The antiques and design store Sinotique, nestled in a skinny space on Mott Street in Chinatown, is not where you’d expect to find a 2,000-year-old vase selling for $800 or a wood pole once used to hold up a house in Guinea now sold as a $400 sculpture.

“The clientele that walks in Chinatown, you wouldn’t ordinarily think are spending the kind of money that they spend,” owner Jan Lee said. “Don’t forget that a block away, we have one of the largest areas down here for gold and diamonds in the entire downtown area … We’re also sandwiched in between the Financial District, Battery Park City, all of this. There’s a tremendous demographic right around us, and they’re all eating here.”

If Mr. Lee’s success is any indication, they’re shopping here, too. The store opened in 1992, and John F. Kennedy Jr. used to buy his Christmas presents at Sinotique when he worked nearby as an assistant district attorney. The store was featured in the pages of Architectural Digest in August 2003 – even during that month’s blackout, customers were “banging on the door,” clutching the magazine, and begging to be allowed inside. Mr. Lee also works on commercial interior design, including a new lounge a few blocks uptown on Mott, and designs a line of furniture and lamps with master carpenter Michael Relushin in Mr. Lee’s Dumbo warehouse and studio.

“You can’t do what I do on Madison Avenue,” Mr. Lee said with confidence. “The clientele up there is much more conservative, much more expected, and safe.” SoHo’s art scene was disintegrating when Mr. Lee opened the store. “In the early ’90s, when these great galleries were leaving, I was just starting.” He picked up a lot of their clients, he said, capitalizing on their appetite for unexpected finds.

“The downtown crowd really get it,” he said.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing, however: “My disadvantage was that people don’t believe young people when they’re telling them something, and that’s a difficult thing when you’re in the antiques business,” the 39-year-old said. He opened the store at age 27.

He sees himself as a filter, someone who sifts through material and selects just enough for his 700-square-foot space. “When you buy something from me, it’s edited through my eye, and people trust that what it is what it is. They trust the look.”

Not everyone has the patience to build a signature style. “You quickly learn who’s in this for the passion of art and antiquities and culture, and who’s in it just for a buck – because the people who are really in it for the passion definitely have a more esoteric look and a more distinguished edited eye.”

And what of Mr. Lee’s own look? “I’ve always had a sympathy to peasant cultures wherever they are, in Africa, or Southeast Asia, or China,” Mr. Lee said. “That sympathy to their lifestyle caused me to seek out the utensils and the objects that they used every day.” It’s not a purely aesthetic – or empathetic – endeavor, though. “Ultimately, you have to be able to sell it,” he quickly added.

When Mr. Lee opened the shop, he focused primarily on Chinese objects. Now he’s more concerned with an item’s form than its country of origin. Thus a 19th-century Chinese bamboo vest, Ethiopian headrests, and inkpots from southern India used to apply bindi dots all have a place in the store. Art by Mr. Lee’s sister, Audrey, hangs on the wall, and several lamps of his own design are nestled among the antique treasures.

Mr. Lee doesn’t have a publicist or take out print ads for Sinotique. His business grows by word of mouth and by his participation in antiques shows. Yet his ready handshake, his direct eye contact, and his speech peppered with superlatives mark him as the kind of entrepreneur that is a walking advertisement for his business.

Mr. Lee’s own apartment, above the store, is decorated with “a mixture of Tibetan carpets and muted earth tones and some ’60s and ’70s modern.” His family has owned the space since the early 20th century. They are Toisan, the dialect group that founded Chinatown and still make up the majority of the area’s property owners.

It’s this deep-rooted connection to the neighborhood that has sparked his current passion, a crusade that has nothing to do with history or design. He says that New York police officers have been parking their cars in metered spots, tow zones, and loading areas on the streets of Chinatown since September 11, 2001. Mr. Lee said that he has video footage of an ambulance forced to drive on the sidewalk because of a blocked emergency zone.

He’s also concerned with the effect on sales.

“There are restaurants in Chinatown that are paying $25,000 a month and they’re still able to put an entree on the table for $6. So it’s volume. And if we don’t get the volume in Chinatown, that’s when you start getting layoffs and people having to be fired.”

Though Sinotique feels like a tranquil sanctuary apart from the knickknack shops and fruit stands that surround it, Mr. Lee is still a concerned Chinatown businessman. He manages to find a clientele for his unique collection of antiques and he has hope for the neighborhood’s future.

“I’ve had amazing people come through the door,” he says. “They’re here, they’re eating, and they’re actually looking for a place like this.”