Add To Collection
Add to Collection
Sam&Jo eyewear shop
Sam&Jo eyewear shop
Tel Aviv-Yafo, Israel
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
View Original
Add To Collection
Add to Collection
Sam&Jo eyewear shop
Tel Aviv-Yafo, Israel
Firm
Type
STATUS
Built
YEAR
2025
SIZE
0 sqft - 1000 sqft
BUDGET
$100K - 500K
Here, the architecture does not shout. It waits.
And the glasses do not compete. They wait too.
Rather than follow the typical grammar of eyewear retail—bright lights, white shelves, repetition—the design dismantles that language altogether. No walls of product. No overwhelming choice. Instead, the project is constructed around three ideas: presence, interval, and attention.
Each pair of sunglasses is treated as a singular moment. Each pair of sunglasses is displayed on a custom 3D-printed holder (Developed and fabricated with architects through countless prototypes for the space)—either suspended in space or mounted on the wall—framing just one object at a time. The design invites focus, allowing each frame to be seen and felt on its own terms. No massing. Just one object at a time. The spatial rhythm of the shop doesn’t push you forward. It slows you, asking you to pause.
At the heart of the space is a terrazzo-clad planter. It operates as a spatial filter—breaking the field of view, softening circulation, and reducing the number of visible objects at once. It anchors the plan and establishes a behavioral logic: people move around it. The planter doesn’t divide—it calibrates. It introduces rhythm, creates intervals, and slows the visitor’s gaze.
From its flanks, glasses appear to grow outward—suspended on delicate cables that seem almost immaterial. Each pair hovers in its own frame of air, detached from the wall, from the shelf, from noise. Together, the planter and the suspended holders form a single spatial system—one organic, one fabricated—working in tandem to choreograph how attention moves.
As with many YET Architecture projects, plants are not an afterthought, but a starting point. They shape use. They structure experience. In this case, they also establish contrast: a living presence held between grids of precision, a vertical softness that breaks the horizontal logic of display.
The store is divided into two connected rooms, separated by continuous counter. One side of the shop is soft, pale, defined by terrazzo and stainless steel. The other is denser—lined with orange holders and wooden cladding. The shift is quiet, but deliberate. Together, these two conditions generate a rhythm: a contrast between calm and compression.
Materials were selected not for decoration, but for their capacity to register light and time. Terrazzo absorbs light with a muted texture; stainless steel reflects and diffuses it across changing surfaces. A mirrored wall doubles the space and introduces a moment of friction—both revealing and hiding at once. The holders themselves are printed in translucent PETG, produced in-house by the architects. Their semi-opacity gives each frame a sense of lightness, almost like it’s hovering.
The shop window is treated not as a display, but as an extension of the spatial logic within. A second planter, framed in stainless steel, anchors the view from the street, while a series of sunglasses hover above it—each suspended on thin, nearly invisible cables. Even when the shutter is closed, the arrangement remains partially visible, preserving the visual rhythm of the interior. It was important to maintain integrity from every angle—to allow the presence of plants and the stillness of the suspended frames to signal the atmosphere of the space, even in absence.
SaM&Jo is not a store about product density or retail efficiency.
It’s a space of architectural stillness—where design recedes, and attention sharpens.
Where each frame becomes an event, and each visitor moves a little slower.
And the glasses do not compete. They wait too.
Rather than follow the typical grammar of eyewear retail—bright lights, white shelves, repetition—the design dismantles that language altogether. No walls of product. No overwhelming choice. Instead, the project is constructed around three ideas: presence, interval, and attention.
Each pair of sunglasses is treated as a singular moment. Each pair of sunglasses is displayed on a custom 3D-printed holder (Developed and fabricated with architects through countless prototypes for the space)—either suspended in space or mounted on the wall—framing just one object at a time. The design invites focus, allowing each frame to be seen and felt on its own terms. No massing. Just one object at a time. The spatial rhythm of the shop doesn’t push you forward. It slows you, asking you to pause.
At the heart of the space is a terrazzo-clad planter. It operates as a spatial filter—breaking the field of view, softening circulation, and reducing the number of visible objects at once. It anchors the plan and establishes a behavioral logic: people move around it. The planter doesn’t divide—it calibrates. It introduces rhythm, creates intervals, and slows the visitor’s gaze.
From its flanks, glasses appear to grow outward—suspended on delicate cables that seem almost immaterial. Each pair hovers in its own frame of air, detached from the wall, from the shelf, from noise. Together, the planter and the suspended holders form a single spatial system—one organic, one fabricated—working in tandem to choreograph how attention moves.
As with many YET Architecture projects, plants are not an afterthought, but a starting point. They shape use. They structure experience. In this case, they also establish contrast: a living presence held between grids of precision, a vertical softness that breaks the horizontal logic of display.
The store is divided into two connected rooms, separated by continuous counter. One side of the shop is soft, pale, defined by terrazzo and stainless steel. The other is denser—lined with orange holders and wooden cladding. The shift is quiet, but deliberate. Together, these two conditions generate a rhythm: a contrast between calm and compression.
Materials were selected not for decoration, but for their capacity to register light and time. Terrazzo absorbs light with a muted texture; stainless steel reflects and diffuses it across changing surfaces. A mirrored wall doubles the space and introduces a moment of friction—both revealing and hiding at once. The holders themselves are printed in translucent PETG, produced in-house by the architects. Their semi-opacity gives each frame a sense of lightness, almost like it’s hovering.
The shop window is treated not as a display, but as an extension of the spatial logic within. A second planter, framed in stainless steel, anchors the view from the street, while a series of sunglasses hover above it—each suspended on thin, nearly invisible cables. Even when the shutter is closed, the arrangement remains partially visible, preserving the visual rhythm of the interior. It was important to maintain integrity from every angle—to allow the presence of plants and the stillness of the suspended frames to signal the atmosphere of the space, even in absence.
SaM&Jo is not a store about product density or retail efficiency.
It’s a space of architectural stillness—where design recedes, and attention sharpens.
Where each frame becomes an event, and each visitor moves a little slower.
Product Spec Sheet
Were your products used?
Join as a manufacturer to add your products.