The story behind Old Hong Kong Lights
When people ask me how Old Hong Kong Lights began, I often start with a confession: I didn't plan to run a vintage business. I was just a French woman who fell in love with old things.
My name is Alix. Eight years ago — eight years and counting — I moved to Hong Kong pregnant with my first child, and a big curiosity. Back then, my interior style was very European: clean lines, French antiques, a touch of rustic charm. But wandering through Sham Shui Po, Tai Po, Sheung Wan, old tenement buildings, and forgotten storage rooms, I kept finding treasures I couldn't leave behind. A faded porcelain vase with hand-painted peonies. Lunar New Year bulbs vessels from the 1960s. A tall carved wooden statue no one wanted anymore.
I bought them for myself. Poured many vessels into candles. More candles in various shapes and sizes. Then friends asked where I found them. Then friends of friends started asking.
That's how Old Hong Kong Lights was born — not from a business plan, but from a genuine obsession with objects that carry stories. The name stuck, even as my collection grew far beyond candles to include vases, curios, furniture, and everyday antique life pieces.
The Reality Behind the Romance
For a long time, "the studio" was my living room. Every vase I cleaned sat on my dining table, next to my kids' homework. Every wooden chest I sourced lived in a corner of my bedroom. It was chaotic, beautiful, and honestly, unsustainable.
Today, things have changed — and also stayed the same.
I now have four children. Yes, four. Life is louder, messier, and fuller than I ever imagined. And I now have a studio in Kwun Tong — a gritty, industrial pocket of Hong Kong that feels like a secret. The building is old, the lift is slow, and the views are of concrete and neon. But inside those four walls, I curate, restore, and store every single piece you see on our website.
That studio is where all candles are poured, old vases get carefully cleaned, where tarnished brass is polished (but not too much — patina matters), where I check each ceramic for cracks and each statue for stability. It's also where my kids sometimes draw on the floor while I work, because motherhood and entrepreneurship don't wait for perfect timing.
Home in Clearwater Bay
Away from the studio, my family lives in Clearwater Bay. It's a beautiful corner of Hong Kong, surrounded by green hills, ocean views, and the kind of quiet you forget exists in this city. Our home is filled with pieces I've collected over the years — some from the shop, some just for us. A blue-and-white ginger jar on the windowsill. A small soapstone carving on the tea table. A pair of embroidered silk pillows faded by the sun.
The morning light pours through the windows, and the jungle outside feels a world away from the neon of Kwun Tong. That balance — the gritty studio and the peaceful home — is everything to me. It reminds me why I collect: not to fill a warehouse, but to bring beauty, history, and warmth into real lives.
What I've Learned About Collecting (and Living)
Running Old Hong Kong Lights has taught me that a home should never feel like a showroom. It should feel lived in. The best spaces have a mix of eras, textures, and memories. A cracked ceramic bowl on a sleek coffee table. A silk pillow faded by the sun. A carved wooden statue that watches over the dinner table while your family eats.
I collect for myself first, then for you. If I wouldn't put it in my own home — with four kids running through it, with the dust of a busy house settling on the windowsill — I won't sell it.
So when you buy from Old Hong Kong Lights, you're not just getting a vintage vase or a beautiful candle. You're getting a piece of Hong Kong, a piece of my journey, and a piece of a slower, more intentional way of living.
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Come See the Magic
I'd love for you to visit the Kwun Tong studio. Not because it's polished (it isn't), but because you'll see where the real work happens. Among the stacked wooden chests and hanging curios, you might even meet one of my children colouring in a corner.
Old Hong Kong Lights isn't a brand to me. It's a way of keeping beautiful things alive — and sharing that joy with you.
Thank you for being part of the story.
— Alix
Founder, Old Hong Kong Lights