‘In my early years growing up in Jeddah, our lives were focused inward: everything happened at home. I grew up surrounded by beautiful objects and colors, and the belief that a space could transport you somewhere else. My mother collected 18th-century furniture and Middle-eastern art. She also introduced us, from a very young age, to flea markets and antique shops in Paris and London. Because there were no museums around, much of my visual world was internal – perhaps that is where my affinity with Surrealism comes from.

‘Later, my studies at Chelsea College of Arts in London taught me to look differently. For example, one day, I remember I had spent a considerable amount of time perfecting an oil still life; the teacher examined the work and told me I had to see beyond it, then she proceeded to tear the canvas in two and reassemble it as a collage. At first, I was horrified, but it became a vital lesson: beauty sometimes lies in tension, rupture, and the unexpected. In my interior designs, as in my collection, I instinctively bring together different periods and languages. For me, an interior is a form of self-portrait.

‘My passion for collecting came about through my marriage. Our first home in London brought together two worlds: my husband’s love of art and my passion for decor. Over time, the collection became almost autobiographical. I don’t remember the first work we chose. Tom Wesselmann was among the artists we looked at very early on. At the time, we couldn’t afford to acquire a work by him; we did so much later, through his foundation. A collection never truly begins or ends with its owners: we live with these works, some of which belonged to our parents, and one day, they will pass to our children. We are only their custodians, adding our own chapter to their story.

‘To acquire a work, I first need to feel something physically, for a dialogue to begin, either with me, with another work, or a room in the house. Does it contain enough mystery for me to still want to look at it in several years’ time? I like tension. My collection is defined more by spirit than by periods: I am drawn to Arte Povera, Surrealism, and Minimalism. I am not looking to own several works by the same artist; I prefer to let contradictory voices coexist. When I acquire a new piece, I ask myself what kind of conversation it will open up within the collection.

‘Recently, I was struck by Jordan Wolfson’s work at David Zwirner. My discoveries have also taken me from Marlene Dumas to Lucas Arruda, and to a painting by Fernand Léger. Thinking of really remarkable works, James Turrell’s stand out, and hearing him speak about light as a material changed the way I experience his work. Rebecca Salsbury James painted under glass, keeping the finished image in mind while building it in reverse. What fascinates me is that moment when you understand how the artist perceives things, and suddenly you begin to see differently yourself.

‘Our way of collecting has evolved over time. At the beginning, we wanted to see and discover everything. We were very lucky, but we also made mistakes by moving too quickly. Today, we approach things with a little more calm. We first ask ourselves about the emotional, intellectual, or historical meaning of a work. For me, it is less about acquiring and more about composing an ensemble that has been evolving for more than 25 years.

‘I am also passionate about design. House of Today, the residency program [for designers] I founded in 2012, grew out of what I saw while living in Lebanon. There I encountered extraordinary creative talent and understood how necessary it was to support individual voices rather than a single imposed aesthetic. Since moving to Europe, I have focused more on promoting these designers on the international stage through fairs and exhibitions. I am proud of my heritage and of the creative energy of the Middle East.

‘I also founded 13BC in 2018: a collection of small evening bags conceived as collectible objects, each adorned with an enamel decoration. The entrepreneur in me lives on: 20 years in business taught me how to translate an idea into something that can be understood and valued.

‘“Having an eye” is partly a matter of instinct: sensing that something is a little too perfect and needs disrupting. But it is also something that can be cultivated, through travel and encounters with different cultures. And the future? I never begin a project by thinking about posterity. Legacy is not about leaving behind something fixed, but about passing on enough freedom for others to transform it in their own way.’