Trina Turk has spent three decades building a visual vocabulary around unapologetic color and pattern. For her latest collaboration with FLOR, the designer went back through the archives to see what might work at an entirely different scale: underfoot.

Three new rugs expand the Trina Turk x FLOR collection, which first launched in 2024, bringing the collaboration to 12 designs. Rather than developing the latest additions independently from Turk’s fashion work, the team revisited prints and color combinations from both Trina Turk and Mr Turk, translating familiar motifs into FLOR’s modular carpet system.

Easy Does It in Spice. Photography courtesy of FLOR

“For this collection, we returned to the archives and revisited prints and color combinations that felt quintessentially ‘Trina Turk,’” Turk tells Design Milk. “There’s a confidence and optimism to the collection that feels rooted in our original brand DNA, but interpreted in a fresh way for interiors.”

Midnight Muse in Navy. Photography courtesy of FLOR.

That translation involved more than simply enlarging a print. Fashion and flooring operate at dramatically different scales, and the collection experiments with pattern size and placement to make Turk’s graphic sensibility work across an interior. Midcentury modern design—and particularly the geometry, color, and escapism associated with Palm Springs—provides another through line.

“We wanted the collection to feel vibrant, graphic, and expressive, while still being livable and versatile,” Turk says.

Go With the Flow in Butterscotch. Photography courtesy of FLOR.

Each of the three designs takes a different route through the archives. Go With The Flow leans into the geometric side of Mr Turk, using a curved pattern available in Olive, Butterscotch, Black, and Coral. Midnight Muse draws from radiating prints including Turk’s Coppelia pattern, translating their movement and layered color into Berry, Fawn, and Navy versions. And Easy Does It takes a more abstract approach, using tonal shifts and texture in Tundra, Maize, Spice, and Turquoise.

Midnight Muse in Fawn. Photography courtesy of FLOR.

For Turk, FLOR’s tile-based format also offers an interesting counterpoint to the expressive patterns. Individual carpet tiles can be configured into area rugs of different dimensions, allowing a relatively bold design language to adapt to the room rather than demanding that the room adapt to a predetermined rug.

“What makes FLOR such a great partner is that the system is incredibly flexible and functional, while still allowing for a strong design point of view,” Turk explains. “The collection gives people permission to take more creative risks with interiors in a way that still feels approachable and practical.”

Go With the Flow in Black. Photography courtesy of FLOR.

The three new Trina Turk x FLOR designs are available now as part of FLOR’s Fall 2026 collection.

Editorial Transparency: This article was developed with the assistance of AI tools, which may have been used for research, outlining, editing, or copy refinement. Reporting, fact-checking, and editorial decisions were made by the Design Milk editorial team.

New York’s historic Gramercy Park neighborhood may be known for its private park, but inside one nearby apartment, openness and sunlight were in short supply. Studio Rosenthal was tasked with changing that. Originally built as a two-bedroom, the home had been converted into a three-bedroom, with partitions that encroached on the living area and limited the flow of natural light. Working as both architect and interior designer, Studio Rosenthal undertook a gut renovation that restored the apartment to its original two-bedroom configuration, reclaiming space for the living room and allowing sunlight to travel more freely throughout the home.

Photography by Adrian Gaut

The clients, a couple based primarily in Australia who split their time across several countries, wanted a calm and highly functional retreat from New York’s cultural energy. Studio Rosenthal shaped the apartment around their lifestyle as international, part-time residents.

Photography by Adrian Gaut

Throughout the apartment, new wood flooring and trimless lighting establish a quiet backdrop for a restrained material palette. Whitewashed oak cabinetry, rope wall coverings, and a Lapitec kitchen island and counter extend across the kitchen and living areas. In the primary bedroom, unfilled travertine shelving is integrated into solid European oak cabinetry that also conceals the apartment’s HVAC units, while Pietra Gray marble forms a sculptural vanity in the powder room.

Photography by Adrian Gaut

Several pieces were commissioned specifically for the space. A walnut entry console by Jacques Jarrige is mounted near the front door, while Eric Schmitt designed the primary bedroom’s fully upholstered headboard, with sconces integrated directly into the piece. A custom coffee table in straw marquetry completes the trio in the living room.

Photography by Adrian Gaut

Belgian, Brazilian, and Japanese influences inform the interior, contributing to the refined, hotel-like atmosphere that carries from the entry to the primary bedroom and powder room. Works by Sheila Hicks, Jenny Holzer, and Rafi Ajl add another layer to the rooms, complementing the materials, custom furnishings, and architectural interventions that transformed the apartment.

Some NFL quarterbacks choose to spend their fortune in a wildly ostentatious fashion, buying private jets, yachts, $300,000 watches, or flashy supercars. Joe Flacco, 2013 Super Bowl MVP with the Baltimore Ravens and current Cincinnati Bengals quarterback, built a home near where he and his wife, Dana, grew up that perfectly suits his large family of seven. 

Photography by Brian Wetzel Photography

Add in that five of the seven are active school-aged children (four of them boys), and it’s obvious this project took some serious design savvy. Dana Bergman Falcione and Erica Vassalotti, co-founders of Philadelphia–based interior design practice Bergman Vass, collaborated with architecture firm Asher Slaunwhite + Partners to make this home work. The result is a refined, minimalist aesthetic that balances sophistication with the demands of a large, busy family. 

Photography by Brian Wetzel Photography

Though the couple bought this 3.5-acre plot of land in the Philadelphia suburb of Haddonfield, New Jersey, years ago, they only decided to build their forever home once they knew their family was complete. More than a decade and five kids later, the Flaccos commissioned the architects and designers to demolish the existing house and custom-build this 10,000-square-foot home. 

Photography by Brian Wetzel Photography

Their number one requirement: They wanted the home to be functional for how they actually live. “The spaces that were really important to them were the kitchen, pantry, homework room, and mudroom,” Falcione and Vassalotti explain. “That’s where functional design would ease their everyday lives.”

Photography by Brian Wetzel Photography

The mudroom was an absolute essential for this sports-loving family. The home’s main entrance opens into the mudroom, which includes laundry facilities, so kids can come home, ditch their sports gear, stow their backpacks, and toss dirty clothes straight into the wash. Individual lockers for each child feature metal-mesh doors and keep everything in its place. 

Photography by Brian Wetzel Photography

Thoughtful material selections for hard surfaces, millwork, stone, and casegoods were key to adding polish while creating durable spaces that could take a beating from the kids. 

Photography by Brian Wetzel Photography

“We knew the family was going to need practical materials, performance fabrics, wool rugs that were naturally stain-resistant, and surfaces that were wipeable,” the designers share. “We didn’t let this stop us from selecting lighter fabrics or elevated wallpapers; we just ensured the materials were durable and would be able to stand the test of time, such as vinyl wallpaper made to look like grasscloth and performance linens. We brought in a level of refinement with throw pillows that were in mohair and silk linen but more easily replaceable.” 

Photography by Brian Wetzel Photography

The family’s lifestyle also dictated the circulation flow. “Through the main hall, the first stop is the homework room, with individual desks and a table in the center,” the Bergman Vass duo says. “The pantry is a working kitchen across from the homework room that’s nearly as large as the main kitchen and includes snack cubbies for the kids to pop in and grab [food] while working on homework.” 

Photography by Brian Wetzel Photography

Despite their family’s size, Joe and Dana didn’t prioritize privacy far beyond their primary suite, which includes a spa-like bathroom, two large closets, and a separate vestibule for Dana’s shoes. Their daughter’s bedroom is across the hall from their own, while their sons are off in a separate wing. The couple requested that the boys share rooms to foster “a sense of togetherness and to not lose sight of that—despite the home’s large square footage,” the designers explain. In response, Bergman Vass designed a wing with two bedrooms, each shared by two brothers, connected by a Jack-and-Jill bathroom for all four boys. From there, a hallway leads to the wellness room and, ultimately, the sports court. 

Photography by Brian Wetzel Photography

“The sports court and gym were big must-haves,” the designers explain. “Joe needed a space to work out, and it created an area where all of the kids could play, especially when friends were over.” 

Photography by Brian Wetzel Photography

Though this may be a 10,000-square-foot house, the thinking behind its design comes down to the same things that matter in any busy family home: a place for backpacks, snacks, homework, laundry, and, in this case, a whole lot of sports. 

For more than a decade, the original Osteria Morini was a constant in New York’s dining scene. The Northern Italian restaurant, opened in 2010 under chef Michael White, quickly became a go-to Soho spot. So it came as a surprise when Altamarea Group announced that Jun. 1, 2024, would be its final day of service. At the time, the restaurant group confirmed plans to relocate a new, “refreshed” version of the longtime favorite—and that recently came to life as Piccolo Morini.

Photography by Mcguire McManus

Opened in June, Piccolo is just a short walk down the street from the original Morini. The new 92-seat restaurant trades some of its predecessor’s formality for a more social, energetic approach centered on handmade pasta, martinis, and shareable plates.

That shift extends to the interiors. “We didn’t erase the old identity to create the new one,” says Alsun Keogh of Nusla Design, who led the project. “We literally layered the new generation onto it.” To translate that evolution into the interiors, Keogh started with the design concept of an Italian grandmother’s living room, reimagined by her cool grandchild.

Photography by Mcguire McManus

“It was about loosening it up,” she explains. That meant keeping pieces with a genuine connection to the original restaurant, including its solid-wood butcher-block tables, restored multi-colored trattoria chairs, vintage mirrors, and Il Fanale Murano-shade lighting—but throwing out the traditional rules for using them.

In the new space, those familiar pieces now sit against oxblood walls, a dark ceiling, forest green banquettes, linen café curtains, raw concrete, contemporary art, and unexpected patterns and textures.

Photography by Mcguire McManus

“We kept thinking of Piccolo as the younger generation taking possession of something they genuinely love,” Keogh says. “They’re not throwing out their grandmother’s furniture—they’re putting their own things next to it, changing the music, and inviting their friends over.”

Just as a real grandmother’s living room might contain pieces that are inherited, practical, or even “slightly questionable,” Keogh explains, she sourced items from previous Morini restaurants, auctions, vintage dealers, flea markets, garage sales, and even her own collection.

Photography by Mcguire McManus

Take a look at the hutch in the dining room: It contains an old Morini wine-cork bucket next to antique books, family silver, vintage Italian signs, a new lamp, a Le Creuset pot, and a live plant. Elsewhere, an intentionally unstructured gallery wall brings frames, photographs, maps, needlepoint, and decorative plates together without the formality of a grid.

Photography by Mcguire McManus

Color was another way Keogh signaled that Piccolo belonged to a different generation. A palette of deep oxblood burgundy, forest green, amber, burnt orange, coral, and flashes of yellow could belong in an older Italian interior, but the saturation is amped up to feel more contemporary.

Photography by Mcguire McManus

The clearest expression of the generational shift is outside: The sign features Morini in the original large orange letters, with Piccolo added above in loose yellow neon script. “Piccolo is lighter and cheekier, almost as though someone came along afterward and wrote their name above it,” the designer says. “In a way, that’s the entire project in two typefaces.”

Photography by Mcguire McManus

Back inside, the restaurant is divided into two distinct moods: a warm, intimate dining room and a lively neighborhood bar. The designs suit different kinds of evenings—but both work together. Keogh imagines the dining room as a place to bring your parents, have a long dinner, and order a “serious” bottle of wine, while the bar is darker, younger, and a “little less behaved.”

Photography by Mcguire McManus

That flexibility also gets at the larger question Keogh faced with Piccolo: How do you bring back a restaurant people already know without simply rebuilding it?

At 40 Kenmare Street, the answer isn’t a replica of Osteria Morini or a complete break from it. The old tables, chairs, mirrors, lights, and even the name remain recognizable, but they’re surrounded by enough new personalities to give Piccolo an identity of its own.

“Two years ago, Lidan Sfadia and I sketched what at the time felt like a dream on paper,” says developer Edward Grigoryan. “A year ago, it was just dirt. Today, it’s a reality that still leaves me breathless.”

The subject? A sprawling, 7,300-square-foot, U-shaped single-story home located in Tarzana, a San Fernando Valley neighborhood known for its quieter residential character and indoor-outdoor lifestyle. Combining Craftsman influences with elements of Tuscan architecture, the residence is organized around a central courtyard and a close connection to the landscape.

Photography by Nils Timm

As the home comes into view, its Tuscan influences begin with the landscape. Olive trees imported from Napa Valley punctuate the grounds, while limestone-clad walls draped in climbing vines set the scene. To enter the home, visitors pass through French iron-framed doors and step into a space defined by tumbled limestone floors, 12-foot-high ceilings, and Belgian linen drapery that softens the architecture’s substantial scale.

Photography by Nils Timm

Throughout, hand-applied plaster in a warm greige lines the walls, providing a serene neutral backdrop for the natural material palette. The home’s U-shaped layout, meanwhile, separates the private quarters from the public gathering spaces into opposite wings while maximizing ambient light and outdoor views. Nestled within the central garden, the pool is edged with fragrant rosemary, further blurring the distinction between the architecture and landscape.

Photography by Nils Timm

“From the outset, the home was designed around the concept of a massive central courtyard—so we created a 35-foot bridge at the entrance,” says Sfadia, an LA-based developer and the home’s co-creator. Yet that isn’t even its most dramatic—or Zen-like—feature of the home. An imported Bonsai tree was placed directly into a central atrium with a crane. Framed by the surrounding architecture, the tree turns the atrium into a contemplative pause within the home.

Photography by Nils Timm

Adjacent to the atrium, an understated kitchen features custom oak cabinetry, a La Cornue oven, and an island finished in what the designers identify as Bonsai marble—creating what Sfadia and Grigoryan call a “full circle moment.”

Photography by Nils Timm

Drawing inspiration from European architecture—especially Tuscan villas—where materials tend to age gracefully over time, Sfadia and Grigoryan sought to create deeply tactile, atmospheric interiors built to last.

“We wanted to create a calm and relaxing environment but with wow moments created by scale,” the duo explains. Case in point: The family room features a floor-to-ceiling fireplace that functions as a sculptural anchor between two generously sized Belgian linen sofas from RH. A jute rug from Lulu and Georgia, two hair-on-hide Pierre Jeanneret-inspired accent chairs, and a custom artwork by local artist Zack Bayati complete the room.

The neighboring breakfast nook pairs a custom travertine table with woven dining chairs and accessories from Berber Imports. The formal living room also centers on a commanding fireplace, this time complemented by a lighter-hued Lulu and Georgia wool rug, a custom brown suede sofa from a local furniture maker, and a Crate & Barrel lounge chair and coffee table.

Photography by Nils Timm

In the home theater, olive-toned limewash walls create a subtle yet cohesive departure from the home’s overall palette. The dining room returns to the Tuscan-inspired vernacular with an RH brown reclaimed oak table and Belgian linen slipcover dining chairs; an early 1900s antique Persian rug adds another layer of pattern and history underfoot.

Photography by Nils Timm

The private rooms continue the material language established in the shared spaces. The primary bedroom—which offers views of the garden alongside its own fireplace—features a Jenni Kayne linen slipcover bed covered in bedding from Parachute Home, along with a jute rug and a seating area with two Belgian linen chairs from RH flanking a Zara Home side table.

Photography by Nils Timm

The en-suite bathroom continues the emphasis on natural and handcrafted materials with handmade Moroccan tiles, a freestanding tub, an expansive walk-in shower with brass-clad glass doors, and a private outdoor space.

Photo courtesy of Nils Timm

“It’s a resort-like home designed to infuse its inhabitants with a sense of peace and serenity,” Sfadia says. “Building a big, one-story home has always been a dream, and this one really brought that dream to life. With 12-foot ceilings and 10-foot-tall windows, the scale is dramatic, yet despite the proportions, the house remains deeply livable—that was always the ultimate goal.”

That balance of scale and livability ultimately found an audience before the project formally entered the market: A creative couple relocating from Malibu in search of privacy, a slower pace, and a sense of permanence purchased the home before it was listed.

Photography by Nils Timm

Green certainly isn’t revolutionary in interiors, but Behr’s 2027 Color of the Year makes the case that there is still plenty of territory to explore. Grounded (T27-01) sits somewhere between moss and olive, tempered by brown undertones that give the shade a noticeably earthier character.

“In clear morning light, its mossy green feels freshest,” Kayla Kratz, head of color at Behr, says of Grounded’s shifting character. “Through the middle of the day, the olive becomes more pronounced; by evening, the brown undertones surface and the room feels deeper, warmer and more enveloping.”

Photography courtesy of Behr

That responsiveness to light was intentional. Behr’s Color Lab worked through dozens of formulations to arrive at Grounded, adjusting the relationship between green and brown until each component played a distinct role.

“We wanted the moss to keep the color feeling alive, the olive to carry the warmth, and the brown to add depth without pulling the shade too far away from green,” Kratz explains.

Photography courtesy of Behr

The result reflects a larger shift Behr has been tracking across fashion, furniture, materials, and décor: a move toward richer earth tones, tactile materials, and spaces that feel connected to the natural world. Nature itself offered a reference point for how those colors and materials could coexist.

“Beneath a tree canopy, green exists beside bark, soil, and shadow; it changes with the light, yet everything still feels connected,” Kratz says. “Grounded translates that relationship into a single color—the vitality of moss, the warmth of olive, and an earthy depth underneath.”

Photography courtesy of Behr

It’s also a departure from the idea that restorative interiors need to retreat entirely into pale neutrals. Behr sees comfort becoming “warmer, earthier and more expressive” in 2027, with deeper color and natural materials bringing more character to spaces designed for rest.

Grounded anchors Behr’s broader 2027 Color Trends Palette, which extends that nature-driven approach through warm neutrals, layered greens, muted pinks and clay tones, soft blues, and deeper shades such as Nightfall, Sarsaparilla, Smokey Claret, and Mozart. Seven colors from Behr’s archive—Coastal Beige, Wheat Grass, Environmental, Denim Light, Smokey Claret, Sarsaparilla, and Mozart—return to the palette as well.

Photography courtesy of Behr

Editorial Transparency: This article was developed with the assistance of AI tools, which may have been used for research, outlining, editing, or copy refinement. Reporting, fact-checking, and editorial decisions were made by the Design Milk editorial team.

Although Agatha Christie’s seminal murder mystery Death on the Nile unfolds aboard a clunkier, noisier steamer, an earlier generation of Nile travelers made the journey by dahabeah. The quieter, more graceful traditional two-masted passenger sailboats were a fixture of 19th-century travel along the Egyptian river before steamers took over. Today, the waterway is flooded with supercharged, overly amenitized cruise vessels. A reimagined dahabeah, Kemetale seeks to bring back that style of elegant travel—and it’s a welcome change on the Nile.

Photography courtesy of Kemetale

Today, between Luxor and Aswan (a less populated and naturally preserved stretch of the Nile), larger cruise ships typically follow fixed itineraries between ancient temples like Philae, Kom Ombo, and Edfu. They don’t have the flexibility to stop along the way for candle-lit barbeques, traditional dance parties, impromptu bird-watching excursions, or drop-in visits with local mango farmers.

On the other hand, Kemetale—with just eight suites outfitted like a five-star boutique hotel—embraces the “drift” down the Nile, not the “dash.”

Photography courtesy of Kemetale

There’s an ease to this bespoke cruise. Days spent slowly covering significant distances can be spent lounging in the glass wall-enclosed lounge, sunbathing on the roof deck, or reading a book on ancient history in the intimate library.

Photography courtesy of Kemetale

A conventional dahabeah layout would have two suites at the end of an enfilade of 12 tight cabins. The lounge would have been cramped into the front of the ship, away from the uninterrupted views that bring everyone to this part of the world.

Photography courtesy of Kemetale

Co-owners Mohamed Hassan and Ahmed El Leissy cut their teeth in the travel and hospitality industry organizing authentic and intimate desert experiences. The decision to start Kemetale a few years back was a natural progression; a way of tying together everything they were offering their discerning clientele.

“We know what our guests are looking for and designed the ship to meet those needs,” El Leissy explains.

Photography courtesy of Kemetale

He and Hassan tapped Cairo-based interiors studio Eklego to stage the ship with a nuanced, contemporary evocation of history: both the early 20th-century style of their precursors and the much older archaeological sites it stops at during sailings. There’s a timeless quality to the white-washed wainscoting and ship-lapped walls of the lower deck corridor.

“The space is meant to unfold like the sequence of a temple,” El Leissy describes. “One moves from larger to smaller halls through arched passageways.”

Photography courtesy of Kemetale

The bedrooms are an exercise in texture, restraint, and minimalist configuration, with sleek en suite bathrooms. Each carefully placed custom furnishing interprets rather than replicates an age-old Egyptian object typology. They’re all produced locally.

Photography courtesy of Kemetale

The name Kemetale begins with “Kemet,” the ancient Egyptian name for the “Black Land”—the fertile soil deposited along the Nile. Sycamore fig, date palm, and acacia trees have long grown along its banks, and their woods crop up throughout the interior—but every reference is subtle.

“We didn’t want the space to impose on the stunning surroundings we sail past,” El Leissy says.

Photography courtesy of Kemetale

One distinct feature is the Indian Jaali carved wooden screens, which were salvaged from a junkyard and turned into sun-shielding louvers in the main lounge. Despite their intricate carving, the screens sit comfortably within the otherwise restrained interior. Though they don’t directly reference any specific Egyptian craft tradition, these decorative, functional partition walls hint at the fact that some cultural tendencies transcend borders, especially across the Global South.

Photography courtesy of Kemetale

This sentiment carries through details large and small, even the eclectic collection of dinnerware the ship carries: bespoke ceramic plates and bowls produced by artisans across Africa, the Middle East, and Southern Europe.

Photography courtesy of Kemetale

At each meal—where the 16 or so guests gather around a single table to indulge in abundant family-style dishes that reinterpret Egyptian staples—a different set is pulled out. Kemetale is often chartered, but it also runs cruises where unaffiliated travelers quickly become acquainted.

It’s a fitting conclusion to the design philosophy that shapes the entire boat. Kemet doesn’t attempt to recreate the golden age of Nile travel so much as borrow its pace, intimacy, and sense of discovery.

Move over beige—there’s a new take on neutral. Valspar has named Cottage Door 8004-38E its 2027 Color of the Year, a mid-tone blue that balances warm and cool undertones, offering a little more personality without sacrificing versatility.

The selection taps into a growing desire for interiors that feel personal and lived-in rather than overly perfected. Valspar describes Cottage Door as a response to that desire for comfort and authenticity, drawing on soft minimalism, organic layering, and tactile materials.

Photography courtesy of Valspar

“Cottage Door captures blue’s natural sense of security and trust while serving as a colorful new neutral that layers effortlessly into the home,” says Sue Kim, Valspar’s director of color marketing. “It creates spaces that feel balanced, comforting and inviting.”

Photography courtesy of Valspar

That “colorful neutral” designation is perhaps the shade’s most interesting quality. Neither an airy pastel nor a dramatic navy, Cottage Door sits somewhere in between, giving it enough presence to define a room while remaining subdued enough to work across different materials and palettes.

Photography courtesy of Valspar

Valspar pairs the blue with two supporting shades: Moon Shot 8005-2B, a warm gray, and Apricot Blush 8003-8A, a muted creamy pink. Light wood tones add another layer of warmth, creating a palette that feels soft without becoming overly sweet.

Valspar is making Cottage Door available across a range of interior and exterior paints, stains, and specialty finishes, allowing the blue to carry from cabinetry and furniture to exterior surfaces.

Photography courtesy of Valspar

For 2027, at least, Valspar’s version of the neutral home isn’t devoid of color. It’s simply a little quieter about it.

Editorial Transparency: This article was developed with the assistance of AI tools, which may have been used for research, outlining, editing, or copy refinement. Reporting, fact-checking, and editorial decisions were made by the Design Milk editorial team.

After more than a decade working in hospitality development and collaborating with industry icons like Kelly Wearstler and Philippe Starck, Kevin Klein had a realization: “I was being paid to provide design insight to the same people that I was actively looking to for their own perspectives,” he says. That pivot to interior design led him to found Kevin Klein Design in 2020.

The California native’s first client at his eponymous firm was a childhood friend who wanted his home designed from top to bottom. A project of that scope was an invaluable opportunity that still influences his approach today.

Klein creates spaces he hopes will inspire—but his approach is anything but style-centric. With an architecture degree from the University of Southern California, he approaches design holistically, emphasizing construction, operations, and long-term functionality. Whether working in hospitality, residential, or multifamily design, he gives each project a distinct identity.

Klein says his favorite part of the process is when a job is complete and he sees the before-and-after photos. That’s when he sees the tangible, lasting impact of a design—a moment he says is particularly gratifying for him and his team.

Today, Kevin Klein joins us for Friday Five! Below, he shares five items that inspire him and five projects that reflect his work.

Kevin Klein’s 5 Inspirations

Photography by Kevin Klein

1. Gladding, McBean Ceramics Company

I first worked with Gladding, McBean during the restoration of the NoMad Hotel in Los Angeles, where historic terra-cotta elements were key to bringing the original 1920s Bank of Italy building back to life. What fascinated me was discovering just how rare this craft has become: Gladding, McBean is one of only two companies in the country still capable of producing architectural terra cotta at this level. They meticulously replicate deteriorated or missing historic pieces by combining scanning and fabrication technology with traditional handcraft.

I toured their 150-year-old facility in Northern California and was completely blown away by the process: sculpting, molding, glazing, firing, color matching, and essentially reverse-engineering architectural elements that may have been made a century ago. It completely changed the way I look at restoration—not as recreating the past, but as keeping an extraordinary material language alive.

Photography by Kevin Klein

2. Park Hotel Vitznau

I’m fascinated by hotels that feel inseparable from their setting, and Park Hotel Vitznau in Switzerland is one of the best examples. The original hotel opened in 1903 on the edge of Lake Lucerne. I love the tension between this almost fantastical, old-world Swiss architecture and the extraordinary clarity of the surrounding landscape: the lake, the mountains, and the intensity of the light and water.

Inside, the hotel combines contemporary technology and amenities with a sense of honest nostalgia. It’s a great example of how history and modern luxury don’t need to compete. The architecture provides the romance and permanence, while the contemporary interventions provide comfort and relevance. Ultimately, though, the most powerful design element is something no designer put there: the setting. Everything feels secondary to Lake Lucerne, which is exactly what makes the hotel so memorable.

Photography by Kevin Klein

3. Lake Maracaibo in Venezuela

I traveled to Lake Maracaibo in 2012, and I still think about the visuals of that trip today. It’s a strange, incredibly visceral place: the enormous body of water, the density of the surrounding rainforest, the humidity, and an almost constant electrical energy in the sky. The region is famous for its lightning, and seeing that amount of light and energy against such a dark, tropical landscape felt almost artificial. Something about it felt cinematic, and it has stayed in my head for more than a decade. I think designers are constantly building a subconscious library of places, colors, light, textures, and experiences, and Lake Maracaibo found a permanent place in mine.

Photography by Kevin Klein

4. Ferrari 575M Maranello

The Ferrari 575M Maranello sits at an intersection of tradition and modernity that I find incredibly appealing. The V12 has all of the sound, tactility, proportion, and theater you want from an old Italian grand tourer. The long hood, physical controls, and relatively restrained technology give it a vintage allure without actually being a vintage car. I also love that its beauty feels like a strange version of form following function. Nothing about it is gratuitous, yet the result is incredibly stylized. To me, it’s almost the perfect middle ground between romance and performance. Hopefully, one day soon I’ll be able to find one for myself.

Changdeokgung, the former royal palace in Seoul, South Korea, features Dancheong. Photography by Kevin Klein.

5. Korean Dancheong

I’m fascinated by Dancheong—the traditional Korean system of decorative painting—because of how much ornamentation, color, and playfulness can exist within such a rigid underlying system. At first glance, it can feel almost exuberant, with reds, greens, blues, intricate florals, and geometric patterns layered across an architectural surface. But the more you look at it, the more you realize how structured everything actually is. Rules, repetition, hierarchy, and rhythm run underneath all that decoration. I’m generally drawn to design that can hold opposing ideas at the same time, and Dancheong does that beautifully. It’s disciplined without being serious, decorative without feeling arbitrary, and colorful without losing architectural clarity.

5 Projects by Kevin Klein

Photography by Elizabeth Carababas

1. SYRN Brand Studio

I loved the challenge of designing a space for SYRN, Sydney Sweeney’s lingerie brand. It had to function as a workplace, a creative laboratory, and a physical expression of a brand still defining itself. Rather than defaulting to the expected language of a fashion showroom, we leaned into something more intimate and residential. Warm woods, vintage pieces, sculptural forms, and moments of unexpected color create a space that feels collected rather than prescribed. For me, the most interesting commercial spaces are the ones that don’t immediately read as commercial; they create a world you want to spend time in, and the brand’s identity emerges almost subconsciously through the experience of being there.

Photography by Elizabeth Carababas

2. Walkers’ Bar and Market

I’ve always been drawn to spaces that can shift throughout the day, and Walkers’ Bar and Market in Dallas gave us the chance to design something that feels like a neighborhood market in the afternoon and an intimate wine bar at night. We focused on a kind of quiet luxury—beautiful Italian woods and marble, vintage European lighting, restored furniture, and custom pieces—but deliberately kept everything approachable and a little playful. Ultimately, I wanted the space to feel less like a “designed” restaurant and more like somewhere that had evolved over time: personal, layered, slightly imperfect, and deeply connected to the personalities of the siblings behind it.

Photography by Adrian Gaut

3. The Hollywood Roosevelt Gable & Lombard Penthouse and Johnny Grant Apartment

Working within a place as storied as The Hollywood Roosevelt, the goal was never to recreate some idealized version of Old Hollywood, but to make the spaces feel as though they had simply evolved over the past 100 years. We sourced furniture and objects from more than 25 countries and layered them with Italian marble, dark walnut, oak, and warm plaster, allowing age and imperfection to become part of the design rather than something to disguise. During construction, we even uncovered a partially finished hand-painted ceiling mural hidden behind drywall; instead of restoring or completing it, we left it exactly as we found it. That discovery really encapsulated the project for me. Sometimes the most compelling thing a designer can do is recognize when something already has more character than anything you could add.

Photography by Stefan Merriweather

4. West Hollywood Home

This project started with a pretty simple idea: create a room designed almost entirely around hanging out. What emerged was this immersive, slightly hedonistic entertainment space centered on an oversized sunken “cuddle pit,” where the distinction between furniture and architecture starts to disappear. I loved the opportunity to be a little less serious here by layering pattern, texture, vintage pieces, art, and unexpected objects into something eclectic and deliberately difficult to categorize. It’s a good reminder for me that great residential design doesn’t always need to be precious or overly composed; sometimes the rooms people remember most are simply the ones that give them permission to have fun.

Photography by Elizabeth Carababas

5. Chit Chat Coffee & Matcha

With Chit Chat, I wanted to take the familiarity and casualness of a neighborhood coffee shop and give it a more considered architectural identity. The design pulls from mid-century detailing and materiality, but we were careful not to let that reference become nostalgic or overly precious—the space still needed to feel comfortable, social, and genuinely useful. The proportions and detailing lend the space an elegance, balanced by warmth and an inherent informality. I love projects like this because they demonstrate that thoughtful design doesn’t have to announce itself; sometimes its greatest success is simply making an everyday ritual feel a little more special.

Direct midday sun falls on one side of this 1,800-square-foot apartment, and Inga Kordya designed the living room around it. The custom shutter doors are made from tinted oak, built to the proportions of traditional Korean doors and fitted with brass handles shaped like eight-petal flowers. Closed, they convert a hard beam into a pattern of intervals across the floor. The mechanism draws from the same principle used in a hanok, where changhoji—mulberry paper stretched over a wooden lattice—diffuses daylight into an even wash before it enters the room.

Photography by Mikhail Loskutov

Kordya spent time in the historic South Korean districts of Bukchon and Namsangol studying those 14th-century structures while designing the Moscow apartment. The home is for a Korean couple raising two young daughters in a monolithic residential complex several thousand kilometers from Seoul.

Photography by Mikhail Loskutov

The Rimadesio sliding doors apply the same principle using industrial materials. Matte glass replaces the paper and vertical mullions replace the lattice, with both components performing similar functions: the glass scatters transmitted light, and the mullions set a rhythm across the opening. The living room stays visually connected to the central hall while remaining a separate zone, replicating the flexibility a paper screen provides where a solid wall cannot.

Photography by Mikhail Loskutov

Three bedrooms and three bathrooms are arranged around a central hall that absorbs circulation and draws light into the apartment’s core, occupying a role similar to the madang courtyard in a hanok. The two daughters share a sliding partition between their rooms that opens the pair into one space for play. The apartment is therefore not a fixed set of rooms but a series of surfaces that can be repositioned, echoing the way hanok interiors have traditionally allowed families to reconfigure the same volume through the day and across seasons.

Photography by Mikhail Loskutov

Material selection supports the light strategy. Marble, granite, natural wood, brass, ceramics, linen, wool, and cotton all read through texture and reflectance rather than saturated color. Large-format ceramic tiles cover the hall floor, chosen for their texture and tactile quality, beneath a Japanese woodblock print on handmade paper sourced in the Netherlands for the project. The main bathroom shifts to deep gray for a more graphic character, while the primary bedroom uses rotating brass sconces, giving occupants control over where light lands, much like the shutters in the living room.

Photography by Mikhail Loskutov

Rather than reproducing the appearance of a traditional Korean home, Kordya translated some of its underlying principles—filtered light, flexible boundaries, and adaptable rooms—into a contemporary apartment. The result carries those ideas across thousands of kilometers without asking the architecture to imitate where they came from.

Photography by Mikhail Loskutov

Off-white walls, greige Italian limestone floors, Calacatta marble counters, and dark-stained European white oak cabinetry account for nearly the entire color range of this Toluca Lake house by Lidan Sfadia. It’s a deliberately narrow palette, but the rooms avoid flatness through layers of texture, finish, and material.

Photography by Nils Timm; styling by Skye Sheargold

The custom family room sofa is covered in mohair, whose directional nap allows a single upholstered form to shift between two or three tones depending on the viewing angle. Belgian linen appears on the dining room chairs and as Roman shades in the bedrooms, its irregular slub catching and scattering light across the otherwise restrained palette.

Photography by Nils Timm; styling by Skye Sheargold

A shearling chair imported from Denmark adds another depth of fiber, while wool in the family room, checkered jute in the primary bedroom, woven rush on the kitchen barstools, and suede on the bed introduce distinct tactile qualities without straying far from the home’s muted color range.

Photography by Nils Timm; styling by Skye Sheargold

Stone follows the same logic: Honed limestone absorbs rather than reflects daylight, while the smoother Calacatta marble counters subtly shift the way light moves across the adjoining surfaces. Dark oak cabinetry provides the strongest contrast, grounding the softer tones around it.

Photography by Nils Timm; styling by Skye Sheargold

The home’s closed plan reinforces those material distinctions. The family room, dining area, and kitchen remain separate spaces, connected by arched doorways rather than merging into a single continuous volume. As a result, each grouping of materials has room to register on its own before becoming part of the house’s larger sequence.

Photography by Nils Timm; styling by Skye Sheargold

Photography by Nils Timm; styling by Skye Sheargold

Metal provides another layer of contrast. Brass Watermark plumbing fixtures and brass lighting warm the greige palette throughout the interiors, while copper rain gutters extend that material language outside. Both finishes are intended to evolve with age rather than remain visually static. Wrought-iron arched doors and an iron-and-glass coffee table introduce a darker counterpoint, adding definition to a home built largely from subtle shifts in tone and texture.

Photography by Nils Timm; styling by Skye Sheargold

Blending Austrian and Italian influences, the Alpine-Mediterranean province of South Tyrol, Italy, is chock-full of all-inclusive resorts touting flashy break-out amenities. But for many visitors to this remote region, the real draw is simpler: slowing down and taking in the striking natural setting. With just 70 south-facing rooms, suites, and private villas catering to a wide range of guests, Hotel Chalet Mirabell focuses on restorative relaxation and exploratory excursions. Its whopping 64,000-square-foot panoramic spa spreads across two levels: one dedicated to families and the other reserved for adults. Outside, its sprawling lawn incorporates a natural swimming pond and various alfresco lounging setups.

Photography courtesy of Hotel Chalet Mirabell

In winter, guests enjoy the loft-style accommodations and intimate eateries of the off-site ski-in and ski-out Chalet Zuegg—positioned near the peak of the adjacent 6,500-foot Meran peak—while in summer and fall, they e-bike and hike with alpacas along rustic trails.

Photography courtesy of Hotel Chalet Mirabell

The destination’s wide-reaching wine selection—held in an authentically informed yet contemporary wood-clad cellar—and main Michelin-recommended dining room tie everything together, uniting families and groups of friends for multi-course meals. Even here, the space is deftly divided to ensure those in search of peace and quiet aren’t disturbed.

Photography courtesy of Hotel Chalet Mirabell

Chalet Mirabell packs all of this into a contemporary architectural style. Though primarily built in locally sourced timber, the buildings eschew folksy tropes in favor of large exposures and recessed overhangs that contain private balconies. The entire facility is cleverly tiered into the location’s slope. That same refined modern alpine aesthetic carries over to Chalet Zuegg.

Photography courtesy of Hotel Chalet Mirabell

“In the summer, the world is big, and people have the possibility of going anywhere,” says Martin Reiterer, the resort’s second-generation owner. “In the winter, it’s more limited. They want to stay closer to home but have a place to ski and perhaps even hike.”

Chalet Mirabell caters to a broad mix of guests—those coming up from Milan or down from Munich for the weekend and those traveling across the Atlantic or even Asia—year-round.

“The idea is to find relaxation and calm when they can look out over wide expanses of space,” Reiterer adds. “That’s the main draw here.” Chalet Mirabell faces the Sarentino and Oetztal Alps, and the Dolomites are an hour’s drive away.

Photography courtesy of Hotel Chalet Mirabell

The panoramic spa makes the most of the alpine views and bucolic, rolling farmland that unfolds just below the hotel. Tucked beneath the lawn, the adults-only section includes everything from Finnish and organic herbal panorama saunas to brine, light, and aromatherapy baths. Also clad in a near-monastic material palette of wood and stone, this enfilade of dedicated spaces incorporates infrared heat. On the floor above, the family section features a heated pool that seamlessly transitions from indoors to outdoors.

Photography courtesy of Hotel Chalet Mirabell

For a resort with such an extensive roster of amenities, Chalet Mirabell ultimately seems most interested in what lies beyond them. Whether framed by a private balcony, a wall of glass in the spa, or the edge of an outdoor pool, the surrounding mountains remain the constant—making Reiterer’s “wide expanses of space” less an added attraction than the organizing principle of the hotel itself.