The Milan Home Transformed by a Legendary Textile House

When Caterina Fabrizio began searching for a new home in Milan, she was determined to choose simplicity. Years earlier she had completed a demanding renovation of her family residence on Lake Como, and now, moving to the city with her two young sons, she wanted a space that felt effortless. The ground floor flat of a neoclassical villa from the early twentieth century immediately caught her attention. Its generous height and sweeping windows had a presence that felt rare in the center of Milan. The rooms were modest and the kitchen was narrow, but the walled garden, hidden from the city and large enough for her sons to play freely, made the decision clear the apartment had potential and the garden made it irresistible.

Transformations were kept to a minimum. The laminate floors from the nineteen sixties were removed to reveal a mosaic parquet that captured the light. The wide arched doorways were refreshed, the delicate geometric motifs on the ceiling were restored, and the palette was softened. Once the structure felt clean, the defining element remained the choice of fabrics, an area where Fabrizio was uniquely positioned to decide with confidence.

Dedar, the textile house founded in 1976 by her parents Nicola and Elda, has long been associated with opulent materials and a precise understanding of color, texture, and atmosphere. Its textiles appear in some of the most refined interiors, from the jacquard that hangs in Lee Broom’s residence in New York to the printed satin that lines the walls of the Palazzo Fendi designed by Dimorestudio. Luca Guadagnino chose Dedar fabrics for the world of his film Call Me By Your Name, setting a tone of Italian sophistication that became its own cultural reference. Fabrizio sees this as part of a broader appreciation for a distinct Milanese sensibility, one that values subtlety, depth, and beauty rooted in craft.

Settled into her petrol blue velvet sofa, she embodies that sensibility. Her style is considered yet instinctive, her manner warm and open, and her understanding of design sharpened by a lifetime within the world of textiles. The apartment around her reflects this clarity. In the dining room, a sculptural table by Gabriella Crespi is paired with simple chairs from IKEA and illuminated by a pendant by Archimede Seguso. A bookshelf by Axel Kufus stands nearby. The mix is deliberate.

Fabrizio grew up between Milan and the Lake Como region, close to the textile mills that shaped her parents’ work. In the early nineteen nineties, Dedar established itself as an artisan company willing to experiment at a time when traditional manufacturers preferred to preserve convention. Blending silk with technical fibers created fabrics that maintained their beauty yet resisted sunlight, opening new possibilities for designers. Fabrizio joined the company in 1997, bringing a contemporary rhythm to its evolution. Collaborations with Hermes, Cassina, and prominent architects followed, reinforcing Dedar’s position within international design culture.

Yet her relationship to the brand remains profoundly personal. She approaches each new collection as an extension of lived experience, translating memories, atmospheres, and intuitions into material form. Her home follows that same instinct. Her brother Raffaele, who co leads the company, describes it as a place of experimentation, a space she dresses with the same freedom and curiosity she brings to textiles.

The house shifts with the seasons. When Italians perform the cambio dell armadio, exchanging summer wardrobes for winter ones, Fabrizio reinterprets the rooms around her. The furniture stays in place but the fabrics and carpets transform. In autumn, an Indian dhurrie from the nineteen thirties in orange and blue takes its place beside violet silk velvet curtains. Wool velvet slipcovers warm the sofas, while a wrought iron daybed is upholstered in a jacquard inspired by Tibetan carpets. Each element is selected for a specific moment in time, then replaced when the mood changes.

Her taste in furniture leans toward restrained forms from the nineteen sixties and seventies. A circular cocktail table by Superstudio, a lacquered cerulean cabinet by Kazuhide Takahama, and a sculptural chrome and glass lamp by De Martini Falconi and Fois anchor the rooms in a quiet modernist spirit. These pieces remain constant, but the atmosphere around them never stands still.

What defines Fabrizio’s Milan home is not a single style but a philosophy. Inspiration must be continuous, she says, because without it there is no joy, and without joy there can be no beauty. The apartment is therefore not a finished project but a living expression of her eye, her heritage, and the world of textiles that has shaped her life. It is an intimate portrait of Milanese elegance, created by someone who understands that the most refined interiors are those that remain in motion.