Inside 1OAM, the Athens hub where you can ‘work, create, stay, eat, discover an object, take a bath…’

The ingredients that shape the sensory cosmos of 1OAM, a creative project and hub spanning multiple ventures and the concrete and glass layers of a 1970s warehouse in Athens, feel at once timeless yet also distinctly of their place: olive oil, thyme, honey, sunlight, bread, clay, memories, candles, sage, silence, mountain tea, rituals, connection, incense.

It was in 2016 that creative director Eva Papadaki first came across the building on a narrow lane in the Gazi district while looking for a base for her artist management company – and it has since evolved slowly into an organic layering of creative spaces.

Today, it’s a sanctuary for modern life. It’s possible to eat fresh bread and cinnamon rolls (in the café and bakery); inhale Greek island scents and shop for oils, candles and ceramics (in 1OAM apotheke); bed down for the night (in four 1OAM Lofts); and take a bath with a view of the Acropolis (in the Penthouse).

And the main protagonist is the 1973 building, by architect Aristidis Romanos. Shaped by raw concrete and sunlight, phased 1OAM interior renovations – by Gavalas Ioannidou Architecture and Studio Andrew Trotter – aim to 'reveal' rather than 'decorate'. The original industrial-edged DNA is tempered with a modern sculptural beauty (a duo of spiral staircases, one in corten steel, the other in concrete, are a highlight).

1OAM is increasingly spreading its wings. New projects range from island pop-ups to events in select hotels and spaces across Greece (including Antiparos, Hydra, Symi, Crete); while a candle collaboration with Danish designer Louise Roe launches in October 2026. Yet its heartbeat remains its singular Athens home. Speaking to Wallpaper*, Papadaki shares her thoughts on rituals and light, memory and senses – and the beauty of Greek hospitality.

An interview with 1OAM founder Eva Papadaki

Wallpaper*: How do you describe 1OAM – what is it exactly?

Eva Papadaki: It’s increasingly difficult to describe 1OAM as one thing. It’s a place where you can work, create, stay, eat, discover an object, take a bath, meet someone, spend an afternoon or simply sit for a while. There are the Lofts, the Penthouse, the apotheke, the café and bakery, but I don't experience them as separate projects. I think of 1OAM as a small world built around a way of living.

W*: What was its seed?

EP: There was never a master plan. The seed was probably my instinct to bring together things that are usually kept separate. Work and home, creativity and everyday life, beauty and usefulness, solitude and gathering. 1OAM began as an artist management agency. I needed a space for my team and the artists I represented. Then I found this building – and somehow the building started suggesting what could come next.

W*: Can you remember the moment you first crossed the threshold?

EP: I remember arriving and meeting an elderly man who was looking after the building. It felt almost abandoned. But the moment I entered, I felt possibility. The scale, the raw concrete, the light, the emptiness. I could immediately imagine life inside it. I could not have imagined everything it would eventually become, but I knew I wanted to bring people and energy back into it. Looking back, I sometimes feel I chose the building – but the building chose the direction of my life.

W*: There is so much natural light. Can you tell me about the original architecture?

EP: It was designed by a Greek architect called Romanos and completed in 1973. It was originally a food storage warehouse. This explains one of its most distinctive architectural features: the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows on every level – designed to open completely, from top to bottom, allowing cranes to lift and move food boxes directly into warehouse floors. They bring an extraordinary amount of natural light into what is otherwise a very raw concrete structure.

W*: And how did 1OAM come to life?

EP: One space became another, a working space became a home, the home became a place to welcome people, memories from my childhood became products, products became an apotheke, and eventually food and hospitality entered the story. I think the most important thing is that every part came from a real need or a real part of my life. Nothing was invented simply because we needed another concept.

W*: In terms of interior renovations, what was your creative vision?

EP: To reveal rather than decorate. I never wanted the building to lose its industrial character or to become too perfect. The concrete, the existing floors, the marks of time, the scale of the openings were already telling a story. The intervention had to respect that. At the same time, I did not want it to feel cold. I am very attracted to contrasts. Raw concrete beside linen, steel beside old wood, monumental spaces containing very intimate objects.

W*: How did you collaborate on interiors?

EP: Gavalas Ioannidou worked on the earlier transformation of the Lofts. Later, Studio Andrew Trotter, Gavalas and I worked together on the Venue [event and exhibition space] and Penthouse. What Andrew brought was something I felt very close to instinctively: a very quiet understanding of material, proportion, imperfection and atmosphere. Gavalas already had a deep understanding of the building and its structure.

W*: What about the material palette?

EP: Concrete is the material that defines the building most strongly. Around it there is steel, corten, glass brick, wood, stone, lime plaster, linen, ceramics and original terrazzo preserved wherever possible. I like materials that age. I do not need them to remain pristine. I prefer a table that carries traces of dinners, stone that changes with use, linen that becomes softer, metal that oxidises. I do not want people to walk in and think only about design. I want them to feel something first: calm, perhaps curious, a sense that they can stay.

W*: Another ingredient is 1OAM apotheke. What inspired this sensory world?

EP: Apotheke came from memory. I grew up in Crete in a house where many things we needed were simply there. Olive oil, honey, herbs, bread, soap, candles, incense. At some point in my adult life I realised that what I had once considered completely ordinary had become precious to me. I did not want to romanticise the past. I wanted to bring some of its intelligence into contemporary life. The apotheke became my way of doing that.

W*: What do rituals mean to you?

EP: For me, ritual is simply the moment when an ordinary action receives your full attention. Making tea can be a ritual. Lighting incense can be a ritual. Preparing a table, taking a bath, applying oil to your skin, breaking bread with someone. It does not have to be spiritual in an obvious way. Perhaps ritual is simply presence. I think presence has become increasingly valuable because so much of contemporary life is designed to remove us from the moment we are actually living.

W*: How is 1OAM rooted in Greek wisdom?

EP: The connection is everywhere, but I try not to make it literal. Our mountain tea, sage and dittany come from Greek landscapes. Our honey, olive oil, salt, beeswax, incense and soaps come from traditions and ingredients that have existed for generations. The bakery works with the same vocabulary. Bread, olive oil, tahini, honey, herbs, seasonal fruit. But what interests me even more is the philosophy behind these things. Greek life has always understood the importance of the table, of hospitality, of feeding people, of sitting together, of opening the house. That may be the deepest Greek element in 1OAM.

W*: How about staying overnight?

EP: For many years, people came to the Lofts to work, shoot, create, have dinner, celebrate, meet. Eventually I realised that the only thing they could not really do was wake up here. Opening the spaces for staying felt like completing the circle. I have always loved having people in my home, setting a table, creating an atmosphere, making someone feel comfortable.

W*: The Penthouse is so serene. You used to live there?

EP: Yes. It was my home for four years. I woke up with the Acropolis in front of me. I watched the light move across Athens throughout the day. I cooked there, worked there, had friends around the table, spent evenings alone, took baths looking across the city. I wanted the interior to transport me somewhere completely different from the industrial landscape outside. In many ways, I wanted it to carry the feeling of living on an island and take me back to the landscape of Crete.

W*: Can you share its design concept?

EP: The Penthouse is very tactile and soft in contrast to the industrial shell of the building. The lime plaster walls were fundamental. I wanted surfaces that absorbed light rather than reflected it, natural fabrics, quiet colours and materials that felt almost elemental. The same idea continues outside. The planting was chosen not only visually but sensorially. Rosemary, thyme and other Mediterranean plants. I wanted entering the Penthouse to feel almost like crossing from one landscape into another. Outside there is Athens, concrete, railway lines, industry, movement, noise. Inside there is softness, linen, plaster, herbs, scent, silence.

W*: And the artworks and furniture?

EP: There are Charlotte Perriand ‘Dordogne’ chairs, a Pierre Jeanneret rattan bench, contemporary ceramics and sculptures – and also anonymous objects and old pieces that I have carried with me for years. I like placing something recognised as important beside something whose maker may be unknown.

W*: Plus that bath with Acropolis views.

EP: The bath was always one of my favourite places in the Penthouse. You are completely exposed to the scale of Athens and at the same time completely alone. I love that contradiction. Bathing is one of the simplest ways I know to return to myself. Water, scent, warmth, skin, silence.

W*: How do you see the dialogue between 1OAM and Athens?

EP: Athens has an energy I find very difficult to imagine anywhere else. It is beautiful and ugly at the same time. Ancient and completely contemporary. Sophisticated and chaotic. It has never been too polished, and I think that leaves space for people to invent things. 1OAM could only have happened here. The building itself is part of that contradiction. It is an industrial structure beside the railway, surrounded by the noise of Athens – yet inside are moments of complete stillness.

W*: And what role do the café and bakery play in the 1OAM universe?

EP: Food was always missing. It felt strange to talk about living, hospitality and ritual without feeding people. So again, it came from something very basic. The bakery brings the smell of bread into the building. People drink coffee, share something warm from the oven, sit at the tables, move through the apotheke. It changes the energy completely. The products are no longer simply objects on shelves. The olive oil is something you taste. The honey is on the bread. The herbs become tea in your cup.

W*: What is the connective thread between all these different elements in 1OAM?

EP: Life itself. I never wanted to create separate concepts for work, home, food, design or hospitality, because I don't experience them separately in my own life. 1OAM brings all these things under the same roof. A place to work, create, eat, bathe, sleep, meet people and be alone.

W*: What is your perfect 1OAM day?

EP: I would wake up early with the windows open. Coffee first, always. A quiet morning, preferably barefoot, no rush to leave the house. I would work for a few hours. Then a long lunch around a table, simple food, olive oil, bread, tomatoes, perhaps a glass of wine. Somewhere in the day there would be the sea. Late afternoon light, a bath before dinner, incense burning somewhere. Friends arriving without too much organisation. Food again. Conversation that lasts longer than expected. And then sleep with the windows open.

W*: Ultimately, what imprint do you hope 1OAM might leave on people?

EP: I don't necessarily want people to remember what they saw. I would rather they remember how they felt. Perhaps they stayed longer than intended. Perhaps they noticed the smell of bread or incense. Perhaps they sat around a table with someone. Perhaps they slept deeply. Perhaps they took something home, and it became part of their everyday life. If 1OAM can leave people with a little more desire to care for the way they live, the things they use, the food they eat, the people around them and the time they give themselves, that is enough.

10amapotheke.com, 10amlofts.com