There’s always that moment, when you’re traveling, where you stop in front of an object and think: “This is coming home with me.” Sometimes it’s a handmade mug, sometimes a bowl you’ve seen a hundred times in local markets, and sometimes it’s something completely unexpected—like a miniature toy chair that made you smile for no clear reason.

It happens because when we travel, we’re different: more open, more receptive, more in tune with what strikes us. And in that moment, that object feels just right. Magical, even.

Then you come home, unpack with excitement… and don’t know where to put it. It doesn’t match anything. You like it, but it clashes. So begins that silent tug-of-war between the object and your home: you try it on the mantel, then the shelf, then the nightstand. But it never quite fits in.

Maybe it’s happened to you. Maybe it happens more often than we think. Because a souvenir isn’t just an object—it’s an idea, a feeling, a frozen moment. The problem is, we rarely think about how it will live in our spaces once we’re back.

But some make it. The ones that come home and quietly say, “Don’t worry, I know where I belong.” They have a shape, a color, a material that resonates with who you are. And they become part of your daily landscape with surprising ease. Those are the right souvenirs. The ones that stay.
Choosing them is an art. You don’t need a scientific method, but perhaps a little training of the eye. The kind that lets you feel, instinctively, whether you’re buying something that reflects you—or just a memory to hang on a wall.

In our work, we see it every day: a well-chosen object can truly change the energy of a room. And even if it comes from far away, if chosen with care, it will never feel out of place.

So next time you’re traveling and holding that object in your hand, just ask yourself: “Am I buying this only because I’m on vacation—or will it still speak to me once I’m home?”

If the answer is the latter, well… don’t leave it behind.