7/ Okay, But What If Ghia Had a Bar?

What happens when a brand that lives as color, object, and feeling becomes a place?

This project imagines Bar Ghia — not as another non-alcoholic bar, but as a physical translation of Ghia’s world: metallic, warm, tactile, graphic, and quietly sophisticated. A space that feels designed, but never performative. A neighborhood bar that could only exist in Silver Lake, yet feels universal in its sensibility.

Rather than thinking of Bar Ghia as a “concept bar,” the project treats it as an extension of the brand — a built environment where every surface, material, and ritual reflects Ghia’s identity.

A Quiet Door on a Hill

Set along a winding stretch of Hyperion in Silver Lake, Bar Ghia doesn’t announce itself loudly.

From the street, the exterior is restrained: patinated steel panels, clean architectural lines, and a softly glowing sign reading Bar Ghia in an elegant, slightly retro script. The entrance is framed by tall ribbed wood doors that feel both intimate and deliberate, offering just a hint of what lies inside.

There is no flash, no spectacle — only a sense that something considered is waiting beyond the threshold.

Inside: Metal, Wood, and Amber Light

The interior unfolds as a study in contrasts.

Warm, finely grooved wood paneling wraps the walls and ceiling, creating a cocoon-like atmosphere. Against this, a long stainless steel bar stretches across the space — cool, reflective, and perfectly proportioned. The metal isn’t cold or clinical; instead, it feels softened by touch and time, like an object meant to be leaned on.

Linear pendant lights hover gently above the bar, casting a warm amber glow that bounces across the steel and wood. The lighting feels intimate rather than dramatic, inviting conversation rather than performance.

Behind the bar, Ghia bottles and cans are arranged almost like a gallery display — a rhythmic composition of green, blue, and burgundy that subtly references the brand’s color palette.

Glassware as Sculpture

At Bar Ghia, even the vessels are part of the design.

The totem glasses, created in collaboration with Sophie Lou Jacobsen, sit atop the bar like small sculptural objects. Their playful, stacked forms blur the line between functional glassware and collectible design.

In these glasses, a simple spritz feels elevated — not in a precious way, but in a considered one. The drink becomes an object, the glass a conversation piece, the act of sipping a small ritual.

Tables for Talking

Instead of formal dining, Bar Ghia leans into a relaxed lounge sensibility.

A few low steel tables are scattered throughout the space, paired with retro Bauhaus–inspired cantilever chairs in dark leather with polished chrome frames. The furniture nods to Mart Stam and mid-century modernism, but feels current in its restraint.

These are not tables meant for long meals — they are for lingering, sharing plates, and easy conversation. The layout encourages proximity, not isolation.

Snacks that Belong to the Space

The food at Bar Ghia is intentionally simple and material-forward.

A signature dish: golden arancini served tapas-style on brushed steel plates, resting on a bright smear of tomato sauce. Crisp on the outside, creamy within, finished with a light dusting of herbs — they feel as thoughtful as the space itself.

Like everything else here, the plating is minimalist and graphic, letting texture and material take center stage.

Bathrooms as an Extension of the Brand

Even the bathrooms feel like part of the story.

Inspired by Soho House but filtered through a Ghia lens, the gender-neutral restrooms feature deep burgundy square tiles, checkered floors, and long stone sinks positioned outside the stalls.

Brass mirrors, soft wall sconces, and warm lighting create a slightly retro, slightly moody atmosphere — elegant without being precious. It’s the kind of bathroom you notice, not because it’s flashy, but because it feels intentional.

A Bar That Feels Like Ghia

Ultimately, Bar Ghia isn’t about spectacle or trend.

It’s about material, texture, and feeling. About steel that catches the light, wood that holds warmth, and color that appears quietly in the details — in a can, a coaster, a glass base.

It’s a space that invites you to slow down, to sip, to talk, to notice.

Not a destination bar. Not a brand museum. Just a place that feels unmistakably, quietly, beautifully Ghia.

Bar Ghia — not flashy. Just really good.