When my parents married in 1952, they bought their furniture from an antique shop by an Armenian master in Galata-Kuledibi. These French-style tables, chairs, libraries, armchairs were always in our lives as long as I could remember. On a Sunday in my house, sixty years ago, I remember my father renewing the gilt embroidery on our window display with a fine paintbrush. In this way, he would spend a quiet Sunday enjoying the pleasure of smoking and whistling in his casual outfit. We watched our father while he was renewing the embroideries on a cold day in Istanbul and felt happy and safe. Every five to six years, the chairs and armchairs in our house were covered with new fabric again. Our mother would buy stylish fabrics, the upholsterer in our neighbourhood would come home and take our stuff to her shop. We children eagerly waited for our seats to return to this empty house. Uncle Stelyo, a furniture polishing master, used to polish our furniture every summer. He would pour the polishing solution into a resin buffer, wrap the cotton in a thin cloth and do his job with pleasure. I think the tea, coffee and food that my mother serves throughout the day is one of the reasons why this polishing takes so long. We had enjoyed knowing that! These moments made us a family, we all shared a common enthusiasm for our home. Now I understand that our family used such events to teach us a philosophy of life. They wanted us to be people who were not consuming but producing. For instance, First in my grandfather’s office, then in my father’s office, and now a small Iranian carpet in my house reflects these shared memories. Our memories live in these inherited furniture and decoration items. I have been watching decorative and architectural programs on TV for years. I’m also interested in the minimalism movement. It is too late for me to accept this minimalist tendency in which the artistic value of objects and environments increases when the minimalised details are produced by the highest quality. Because I grew up in a house full of handmade carpets adorned with ornate furniture. The furniture remained unchanged until my family died and the house closed. When I bought the historical buildings of Faik Paşa Suites 15 years ago, I acted with the same feelings. I remembered my grandfather who was the engineer of the Tennis Apartment Block which is only 5 minutes walk away from Faik Pasha Suites Buildings. This Cihangir building; which was built in the 1940s and my mother who spent her childhood in this apartment has been my inspiration sources while I was designing Faik Pasha Suites. I dream of my grandfather, my mother and my aunt as they walked in front of the Faik Pasha 41 building at 40ies. Francesco Della Suda, the grandson of Faik Pasha; this elegant Istanbul gentleman who took piano lessons from F. Liszt is one of the people I was inspired to decorate my hotel with. Francesco Della Suda or my mother or grandfather was walking in front of our buildings, through Faik Pasha Street to Istiklal Street, maybe 90 years ago. I envy these elegant, art nouveau style period. I collected all the furniture I used to decorate the Faik Pasha Hotel from antique dealers in Istanbul and this work lasted two years. I wanted the curtains to be lace. Because in the wind of a spring morning, a sweet breeze enters through the window, in the romantic atmosphere I have created, I imagine a guest happy and peaceful.