One by one, the relics of Red Hook’s rough past are being recycled as, along the waterfront, crooked storefronts give way to chic boutiques and sailors’ saloons are reborn as bistros. A month ago, when Beatrice Giovanniello and Brad Acopulos opened the gates to Atlantis, a vintage furniture and housewares boutique on Van Brunt Street, they added another hotspot to the neighborhood’s lengthening list. Brimming with sleek handmade tables made from salvaged local wood and metal, curved chairs upholstered in atomic 1950s fabrics, and antique industrial cabinets burnished to a smooth, pearly patina, Atlantis mines Red Hook’s past and transforms it into something artful and new.

“The philosophy of recycling is very powerful to me,” said Mr. Acopulos, 48. “I like the idea that with furniture, or with people, you can remake something broken – so it may not be what it was when it started, but it can have a new purpose, be reused, and be made beautiful.” In service of that philosophy, he and his friends and scouts scour the back streets, boatyards, and basements of the city in search of discarded or forgotten treasures. One of Mr. Acopulos’s and Ms. Giovanniello’s favorite pieces is a gleaming, blond coffee table in a typical mid-century amoeboid shape; though it looks as if it could easily have been plucked from the pages of Design Within Reach, in fact the lustrous ash tabletop was recovered from a dumpster behind a church on Navarrone Street, where it had once been used as a wall panel. Indeed, even Atlantis’s 150-year-old, ornately carved front door was rescued from the refuse of an abandoned building on Jones Street.

Though they work seamlessly as a collaborative team, Ms. Giovanniello and Mr. Acopulos bring different approaches to their designs. Ms. Giovanniello favors the style of classic 1950s kitsch – including molded plastic lamps, brightly colored and textured fabrics, and furniture with clean, space-age silhouettes. Mr. Acopulos has the eye of a folk artist, constructing striking new pieces out of odd, mismatched remnants. An old mahogany headboard and a bench from the waiting room at Grand Central Terminal are combined to make a unique set of shelves. An elegant pair of end tables are stripped of their damaged legs and stacked on top of one another to make a lingerie chest that would look at home in any aspiring starlet’s bedroom. Just inside the Atlantis’s front door stands an enormous floor lamp whose undulating gold arms spin out from its sides like a sunburst. “That actually started life as a chandelier in one of Horn and Hardart’s famous Automat restaurants,” Mr. Acopulos said. “But I decided it would look great inverted, so I mounted it on a funky architectural base, and it became a floor lamp instead.” Prices at Atlantis range from $20-$80 for vintage ceramics and accessories to $150-$1,000 for upholstered chairs and sofas to $2,000-$4,000 for custom-made pieces made from one-of-a-kind artifacts.

Mr. Acopulos, whose primary career has been as a carpenter and contractor, and Ms. Giovanniello, who previously owned an interior design and upholstery shop in SoHo, have lived in Red Hook for four years, and until last winter, shared a large studio in the old Todd Shipyard. When the shipyard was slated for demolition to make way for the construction of a controversial Ikea outlet, the couple was forced to relocate – but they never considered leaving the neighborhood. “It was really upsetting when we had to go, but it was good in that it forced us to find this space,” Ms. Giovanniello said. “And Red Hook is really ready for this now.”

Their style may be unconventional, but Mr. Acopulos and Ms. Giovanniello have quickly made a name for themselves as innovators. “We worked with other designers for a long time,” Ms. Giovanniello said, “and eventually people just began to trust us to come up with interesting solutions.” As a couple and a creative team, the opening of the new shop has been both gratifying and exhausting. Though they signed a lease on the building in January, it took months to refinish and repair the floors, install new windows, and move their massive inventory of furniture and fabric. Now their back room is stacked ceiling-high with bolts of unusual upholstery cloth and the basement is piled with tools, tables, and Mr. Acopulos’s many works in progress. In the front of the shop, opera pipes in over stereo speakers and Ms. Giovanniello perches on a vintage green castro couch and answers the questions of browsing shoppers.

While Red Hook is still considered a frontier by many New Yorkers, at Atlantis business has been brisk. “We’ve been selling steadily since we opened,” says Ms. Giovanniello. “It’s amazing how many people are out walking around. We could stay open until 10 at night and still have traffic.” Standing outside the shop on a recent Saturday, both designers smiled and waved to neighbors as they passed. “Sometimes the city can be really tough,” said Mr. Acopulos. “But this place is unbelievable. It’s like Main Street U.S.A.”

Atlantis, 351 Van Brunt St., Red Hook, Brooklyn, 646-258-1372.