we saw value in preserving the existing ecosystem.” The same father-and-son duo who have long supplied its kitchen still catches fresh fish for it every morning.

The itinerary

Day one:
1. Hostal de La Gavina, S’Agaró

Day two:
2. Tragamar restaurant, Calella de Palafrugell
3. Hotel Madremanya

Day three:
4. Palau de Casavells gallery
5. Mas de Torrent hotel

Day four:
6. Toc al Mar, Aiguablava
7. Hostal de Empúries

Having managed restaurants across Spain for 35 years, Taruella recently set his sights on a guesthouse. He discovered the 12-key Hotel Madremanya after meeting its owner, who wanted to retire. With only 280 residents, the surrounding village is one of many modest medieval clusters of stone, steeples and sentry towers, which dot the Gironese landscape. “I strive to respect each location and what came before,” says Taruella. “It’s more important for us to feel proud of what we do than just to do business for business’s sake.” Guests are encouraged to explore nature paths on foot or by bike; meanwhile, the hotel has a growing collection of crockery from neighbouring pottery workshop Ceràmiques Pantaleu. “The Costa Brava and l’Empordá have always attracted artists and intellectuals who aren’t here to consume but to contribute.”

Not all of the area’s historic mansions are for lodging. The town of Púbol, a 10-minute drive from Madremanya, is where Gala, Dalí’s muse, found refuge from the artist’s eccentricities. The castle-like residence is open to the public as the Castell Gala Dalí museum. Dalí’s acerbic nature wasn’t anomalous in the region. The unsparing Tramuntana winds, which sweep down from the mountains in the off-season, are said to be responsible for a brusque regional character prone to bouts of eccentricity. Laura Ballesteros, the manager of the Palau de Casavells, a contemporary-art gallery set inside a 16th-century estate home, says that this local disposition is also defined by curiosity and a love of dialogue. And, rather than musing about the future, many of the people here are fixated on connections with what came before.

The main building of Mas de Torrent, a hotel and spa, is surrounded by terracotta-tiled villas in the local vernacular. Showing us around its art collection, Susana Basols, the hotel’s director, recalls the time when a local business painted a prominent wall along the highway in a shade of yellow. Graffiti soon appeared, admonishing the owners to “respect l’Empordà’s landscape”. The wall was repainted in a more respectful green. “There’s a collective desire to preserve things,” says Basols.

The following morning, we’re in the lobby of Hostal Empúries, which opened in 1907 as a beachfront villa to host archaeologists arriving to comb through the neighbouring ancient ruins. It now offers 54 guest rooms. Joggers, cyclists and dog-walkers stream up and down the esplanade trail with jagged rock formations on each side of the narrow cove.

Costa Brava means “Wild Coastline”. The name was coined in 1908 by journalist Ferran Agulló i Vidal but was only officially adopted in the 1960s to attract new visitors to the untamed region. Dalí went a step further, talking about the coastline’s “geological delirium” and how the spectacle of its drama had the power to calm the spectator. Pla’s musings about this stretch of coastline – endlessly paraphrased – talked of the sea’s “innumerable smile” and “air of floating fantasy”. Today much has changed but more has stayed the same. This Catalan outcrop is at once conservative, outward-looking and avant garde, and all the better for it. 

Address book: Where to visit in L’Emporda

1.
Hostal de La Gavina, S’Agaró
This 77-room hotel played a prominent part in transforming the Costa Brava into a mecca on the Med. Many of its staff have been welcoming guests for over a decade. Its padel courts date back to the 1990s and the saltwater pool has views looking out at the bay. The hotel also owns La Taverna del Mat, a restaurant on the S’Agaró beach, which was refreshed in 2013.
lagavina.com

2.
Tragamar, Calella de Palafrugell
Platja de Canadell’s seafood restaurant is known for hosting long meals for locals, visitors and musicians. No one will hurry you off a table here – it’s just not their way.
grupotragaluz.com

3.
Hotel Madremanya, Empordà
Surrounded by rolling hills, fields and cycle paths, the unspoiled medieval village of Madremanya is a labyrinth of narrow streets. This hotel, which reopened in May, is a personal project of Tomás Tarruella and his wife, photographer Paula Ospina, reimagined by Taruella’s longtime collaborator Eduard Aruga. Its uncluttered interiors capture the best of Catalan art and design.
hotelmadremanya.com

4.
Palau de Casavells, Empordà
Holding bold contemporary-art exhibitions in a rustic 16th-century building, Palau de Casavells embodies the region’s cultural identity: anchored to the past but committed to creativity and dialogue. The institution, which is part of the Barcelona-founded Alzueta Gallery, has become an increasingly active, experimental and confident part of the Empordà art scene.
alzuetagallery.com

5.
Mas de Torrent, Empordà
This 39-key hotel in a former family masia became part of Spain’s Único portfolio in 2019. Its owner, Pau Guardans i Cambò, houses his collection of muralist Josep María Sert’s Catalan Evocations series here. Chef Eugeni de Diego is an alumnus of El Bulli and the expansive spa includes an indoor pool. Afternoon teas are hosted in the lounge to encourage conversation among guests.
unicohotels.com

6.
Toc Al Mar, North Aiguablava
Beloved for its oakwood grill, this chiringuito-style restaurant above the sands of Aiguablava has been helmed since 2011 by couple Santi Colominas and Sandra Baliarda, together with Ruel Rodeles. Here, you can tuck into a lunch of grilled mussels, a savoury requit de drap (ricotta and anchovies) and the house “noodle paella”, known as fideua.
tocalmar.cat

7.
Hostal Empúries, Alt Empordà
The ancient Greeks were onto something when they built the settlement of Empòrion on this stretch of coastline. Hostal Empúries embraces the straight and simple forms of Spanish colonial style. Come for coastal walks and to take advantage of the cycling paths on the hotel’s sea front.
hostalempuries.com

Kristen Michal, the Estonian leader at the sharp edge of Nato

From his office on Tallinn’s Toompea Hill, Estonia’s prime minister, Kristen Michal, can see the city’s picturesque Old Town. A millennium ago, a fortress was established on this hill to protect the city from invaders. In this respect, not much has changed for today’s occupants of the neoclassical Stenbock House, the official seat of the Estonian government.

Wearing a blue suit with a sinilill-flower lapel pin to mark his support for his country’s veterans, the 50-year-old Michal greets Monocle in one of the 18th-century building’s stately rooms. Like most of his predecessors since independence, the prime minister is one of Europe’s most hawkish voices on Russia. From his country’s perspective, this stance has been successful, so much so that some speak of the “Estonification” of European foreign and security policy. Michal assumed office in 2024, succeeding Kaja Kallas, who went to Brussels to serve as the EU’s chief diplomat. He leads a country of just 1.3 million people that spends 5.4 per cent of its GDP on defence, the highest proportion in Nato.

For all of its rhetorical strength, however, Tallinn cannot defend itself alone. It relies heavily on Nato and the US security umbrella. But the weather in Washington is changing. In Estonia, uncertainty about a diminished US role in Europe’s defence is taken seriously but without pessimism. “Politically, messages from Washington vary,” says Michal. “But the core message is clear: Europe should contribute more to its own security.”

In Tallinn, this sentiment has been hurriedly translated into policy. At Nato’s summit in The Hague last year, the alliance set a new defence-spending benchmark of 5 per cent of GDP by 2035. Estonia and Lithuania are currently the only member states on course to exceed that, a decade early, with Michal’s government directing additional funds towards ammunition stockpiles, air defence and infrastructure.

Meanwhile, the US announced in April that it would halt arms exports to a handful of European countries, including Estonia, as a result of the Iran war, which has severely depleted its missile and interceptor stockpiles. “The reasons are understandable, given US involvement in other conflicts,” says Michal. Despite that measured tone, the US decision is a significant setback, especially given Estonia’s recent $4.7bn (€4bn) commitment to buy American arms – a deal that was largely viewed as an attempt to win over Donald Trump’s White House. Critics point out that understanding the US position does little to fill the gaps in Estonia’s battery lines. It would be difficult to raise similar levels of funding for a replacement deal and it’s unclear what could succeed certain American-made systems such as the HIMARS launchers and Javelin anti-tank weapons that have been so effective at halting Russia’s advance in Ukraine – or whether Washington would take kindly to the Baltic nation taking its business elsewhere.

When it comes to the US’s evolving relationship with Europe, Michal is cautious. “In the future – whether it’s in 10, 20 or 50 years’ time – there will be a realignment of forces and Europe will do more of the burden bearing,” he says. He adds that Nato remains steadfast in its commitment to Baltic defence. “During my time in office, we have seen multiple security incidents involving Russia,” he adds. “We co-ordinated with Nato leadership and Nato ships now protect vital Estonian infrastructure. We have also experienced Russian aircraft entering our airspace and Nato jets have responded. On the operational side, the alliance’s military reaction has been prompt and effective.” Amid these uncertainties, Estonia’s advocacy within the alliance continues. Tallinn has long called for more Nato boots on Baltic ground. At the alliance’s 2022 Madrid summit, a few months after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, leaders agreed to move from “deterrence by tripwire” to “deterrence by denial”, an approach that aims to defend territory immediately rather than retake it later. There are now about 10,000 foreign Nato troops stationed in the three Baltic states (though the number varies as deployments are rotational). Michal is keen for more concrete pledges from allies. “We require investments to match the defence plans,” he says. “Looking ahead, we need more protection against new risks: radars, anti-drone systems and capabilities to counter low-altitude threats.”

The prime minister insists that Europe must also plug a gap in defence manufacturing. “With an economy the size of Italy’s, Russia can outproduce Europe militarily,” he says. “That is not acceptable.” The EU’s defence production still lags behind Russia’s in key areas such as artillery and drones, despite its vastly larger economic base. Still, Michal is optimistic that European nations will scale up, with Ukraine playing a role in shaping that effort and the recent launch of the €800bn Rearm Europe Plan/Readiness 2030 providing the capital. Nonetheless, European production remains hamstrung by peacetime regulations and a focus on building a small number of hi-tech, expensive platforms, rather than simpler, high-volume weapons, such as drones, that have come to define 21st-century conflict.

Michal meets Monocle a day after an EU leaders’ summit in Cyprus, during which he called for the bloc to tax Russian imports to fund Ukraine’s reconstruction. Having lived through Soviet occupation, he is hard-nosed about what he calls Moscow’s “imperial aspirations”. The same, he adds, cannot be said for some of his European counterparts. “There are still people who romanticise Russia and think that you can have dialogue with criminals.” Geography, says Michal, still clouds the judgement of many in western and southern Europe.

Cyberattacks are a key concern. Estonia is one of the world’s most digitally advanced societies, where more than 99 per cent of public services are available online. But this technological strength is also a weakness, providing a centralised target for Russian “grey zone” operations. In 2024 there were 10,185 cyber incidents – a record number – that were countered by the authorities. “Estonia has been dealing with sustained digital attacks from Russia for almost two decades,” says Michal. “The proximity to the threat should no longer be measured in kilometres.”

Security debates in Estonia often circle back to Narva, a border city in which about 85 per cent of residents are Russian speakers. Michal pushes back against the notion that they pose a risk. “More than 80 per cent of Russian speakers living in Estonia identify themselves with Estonia,” he says. “In fact, support for Nato and Ukraine among the Russian-speaking community has increased since 2022.” Recent surveys support this, though integration remains uneven, particularly among older residents. “The most important elements [for keeping this group on side] are educational reform and support for independent Russian-language media,” says the prime minister.

As with Kallas, despite his prominence abroad, Michal faces a more complicated picture at home. His personal approval ratings hover at about 10 per cent and support for his Estonian Reform Party has fallen sharply, from 31 per cent at the last general election to about 13 per cent in recent polls. Discontent is focused on the country’s economy. Defence spending at current levels leaves less room for social spending, while austerity measures introduced by his government have hit public services and disposable incomes. Inflation, which peaked at more than 20 per cent in 2022, has eased but economic growth has been almost non-existent in recent years.

Michal acknowledges the pressure. He has scrapped plans for an income-tax hike and introduced tax breaks for wage earners. This is having some effect, with a modest economic recovery predicted for 2026. “After difficult years, growth is returning,” he says.

The longer-term challenges, however, are harder to resolve. As with much of Europe, Estonia faces an ageing population and declining birth rates. “Young people need housing and a sense of security,” says Michal. “This is something that we must work on.” He speaks with the sober restraint that is characteristic of the country’s political class. “In Estonia, it is not customary to be optimistic,” he adds. Toompea Hill stands as a monument to such realism.

Key moments in Estonian history

1987: In the “Singing Revolution”, concerts featuring folk and national songs became a key form of protest against Soviet rule.

1991: Some 78 per cent of Estonians voted to exit the Soviet Union in a referendum.

1994: On 31 August, the last Russian troops left Estonia.

2004: On 29 March, Estonia joined Nato alongside the other Baltic nations, as well as former Eastern Bloc countries such as Romania and Bulgaria. In May that year, it also joined the EU.

2007: Riots broke out in the Estonian capital and other cities following the decision to remove a statue honouring Soviet soldiers from central Tallinn. This was followed by a series of cyberattacks on Estonia’s digital infrastructure.

2021: Kaja Kallas became Estonia’s first female prime minister. In 2024, she stepped down to serve as the EU’s high representative for foreign affairs.

Japan’s resort industry hits new heights at Nagano’s Karuizawa T-Site

About an hour from Tokyo by bullet train, Karuizawa in Nagano prefecture is a popular weekend spot among residents of the Japanese capital. Visitors come to ski in the winter and enjoy the cooler weather in summer. Imperial connections and distinctive timber architecture have long added to the mountain resort town’s genteel appeal, and architects have made their mark with striking second homes for wealthy city dwellers. People have been flocking here for good food and drink too; Nagano prefecture is well known for its excellent produce and wines.

Now the town has a buzzing new destination. A collaboration between property giant Mitsubishi Estate and the operators of bookshop chain Tsutaya, Karuizawa T-Site is a place to eat, drink and relax, with six buildings, 17 shops and an exit straight from the station. Among its highlights are Shozo Coffee from Tochigi prefecture, natural-wine retailer Avin Stand and a shop celebrating Château Mercian – one of Japan’s oldest wineries, founded in 1877 – with a tasting counter and a line-up of 30 wines. Also look out for Waza Mart, a convenience store that stocks organic brands and local products, and broth shop Dashi Okume, beloved of chefs, which has been in business since 1871.

The development’s restaurants include Sushiya Ono and Osobar, known for its buckwheat soba noodles (a Nagano favourite). You can take a break in the shared lounge, where an hourly or daily fee grants you access to a quiet corner to read and a library of books on art, design and travel.

The facility also includes the Aquaignis Garden Spa, with hot-spring baths for a revitalising dip and two different types of sauna. It has immaculate changing rooms and showers, and makes for a relaxing place to recharge after skiing. Private tatami-floored rooms offer a secluded place for a post-soak snooze and there are plenty of books and drinks on offer. Shinichiro Nakahara, the creative design officer of The Conran Shop in Japan, has overseen key parts of Karuizawa T-Site’s creative direction, notably the spa and the elegant nine-room hotel, Hacienda Karuizawa. Both are under the direction of Aquaignis, operators of resorts that focus on towns and villages. The hotel’s rooms are spacious and the entire building is filled with tastefully selected furniture and vintage pieces. The on-site library is stocked with mountain-themed titles, while the wooden-floored, natural-light-filled lobby is a showstopper. Make sure that you order the room-service breakfast, which is packed with Nagano vegetables. If you want a quick weekend getaway from the bustle of Tokyo, just hop on a train on a Friday night, check in and wake up amid Karuizawa’s fresh air.
store.tsite.jp

Yü-Ge Wang, the auctioneer on a bid to bring art collecting to a new generation

Auctioneer Yü-Ge Wang has always known her worth. “I sold my first work to my father when I was three years old,” she says, as she welcomes Monocle into the London headquarters of Christie’s. Wang has worked for the global auction house since 2015 and is now an associate director and senior client adviser, specialising in the Asian market.

Born in Beijing and raised in Bavaria, Wang came to the UK to study, though she was already intent on finding work in the commercial art sector. After starting at Christie’s, she joined the auction programme and, five years later, stepped up to the rostrum. “I loved the combination of numbers, intuition and a bit of drama,” she says. Wang tells Monocle that she draws on her years of ballet training when choreographing auctions. “Both require discipline and the ability to make things look effortless and flawless,” she says. “It has helped me to maintain an entertaining rhythm while making split-second decisions.”

In recent decades, the emergence of new technologies has expanded the auctioneer’s role. “Nowadays, we’re bringing the world into the auction room,” says Wang. “I want to make everyone feel seen, whether they’re joining us in person or on the phone, or streaming online. Something as subtle as a look or a word of welcome in another language can lift the energy and encourage a potential buyer to raise a bid.”

Extensive preparation is crucial to a successful auction. Wang makes a point of familiarising herself with the arrangement of the room where one is scheduled to take place, identifying blind spots and memorising the numbers in the sale book. Like anyone who is keen to put on a good show, she pays close attention to the smallest details – and that includes the clothes that she wears. “In Asia, many auctioneers match the colours of their outfit to those of the session’s biggest lot,” she says. “It’s something that I keep in mind when the occasion is right.”

A dazzling example of this was the silver jacquard blazer by Chinese designer Huishan Zhang that Wang wore during an auction in London in December 2025, at which she brought the hammer down on The Winter Egg by Fabergé at €26.4m.

Big lots such as that one continue to maintain the house’s reputation but Wang says that she has noticed a shift in buying trends. “We used to rely on Picassos and pieces on that level but I have seen collectors becoming more interested in supporting local talent,” she says. “Huge prizes are being won by South and East Asian artists.” Curation also has a prominent role. “With the new generation of collectors, the mindset is less about trophy hunting and more about selecting pieces that feel authentic to them.”

‘Posters are more than just images on paper.’ Susan Reinhold, the poster dealer elevating prints to fine-art status

In 1972, Susan Reinhold bought a vintage art deco poster for $500 – about $3,500 (€3,000) today – from Madison Avenue art-book dealer Robert Brown. Then she called a poster gallery in London, which quoted her twice the amount for the work, designed by French artist Charles Gesmar for cabaret singer Mistinguett. A poster dealer was born. She convinced Brown to go into business with her; together they ran Reinhold Brown Gallery for decades in New York, before relocating to Ridgefield, Connecticut.

The gallery remains a global clearing house for rare posters. While other dealers and collectors in this field usually organise their wares based on subject matter – such as advertisements for films or those for cars – Reinhold does so in terms of artistic movements: Bauhaus, dada, futurism, constructivism and so on. “Posters are more than just images on paper,” says Reinhold. “They’re works of art and design that teach you about history.”

The poster gallery is also one of the few that specialise in originals, meaning designs that were specifically created for the medium, rather than reproductions of a painting, in their first printing. There are often fewer than a dozen extant copies of a treasured poster from the late 19th to the first half of the 20th century. Over the years, the gallery has sold to Moma in New York and London’s Victoria & Albert Museum, as well as to the late Condé Nast chairman Si Newhouse and fashion designer Ruki Matsumoto.

Rare posters generally range in price from $1,000 (€856) to $100,000 (€85,600). Some, however, have sold for far more. The Los Angeles County Museum of Art acquired Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s 1896 work “The Scottish Musical Review” for a six-figure sum, while the Reinhold Brown Gallery brokered similarly big sales for two designs for Fritz Lang’s 1927 film Metropolis. The robot poster is now the world’s most valuable printed film ad, estimated at about $1m (€853,000). While film buffs are charmed by Metropolis’s cinematic heritage, the appeal for Reinhold was the stylings of designer Heinz Schulz-Neudamm. “I like posters that are intellectually challenging, not just pretty pictures,” she says.

Thinking of starting your own art collection? Design Miami CEO Jen Roberts has some tips

Design Miami, the world’s leading platform for collectable design, marked its 20th anniversary last year and has never been busier. It will hold an exhibition in Seoul in September and its fourth Paris edition in October, while a new Dubai show is planned for 2027. Monocle sat down with its CEO, Jen Roberts, to find out how purchasing habits are evolving and what advice she has for prospective buyers.

How does buying collectable design differ from acquiring an artwork?
I’m not sure that there’s really much of a difference. For the fairs, it’s simply a question of scale. Design Miami has a welcoming spirit that you might not encounter at one of the big art events. The best thing to do is to look at what appeals to you, then start asking questions.

What distinguishes the European and US markets?
There’s a deeper understanding of the history of design here in Paris but there’s more awe and delight in Miami. The majority of the show is contemporary design in the US show, whereas here it’s the haute couture of the design world and mostly historical.

Should people approach collectable design as an investment?
When I started out in the business decades ago, it was frowned upon to talk about collecting as an investment. Things have changed since then but you still have to buy a piece because you love it. Maybe it will retain its value or go up – but it might not.

Why is collectable design becoming increasingly popular among younger people today?
They want to express their unique ways of living and the easiest means of conveying that is with what they put in their homes. Also, during the coronavirus pandemic, everyone spent so much time at home and the design market boomed. The effect hasn’t gone away.

In what other ways have habits changed?
Designers are coming from regions that were not in the spotlight in the past. We did our first show in South Korea last year, a country that has an incredible history of craft, and there’s a lot of young talent there now. We’re seeing more designers and curators from the Middle East too.

Further reading:
What Design Miami’s Dubai debut means for the Gulf’s creative economy

Art advisor Yuki Terase on how to build a great collection in the digital age

“Asian collectors don’t play by the book,” says art adviser Yuki Terase. “They’re very eclectic.” Many of the younger generation, she adds, have lived in both the East and the West, just like she has, and so are shaped by their multicultural backgrounds. Born in Japan and raised in the UK, Terase worked for Morgan Stanley in Tokyo, then spent a decade at Sotheby’s. It was there that she pioneered celebrity auctions for fashion designer Nigo and K-pop star TOP, and went on to oversee record sales for Yoshitomo Nara and Yayoi Kusama in Hong Kong as the auction house’s head of Asian contemporary art.

Today she leads Art Intelligence Global (AIG), an art advisory firm that she co-founded with fellow Sotheby’s alumna Amy Cappellazzo. Based between New York and Hong Kong, they help clients to build their collections and navigate market shifts.

“The coronavirus pandemic was a time of speculation – collectors invested heavily in emerging artists,” says Terase. “Now they’re going the other way. They want artists with life experiences that they can connect with.” Value, she says, comes from narrative, history and provenance. Terase points to a resurgence in interest in ancient work, classical antiques and even dinosaur fossils. “People increasingly want artefacts that we can’t produce any more,” she says. “It’s an answer to AI.”

This focus on historical pieces, combined with rising demand from Asia, means that the supply for collectors is limited. But that’s what makes things so fascinating for Terase. “Even with all of the money in the world, you’re not guaranteed to be able to build the greatest collection,” she says. “It’s democratic and a lot of work. There are no short cuts.”

Antiquities collector James Perkins invites guests at Parnham Park to holiday among dinosaur fossils

The question of how one sources a megalodon doesn’t really cross James Perkins’ mind. “Someone says, ‘Oh, you need to talk to him – he does all of the museums in England and worked on the Harry Potter films,’ and one thing leads to another. You don’t just nip into the local Jaws shop and come out with a megalodon. It doesn’t happen overnight.”

Perkins is a co-founder of Fantazia, a UK-based music-events company and record label. Collecting runs in his family; his mother was an antiques dealer. At the age of 14, he spent his paper-round money on a bust of Apollo. Whether buying a stuffed giraffe or the remains of an 18-metre-long megalodon, he approaches every purchase with the same collecting logic. Now, Perkins is working on his biggest project to date: the restoration of Parnham Park, a Grade I-listed 16th-century manor house on England’s south coast.

In 2017 a fire tore through the building, burning for four days until the roof caved in and the floors buckled. The original stone frontage held, though the wisteria climbing the southern façade looks as though it might be the only thing keeping the wall upright. The place is spooky, otherworldly and magnificent.

Architect Thomas Heatherwick is among those working on Parnham Park’s restoration. The Perkins family already lives in part of the house, firmly installed amid the scaffolding and the dust. The walled garden restaurant, meanwhile, has become a destination for the area’s residents. The long-term plan includes outbuildings, a lake house and event spaces. A multi-conceptual hospitality destination is slowly rising from the rubble.

Perkins calls Parnham Park’s aesthetic – the tasselled chandeliers, feathery masks and four-poster beds of Wolf Hall proportions – “elegant decay”. His collection of plaster sculptures, spanning some 4,000 pieces, is a tribute to houses that no longer exist. “It’s rather like Sir John Soane’s Museum,” he says. It’s an apt comparison: Soane, a neo-classical architect, filled his London townhouse with salvaged items and curiosities, then left it as it was for posterity. Perkins is doing something similar, only louder and with dinosaurs.

Parnham Park is a short distance from Dorset’s Jurassic Coast, 153km of shoreline so rich in terms of geological history and fossils that it has Unesco World Heritage status. Palaeontologist Mary Anning roamed these cliffs in the early 19th century, pulling ichthyosaurs and plesiosaurs from the rock face. The fossilised remains of ammonites the size of dinner plates still emerge from the mud after rain. Perkins often discovers them in his garden. “We probably found 20 last week.”

At Parnham Park, three pterodactyls will soon hang from a ceiling, lit to throw shadows on the walls and set the mood at dinner parties. The resident triceratops is currently on loan for an exhibition. The megalodon is having its jaw reconstructed and its body finished in papier-mâché that has been aged to a formaldehyde yellow; it will be suspended in the great hall like a prehistoric blimp. “The problem with dinosaurs is that they’re quite large,” says Perkins. “Even in a big house, it isn’t easy to fit a T-rex.”

His ambition extends beyond the walls of the property. “I want to inspire people to collect things,” he says. “They don’t have to be valuable. I used to fish plaster casts out of skips.” Perkins sources his objects himself, travelling to fairs and meeting dealers across the globe. His vision for Parnham is something between a country house and a natural-history museum – a place where children come for educational stories during the day and their parents settle in for supper by candlelight at night. “I haven’t seen it done before,” he says.

Anthony Gallery founder Easy Otabor on his cross-genre approach to collecting artwork

For Easy Otabor, acquiring an artwork is often an extension of an existing relationship. Entering his flat in Chicago’s Fulton Market district, Monocle is greeted by the works of artists and designers with whom the gallerist and collector has collaborated or built friendships over the years. Near his dining table, for example, is a delicate painting with rough-hewn edges by Chicagoan Dabin Ahn, nestled between a Tom Sachs stereo and a text-based piece by Nigerian artist Toyin Ojih Odutola.

“That’s usually how I think of my collection,” he says. “Are these by good people? Would I enjoy having dinner or working with them?” A piece might remind Otabor of his early support of a now-lauded artist or a pivotal moment in a friend’s career.

Otabor’s eclectic sensibilities are as evident in his collecting as they are in his own work, which spans fashion, music, design and art. He studied business at university and later fashion merchandising but it was working as a buyer under US designer Virgil Abloh and streetwear pioneer Don C that launched his career. In 2019, Otabor returned to his hometown of Chicago from Los Angeles and founded Anthony Gallery, where he pairs artists who typically wouldn’t show together, such as Andrew J Park and Sydnie Jimenez, or Barbara Kruger and Tony Matelli. “Building bridges” is how Otabor describes his curation; his approach is defined by a diversity of mediums, styles and subject matter. “I don’t want to be boxed in,” he adds.

Otabor doesn’t distinguish between art and design, and collecting is something that he has always done (he parted with a big trainer collection before shifting to art). A focal point of his living space is a custom Ensemble Dune Modular Sofa by Paulin Paulin Paulin that blankets the room in a roiling sea of royal purple. Every 18 months or so, he shuffles the pieces. “I love conversation starters,” he says. One of the joys of collecting, he finds, is discovering new ways of seeing objects through the eyes of friends.

Anthony Gallery, which has outposts in Chicago and Amsterdam, will soon expand to Tokyo. Otabor’s personal collection, meanwhile, will undoubtedly reflect his growing reach. He lives by the oft-repeated mantra that you should only buy what you love and adds, “How does it make you feel to wake up to? No matter where I am or what home it goes into, it has to be something that makes me feel good.”