On craft, memory, and why the home was always meant to be a refuge
When I launched Luz Editions, I was not following a trend. I was following a deep conviction that a home should feel like a refuge, and that the objects inside it should earn their place through warmth, memory, and honesty rather than novelty.
At the time, people told me my ceramic pendant lights were too singular. Too artisanal. Too rooted in the past. The market was leaning toward clean lines and cold perfection. I was making handmade glazed ceramic pendant lights inspired by early 20th century French kitchens, by Art Deco architecture, by the kind of objects you find in a grandmother's house and never want to leave behind.
I kept going anyway. Not because I was brave but because life has taught me to trust my instincts and believe in myself. No one should start a brand or a project without doing so.
What I always believed about interiors
Long before anyone was talking about Grandma Chic or the Sentimentalism movement or the return of the English country cottage aesthetic, I held certain convictions about how a home should feel.
Comfort before style, memory before trend. Objects that tell a story rather than objects that make a statement.
I believe in things that age well: glazed ceramic that captures light differently as the years pass, brass fittings that develop a patina, a twisted cord that softens with use. I believe in imperfection as a mark of authenticity, in the trace of a hand and a kiln as something worth preserving. I believe that the most beautiful interiors are not the ones that look designed, but the ones that look lived in.
This is the kind of aesthetic I’ve always been drawn to.
Three movements, one shared instinct
In 2026, three distinct currents have emerged in interior design that, together, describe something larger than a trend. They describe a shift in how people want to live.
The first is what some are callingThe Sentimentalism: a return to objects built around memory and natural materials. Objects meant to be used every day, carried from one home to another, inherited and reused. Their beauty comes from the way they live with you over time. In lighting terms, this translates into pendant lights that feel found rather than purchased. A ceramic shade that carries the warmth of the kiln. A fitting that looks as if it has always been there.
A telling sign of this cultural moment: Pamela Anderson recently launched The Sentimentalist with Olive Ateliers, a collection drawn directly from her family home, her grandmother's objects, and a life built around things meant to be lived with rather than displayed.
The second is Grandma Chic: the return of patinated materials, vintage finds, crockery collections, and warm layered interiors that feel gathered rather than curated. At its heart, this movement is about surrounding yourself with objects that feel familiar. Objects that carry sentiment rather than status. The ceramic pendant above the kitchen table with a crackled glaze finish. The handmade light fixture that came from an artisan's workshop and fits as if it was always meant to be there.
This is precisely where artisanal ceramic pendant lights find their most natural home. They are not as a design statement but they have a presence that makes a room feel more complete, just as if they had always been there.
The third is the English Country Cottage: maximalism over minimalism, comfort over spectacle. Antiques are mixed with handmade pieces and nature drawn indoors.
Lighting—and especially its design, often inspired by French farmhouses—contributes to the atmosphere rather than merely providing illumination. In this aesthetic, a pendant light is never neutral. It is part of the story the room tells: its shape, its glaze, its warmth, everything matters. By choosing a handcrafted ceramic pendant, you are choosing the character of yesterday combined with the beauty of today.
What unites these three movements is not aesthetics. It is intention. They are all, in different ways, a rejection of the over-designed and the disposable and a return to objects that justify their presence through feeling rather than trends.
Where Luz Editions has always lived
Each Luz Editions pendant light is handmade in Portugal by skilled artisans, glazed by hand and fired in a traditional kiln. Made to order, in limited series, they are the kind of objects these three movements were built around: imperfect, warm, and built to last.
Viana — available in both earthenware and porcelain — carries radial Art Deco lines that echo the sun motif found throughout early 20th century decorative arts. A ceramic pendant light that belongs equally in a restored family home, a boutique hotel, and a contemporary kitchen. Its sculptural presence makes it one of the most versatile handmade pendant lights in the collection, available in two sizes for different spaces and intentions.
Beja is a handmade ceramic pendant light with a crackled white enamel finish that suggests age and history, as if it were found rather than made. The kind of piece the Grandma Chic movement was built around. Its Art Nouveau-inspired silhouette brings soul and character to kitchens, dining rooms, and hospitality spaces that want authenticity without nostalgia becoming costume.
Maia reinterprets the opaline glass pendants of early French kitchens in glazed ceramic: warm, poetic, immediately familiar. Its scalloped edge and rich coloured glazes, including the new cognac finish, make it one of the most distinctive ceramic kitchen pendant lights available today. It works beautifully above a kitchen island, a dining table, or in a series of two or three across a long space.
Tomar, understated and honest, is a glazed ceramic pendant light at the crossroads of retro and minimalism. It’s the kind of light fixture that complements a decor without overwhelming it. Inspired by early 20th century French workshop lighting, it brings quiet warmth to contemporary interiors alone or in a series above a kitchen counter, a restaurant setting, or a bedside.
On being ahead without knowing it
I did not set out to anticipate anything. I set out to make things I believed in, for homes I understood. To be honest, I was a bit tired of glass pendant lights (impossible or too fragile to clean) as well as those made of straw, wicker, cane, etc (real dust magnets).
But looking at where interior design has arrived in 2026 (at the hunger for craft, memory, warmth, and the analog) I recognize something I have been feeling and making all along.
My ceramic pendant lights have the advantage of showcasing their timeless design. Glazed ceramic cleans easily and ages beautifully. These handcrafted light fixtures are made to order so that you make a deliberate purchase, not an impulse buy. They are intended for interiors that refuse to be disposable.
A home is not a backdrop. It is a living record of who you are, what you have loved, and what you want to carry forward. The objects inside it should reflect that. Not the season's palette, not the algorithm's suggestion, but something deeper and more personal.
And it turns out, the world was always going to arrive here eventually.
First Photography : House of the designer Emily Adams Bode Aujla and her husband, Aaron Aujla, Photography by Tyler Mitchell for The World of Interiors
Second Photography: Anne Spencer’s garden writing retreat Photography by John Mark Hall for The World of Interiors
Kitchens Photographs: Left: Paul Massey for Rita Koning / Right: Yuki Sugiura for Mathilda Goad Couple portrait by C hristopher Sturman / Kendall Jenner portrait by Franck Frances - Both for ARCHI DIGEST
Cottage pictures courtesy of INIGO HOUSE
Portrait and pendant lights - Photographs by Lena Silva
