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In 2019, Kuala Lumpur-based designer Aina, while sorting through her grandmother's "memory chest," discovered a stack of beaded sarongs and pewter tea sets from the Baba Nyonya tradition. These coconut-scented fabrics had once wrapped her in her childhood Hari Raya clothes; the intricately carved pewter set bore witness to three generations of her family's reunion dinners. At that moment, she suddenly realized: a Malaysian home is never merely a display of a single culture, but a "living museum" where diverse traditions intertwine.
We traversed Malaysian towns and rainforests in search of "materials with warmth": collaborating with Baba carpenters in Penang to create furniture from century-old rubberwood, its grain whispering tales of cicadas in the village; visiting Nyonya workshops in Malacca to learn how to make cushions using the "sashiko" embroidery technique, each stitch bearing the story of Straits trade; and even developing the "Rainforest Symbiosis" series, weaving discarded coconut fiber and rattan into lampshades, creating light and shadow effects reminiscent of the dappled shadows of a tropical rainforest.
These objects, without deliberate embellishment of symbols, hold the secrets of Malaysian life: a rubberwood sideboard with drawers, its hidden compartment holding a grandmother's handwritten nasi lemak recipe; a modular rattan coffee table that unfolds to hold Hari Raya ketupat (coconut rice dumplings) and Chinese New Year cakes; even the scented candles are imbued with the aroma of "Kuala Lumpur at dusk"—the spiciness of nutmeg mingled with the sweetness of pandan leaves, so enticing that one can almost hear the hawkers' cries from the market when they are lit. We are not selling commodities, but rather "a path to harmony in Nanyang life"—the exquisite presentation of kuih lapis (layered cake) on a Nyonya porcelain plate from a Malay neighbor, the aroma of bak kut teh cooked in an Indian copper pot by a Chinese grandmother, and the ability for every family in a diverse society to find a sense of cultural belonging through a piece of furniture.
Today, from beachfront villas in Kota Kinabalu to converted longhouses in Kuching, the true home is not found in expensive imported furniture, but in the "tacit understanding that comes with use"—such as the honey-colored rubberwood furniture that deepens with age, the coconut leaf shadows cast on the walls by rattan lampshades, and the gentle, rainbow-like glow of oil lamps reflected through Peranakan porcelain bottles on every Deepavali night.