Fashion designer Antonio Marras is Sardinian born and bred, and his home on the island is a source of inspiration as well as a sanctuary. The hill-top house where he lives and works is on the outskirts of the 11th-century port of Alghero, the most Spanish town on the island, with a dialect based on Catalan. From here Marras creates not only menswear and womenswear under his own label, but also collections for the house of Kenzo, for whom he is creative director.

Marras's home and studio were built 15 years ago. "We had been looking for somewhere in the old town of Alghero but couldn't find anything that gave us enough space," says Marras's wife Patrizia. "When we came here we were enchanted by the views and were the only family in permanent residence. The few other buildings between us and the sea were used by farmers or as holiday homes." The house started with the ground-floor studio and a few rooms above, but with time it grew. "It is a tradition on the island that when you have a son you build another room," says Marras, and so with the arrival of Efisio, now 14, and Leonard, 8, more rooms were added. In spite of its relatively recent construction, the house has an old and settled feel, partly because all the doors have been salvaged from other buildings, the tiles of the bathroom floor are recycled and most of the cupboards, dressers and units are antique. In fact, very little apart from the walls is new, and they have been painted with mottled colours or in timeless white.

But even with its numerous rooms there is little empty space in the house; the couple are avid, if not addicted, collectors. In the series of ground-floor rooms that make up the studio there are rails of vintage clothes and old shop cabinets containing pairs of leather and satin shoes from the Thirties and Forties; hanging in a line above a table of books is a row of tiny, doll-size frocks. "They were part of a collaboration I did with artist Maria Lai," explains Marras; she also designed the artwork of handwritten script and loom-like threads over the end wall of the room.

Upstairs in the sitting room, divided into two areas, there are cabinets and wall-mounted boxes, some of which contain toys: plastic Donald Ducks, a Pinocchio figure and tin cars. In the centre of the outer sitting room, with its white draped and cushioned sofas, there is an "installation" comprising old school desks, children's chairs and drawers which contain spools of thread, hat moulds, battered leather suitcases and a stool with a seat made from strips of tyre — all interspersed with ten flexible table lights that are directed to highlight various groupings. "It is important in a home to be surrounded by the things you love, they don't necessarily have to be useful," says Marras.

When asked if he knows where things are in this vast conglomeration, he smiles. "I change it around every six months or so, I'll find some new things and they will trigger a rearrangement," he says. His wife adds, "Antonio is always busy, he's full of energy and can't sit still for long," and as if on cue, he leaves the drawing of a nautical outfit that he is doing for a show later this year at the V&A, and rallies a team for a vigorous game of table football.

And the "collections" go on. Stacked on the floor of the upper "sanctuary room" are piles of old, locally made tufted rugs. The calico curtains at the windows which overlook the wraparound terrace (which doubles as a skateboarding arena) are hand-painted and embroidered with dancing figures.

The two main windowless walls of this room are fitted, floor to ceiling, with shelves stuffed with books, CDs, and more intriguing knick-knacks.

The kitchen and dining room are slightly less packed. An old Genovese marble sink and drainers are situated in front of a window that looks over a courtyard rimmed with cactus and citrus trees.

A dresser painted in a vivid

yellow runs the length of one wall, and in front of it, a table is filled to overflowing with dried grasses and fresh fruits. The curtains under the sink and work surfaces were hand-painted by Marras and oversewn with black sequins.

This is a house where even the most mundane things seem to have a touch of glamour ­ Patrizia, nursing a broken wrist, manages to make a plaster cast look chic. Decorated with ink drawings à la Frida Kahlo, suspended in a "couture" sling, it looks good enough to feature on the catwalk. Even the bathroom has a "collection" — the walls are hung with architecturally shaped mirrors.

And through the house, studio and Marras's work, there is a theme, a fine strip of burgundy red cotton. Ribbons of it bind books and packages, papers and bags; it also appears sewn into waistcoats and jackets, and sometimes frocks and skirts. Antonio has a piece wrapped around his wrist, and Patrizia has some around her neck from which various tokens and lockets hang.

"In the past many young people emigrated from Sardinia, in search of work and better times," says Marras. "When they left, their mothers would wrap a few mementoes in a cloth to be taken as reminders of their homeland. The cloth was red, and tied with a red band to represent the umbilical cord and the link to the mother country." His own links with his homeland are strong and personal, although his influence is increasingly international. But Antonio Marras didn't have to leave home to find his fortune. Fortune came to him.

Kenzo, 70 Sloane Avenue, London SW3 (020-7225 1960; www.kenzo.com)

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