Inside Leia Sfez’s World of Beautiful Objects and Timeless Style

For Leia Sfez, the French artistic director and co-founder of The Oblist, objects have always extended beyond function into something more atmospheric and psychological. Raised in Paris and immersed in fashion’s creative ecosystem for nearly two decades, she developed an intuitive understanding of proportion, texture, and the power of detail. Today, that same sensibility informs both her interiors and personal style, where collectible design merges effortlessly with flea-market finds and fine jewelry, worn with lived-in ease. 

Founded in 2023 by Leia and her husband, Gary Sfez, The Oblist has quickly become one of the design world’s most discerning platforms for collectible objects, contemporary craft, and emerging voices. More than a marketplace, it functions as a living editorial universe, guided by instinct, emotion, and a sensitivity to form. Bringing together over 500 artists, designers, and independent studios from around the world, The Oblist has cultivated a following among collectors, architects, and culturally attuned clients drawn to its singular dialogue between contemporary design and material experimentation. Pieces by talents like Sheyang Li, Zbeul Studio, and Astrid Houssin exist alongside carefully sourced vintage works. Upcoming collaborations with figures like Sophie Dries further deepen the platform’s growing dialogue with architecture and contemporary culture. 

At the center of The Oblist is the complementary creative language shared by Leia and Gary Sfez—a culture-rich couple, now living in Madrid. Together, they have built a platform that reflects both instinct and structure: Leia bringing a visually trained eye shaped by photography, fashion, and art direction, while Gary contributes a deep understanding of branding, narrative, and cultural visibility. Their curatorial approach privileges tension over perfection—rawness beside refinement, heritage alongside experimentation, sculptural rigor softened by intimacy. In many ways, The Oblist mirrors the way the pair live themselves: thoughtfully layered, emotionally driven, and resistant to anything that feels overly resolved.

“I’m never interested in things feeling too perfect or too resolved,” she told Whitewall. “The combinations I love most are often the ones that seem accidental at first but are actually built around very precise tension.” That philosophy extends to her affinity for Bvlgari, whose bold sensuality and sculptural use of color have long captivated her imagination. Drawn to the Roman maison’s instinctive confidence and willingness to reinterpret heritage through contemporary form, Leia sees a shared language between Bvlgari’s expressive jewelry and The Oblist’s curatorial vision.

Recently, Sfez traveled to New York to meet with Whitewall at Carpenters Workshop Gallery, wearing a selection of Bvlgari creations that echo her own approach to objects—pieces that are architectural yet intimate, emotionally charged yet enduring. There, she spoke about design, instinct, partnership, and the evolving meaning of luxury today.

The Origin Story of The Oblist

WHITEWALL: Leia, you were born and raised in Paris and created The Oblist there, too. How has the city—its cultural dynamism and decorative history—shaped your eye? Which other cities do you feel you’re in constant conversation with?

LEIA SFEZ: I was born and raised in Paris, and I think it shaped my eye in a way that is almost unconscious. It’s a city that can feel both surreal and quietly unforgiving. Deeply elegant, but never passive. There’s a constant tension between beauty and expectation, between restraint and ambition. You grow up learning to notice things without being taught. Proportions, light, the way a space holds itself. It creates a kind of internal discipline, a way of seeing that stays with you. I also feel in constant conversation with Milan. There’s an intellectual clarity in the way design is approached, a deep respect for craftsmanship, combined with the confidence to reinterpret it. It’s a place where heritage doesn’t feel static, but continuously reactivated.

There’s a constant tension between beauty and expectation, between restraint and ambition.

—Leia Sfez

WW: Having started in photography, how does that visual training still inform the way you see proportion, composition, and space today?

LS: Photography taught me how to look before it taught me how to create. It trained my eye to understand balance, tension, and the importance of what you leave out. That way of seeing never really goes away. I still think in terms of proportion and rhythm. What feels right, what feels slightly off in an interesting way. Sometimes it’s actually the imbalance or the unexpected detail that gives a space its personality.

WW: You’ve moved fluidly between fashion, photography, and now collectible design with The Oblist. How has your understanding of materials, color, and form evolved across those worlds?

LS: For me, those worlds were never separate. They’ve always coexisted. Moving between them felt very natural, because each one shifted the way I approached the next. Fashion, especially those 10 years, sharpened something else entirely. It taught me how to build an identity, how to create an image that speaks beyond its own field. It made me think about how The Oblist could exist not just within design, but within a broader cultural landscape. Something that resonates beyond a purely collector audience. In the end, it’s all part of the same language. I don’t move from one discipline to another; I layer them. That’s what shapes how I see, and ultimately, what I choose to bring into the world.

I don’t move from one discipline to another; I layer them.

—Leia Sfez

Leia Sfez’s Relationship with Bvlgari

WW: When did Bvlgari first enter your universe? Do you remember a specific piece that sparked your imagination?

LS: I remember the feeling. Bvlgari always stood out to me for its boldness. There was nothing quiet about it. The colors, the scale, the confidence… it felt almost sculptural. I’ve always loved objects that fully assume themselves, pieces that don’t try to blend in or soften their identity. And Bvlgari has that very distinctive way of embracing excess, sensuality, and form with complete confidence, which I’ve always found incredibly compelling.

WW: There is a shared language between what Bvlgari does with color, form, and Roman heritage, and what you do curatorially. What do you feel you and the maison have in common?

LS: I think it’s a shared sense of confidence. Bvlgari never tries to soften its identity. It embraces color, scale, sensuality, and form very instinctively, and I’ve always admired that freedom. I also relate to the way the maison approaches heritage. Not as something untouchable or frozen in time, but as something living that can constantly be reinterpreted. 

WW: The Tubogas technique is a feat of Roman goldsmithing, supple, architectural, almost industrial in its precision, yet forming to the body. How does wearing it feel different to you than more conventional jewelry?

LS: Most jewelry sits on the body. This one moves with it. It adapts almost instinctively, while still keeping a very strong sense of structure. There’s a real balance in that tension between precision and ease—almost a kind of softened brutalism, where the construction remains visible, but never rigid.

Most jewelry sits on the body. This one moves with it.

—Leia Sfez

WW: The “Vimini” line draws on weaving, a gesture that feels almost Mediterranean in its intimacy, translated into gold. How do objects that carry that kind of quiet cultural reference resonate with you personally?

LS: I’m very sensitive to objects that carry that kind of cultural memory, not in a nostalgic way, but almost physically. Sometimes a material, a texture, or a gesture feels strangely familiar before you even understand why. What I love about pieces like that is their ability to feel both humble and sophisticated at the same time. Something deeply rooted in everyday life or tradition, yet translated into a form that suddenly feels very elevated and contemporary.

Contrasts as Perfect Combinations

WW: In your home and your wardrobe, you are known for mixing eras, a collection piece next to a flea-market find, fine jewelry worn with denim. What makes that kind of dialogue compelling for you?

LS: Mixing eras always makes things feel more alive to me. When you place a collectible piece next to something more raw or unexpected, it creates contrast, but also a kind of depth you don’t get otherwise. It immediately feels more personal, less constructed. 

I’m never interested in things feeling too perfect or too resolved. The combinations I love most are often the ones that seem accidental at first, but are actually built around very precise tension.

Mixing eras always makes things feel more alive to me.

—Leia Sfez

WW: The Oblist began as an intuition about what collectors and design lovers were missing online. What was the original impulse, and how has that vision evolved since you launched it with your husband and partner Gary?

LS: It began with frustration, honestly. We kept discovering extraordinary artists and objects, yet there was no environment where everything felt cohesive. The experience often felt fragmented, sometimes even impersonal. We wanted to create something that felt more alive. A space where objects could coexist instinctively, where an emerging designer could exist alongside a more established name without hierarchy, simply because there was a shared sensibility between them. From the beginning, that dialogue between generations became essential to us.

People are no longer looking to simply accumulate objects, but to live with pieces that genuinely reflect who they are. There’s a growing desire for meaning, for emotion, for discoveries that feel personal rather than prescribed. That shift deeply shaped the way we built The Oblist.

In the beginning, what we were doing felt genuinely risky. The Oblist may seem obvious today, but at the time, it didn’t really exist in that form. We were putting our taste, our eye, and our sensibility out into the world without knowing how it would be received. There was a real fear of being misunderstood. What’s been most moving over time is realizing that this instinct ended up resonating with far more people than we ever expected. We launched with around 130 artists, and today represent more than 500 globally, but the intention behind it remains exactly the same: creating a space built around discovery, curiosity, and an emotional connection to objects and craftsmanship.

Behind the Scenes of The Oblist

WW: Speaking of The Oblist, we’d love to hear from you, Gary. You are partners in life and co-founders of The Oblist with Leia. What does that creative dialogue look like day-to-day? 

GARY SFEZ: It’s a constant exchange. Sometimes very fluid, sometimes more confrontational, but always constructive. We don’t think the same way at all, and that’s precisely what makes it work. I naturally approach things through instinct, sensitivity, and image, while Leia brings structure, logic, and long-term vision. Day to day, it’s endless conversations about artists, positioning, ideas, or details that may seem minor but ultimately shape the direction of The Oblist. There’s no real separation between life and work anymore, but strangely, it never feels heavy. The project became part of our way of living together. We’re deeply passionate, and that passion becomes a form of structure in itself. It’s what allows The Oblist to remain instinctive, while still being built with precision.

There’s no real separation between life and work anymore…

—Gary Sfez

WW: How do your instincts diverge or converge when you’re selecting a piece or a new designer?

LS: In terms of curation, I naturally lead that part of the process, while he focuses more on the technical, marketing, and management side of the business. Our roles are quite distinct, but the dialogue between us never really stops, and that’s what keeps the process interesting.

We challenge each other a lot. I can become completely obsessed with a piece he doesn’t immediately understand, and honestly, I’ll still bring the artist in sometimes because that friction is often where things become interesting. I would actually hate for someone to tell me they love everything on The Oblist. The best reactions are always the strongest ones: “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” or even, “I really don’t like it.” That tension creates conversation, and conversation is what makes curation alive.

When we both immediately agree on something, though, it’s usually a very strong sign. It means the piece has both instinct and substance, emotion and clarity.

WW: Gary, your curation favors a particular tension between historical craft and contemporary voice, between the deeply personal and the universally desirable. How do you discover the designers and makers you feature, and what are you seeing right now that excites you?

GS: It’s a mix of instinct and constant exploration. We discover designers in many different ways: through travel, word-of-mouth, artists reaching out, and often through completely unexpected connections. There’s something very human about that process. We follow what stays with us, rather than what’s already visible everywhere. From the beginning, we’ve always been interested in contrast. Heritage next to experimentation, sculptural pieces beside something much more raw or instinctive. We’ve never wanted The Oblist to feel too polished or too predictable. The most interesting interiors, and the most interesting people, honestly, are usually built around tension and personality. What excites us right now is seeing designers move away from perfection. There’s a new generation creating pieces that feel freer, more emotional, sometimes even slightly unresolved. Objects with irregular surfaces, unexpected proportions, strange materials—things that create a reaction rather than simply looking beautiful. That’s where design starts to feel alive again.

Recent Inspiring Discoveries

WW: Gary, any recent finds you’re excited about?

GS: We recently discovered the work of a young Ukrainian designer, Zemna, whose pieces we now feature on The Oblist, and we were genuinely excited the first time we saw them. There was one piece in particular, treated in pewter, that completely caught our attention. It had something very raw and immediate about it, a kind of quiet intensity that stayed with us straight away. That feeling is probably what we love most about what we do. Today it’s this piece; tomorrow it will be another. We genuinely enjoy discovering and bringing in the things we connect with most, every single day. It never comes from a calculated approach, but rather from emotion, curiosity, and that instinctive connection you can’t always explain.

WW: What’s next for you personally, Leia, and for The Oblist?

LS: We want to keep refining our eye and protecting the curiosity that led us to create The Oblist in the first place. We still want to feel surprised, challenged, and genuinely moved by the artists and objects we discover. At the same time, we’re also trying to find a better balance. We have three children, and building a company while raising a family is incredibly fulfilling, but also constantly challenging. Learning how to protect moments of life within all of this has become very important to us. For The Oblist, the ambition is to continue building something that feels both global and deeply personal at the same time. We want to keep expanding our universe through new artists, collaborations, and physical experiences, while staying very faithful to the instinct, curiosity, and freedom that existed from the very beginning.

For The Oblist, the ambition is to continue building something that feels both global and deeply personal at the same time.

—Leia Sfez

Reconnecting with the Tactile

WW: Gary, what’s something in design right now that feels exciting to you, but still under the radar?

GS: People are reconnecting with material in a much more instinctive way than before. We’re very interested in designers working with oxidized metals, pewter, untreated woods, or surfaces that reveal age and transformation rather than trying to conceal them. There’s something very reassuring about objects that aren’t trying to look perfect. They feel more grounded, more sincere. Right now, we’re very attracted to pieces with texture, depth, and signs of life in them.

WW: Leia, what do you envision the future of luxury to be?

LS: The future of luxury is knowing that something was made slowly, shaped by human hands, and created with enough care to outlive us. More and more, we feel that people are searching for permanence in a world that moves too fast. A piece that ages with you, that keeps traces of life, that can eventually be passed down without losing its meaning. To us, luxury is becoming far more emotional than aspirational. It’s about living with fewer things, but feeling genuinely attached to them.