The Rooms We’re Designing Differently in 2026
The Monday Journal | Melissa LaRosa Interiors
For a long time, I think we designed homes with one question quietly sitting in the back of our minds:
How will this look?
How will the kitchen photograph?
Will the living room feel pulled together?
Does everything coordinate?
Is the bathroom impressive enough?
And of course, those things matter. I’m an interior designer. I will always care about the way a room looks.
But lately, I find myself asking my clients—and myself—a very different question:
How will you actually live here?
Because somewhere along the way, I think we became so focused on creating beautiful rooms that we occasionally forgot the people who were supposed to live in them.
And that is one of my favorite changes happening in design right now.
We aren't abandoning beautiful homes.
We're simply asking them to do more for us.
The Kitchen Is Becoming a Room Again
There was a stretch of time when kitchens became incredibly pristine.
White cabinetry. White countertops. A perfectly styled island. Appliances hidden away. Very little on the counters.
Beautiful? Absolutely.
But sometimes they could feel almost too perfect to touch.
I’m loving the warmth we're beginning to bring back into kitchens.
Wood tones. Natural stone. Interesting hardware. Beautiful lighting. Cabinetry that feels a little more like furniture. Finishes that don't necessarily match perfectly but look wonderful together.
And perhaps most importantly, kitchens are being designed around the way a family actually uses them.
Where do the kids drop their backpacks?
Where does someone sit with a cup of coffee in the morning?
Where do you plug in the mixer?
Where does the mail inevitably land?
Where does everyone gather when people come over—even though there is an entire living room ten feet away?
Those questions may not sound glamorous.
But answering them well is good design.
A kitchen should be beautiful enough to make you happy when you walk into it and practical enough that you're never afraid to actually cook dinner there.
The Bathroom Is Becoming a Retreat
Bathrooms used to be one of those rooms where we chose the tile, selected a vanity, hung a mirror and called it finished.
Not anymore.
We are finally treating bathrooms like rooms.
And I love it.
Beautiful sconces. Framed mirrors. Warm metals. Artwork. Interesting cabinetry. Natural stone. Layered lighting. Soft textiles. A stool beside the tub. Even something as simple as a beautiful runner can completely change how the room feels.
The goal isn't necessarily to make your bathroom look like a hotel.
Actually, I think it's better when it doesn't.
It should feel like your retreat.
A place where you can close the door for twenty minutes at the end of a long day and feel like the rest of the world has gotten just a little quieter.
That kind of luxury has very little to do with square footage.
The Living Room Doesn't Need a Matching Set
This may be one of my favorite shifts.
We are loosening up a little.
The sofa doesn't need to match the chairs.
The side tables don't need to match each other.
Every piece of wood in the room doesn't need to be the same color.
In fact, I usually prefer when they aren't.
A beautiful living room can have an upholstered sofa, a leather chair, an old wood table, a stone lamp, linen drapery and a completely different metal on the light fixture.
What makes the room work isn't that everything matches.
It's that everything relates.
There is a difference.
When you stop trying to make every piece coordinate perfectly, a room begins to feel much more natural.
And usually much more interesting.
The Bedroom Is Getting Quieter
I don't mean quieter in color—although it certainly can be.
I mean quieter in purpose.
Bedrooms have spent years collecting things they don't necessarily need.
Too many decorative pillows.
Too much furniture.
Too many accessories sitting on every available surface.
I'm finding myself wanting bedrooms to breathe again.
Give me beautiful bedding.
Wonderful drapery hung high.
A comfortable rug underfoot.
Good bedside lighting.
A chair you will actually sit in.
A piece of art you genuinely love.
And then maybe…stop.
Not every corner needs something in it.
Sometimes luxury is simply having enough visual quiet to exhale.
We're Finally Designing the Forgotten Rooms
This one makes me particularly happy.
Laundry rooms.
Mudrooms.
Hallways.
Powder rooms.
Pantries.
Entryways.
For years, these were often treated as the leftover spaces of a home.
Now we're realizing something:
We use them constantly.
If I walk through my laundry room every single day, why shouldn't it be beautiful?
If the mudroom is the first thing my family sees when we come home, shouldn't it function well?
If every guest uses the powder room, why not have a little fun with it?
Some of the smallest rooms in a house are actually the best places to take a design risk.
Use the wallpaper.
Paint the cabinetry.
Hang the unusual light fixture.
Put art in the hallway.
Give the laundry room the pretty hardware.
You don't have to save all the beautiful things for the rooms other people see.
Maybe Luxury Has Changed
I think this is really what all of these changes come down to.
Our definition of luxury is changing.
Luxury isn't necessarily the most expensive marble.
It isn't having the largest kitchen.
It isn't filling a room with designer furniture.
And it certainly isn't creating a home you're afraid to live in.
Luxury might be opening a drawer and finding exactly what you need because someone thought carefully about where it should go.
It's lighting that changes the feeling of a room at night.
It's drapery that softens the afternoon sun.
It's a bathroom that makes your morning feel a little less rushed.
It's a kitchen where six people can somehow gather around an island meant for four.
It's a living room where everyone actually wants to sit.
Those things aren't particularly flashy.
But they make everyday life better.
And isn't that what our homes are supposed to do?
Design for the Life Happening Inside
I still want the beautiful kitchen.
I still want the gorgeous stone, the wonderful lighting, the perfectly scaled furniture and the details that make you stop for a second when you enter a room.
I'll probably always want those things.
But I want something else too.
I want the house to work on a random Tuesday morning.
I want it to work when company comes over unexpectedly.
I want it to survive kids, dogs, groceries, laundry, holidays, homework, wet towels, morning coffee and the occasional pile of things that somehow appears at the bottom of the stairs.
Because those aren't interruptions to life in a beautiful home.
That is life in a beautiful home.
Maybe the most exciting shift happening in design isn't a particular color, material or style at all.
Maybe we're simply beginning to ask a better question.
Not:
“Will this photograph beautifully?”
But:
“Will we love living here?”
As a designer, I think that may be one of the best changes we've made.
"May your home always be a place where stories are gathered, seasons are celebrated and the porch light is left on a little longer."
— Melissa LaRosa
Melissa LaRosa Interiors