Maximalism: Why More Is More

Updated October 2026.

For years, design trends have repeated the same mantra: less is more. White walls. Capsule wardrobes. Shelves styled with three coffee table books, a ceramic vase and a candle nobody dares to light. Minimalism is about control: clean lines, muted tones and furniture placed just so.

Maximalism is a different mood altogether. It’s a home layered with art, travel and history, the kind you walk into and immediately feel that someone actually lives there. That painting on the wall? Found at a flea market, still carrying the scent of old books. The twenty or so candle holders in every shade imaginable? Collected from different cities, each one tied to a moment. The bold rug? Another flea market find that somehow just works.

Maximalism is about more: more colour, more story, more curiosity and more of you.

Curation, not chaos

Some people think maximalism is an excuse to pile up things until your keys, your floor and maybe your sanity disappear. It isn’t. Maximalism is curation. Museums aren’t messy, and good maximalist homes aren’t either. Every piece is there because it means something.

If it doesn’t spark a memory, an emotion or a conversation, it doesn’t belong.

Jackinna of All Trades

I’m quite a detailed person, and I like things to have their place. That doesn’t mean I want empty white walls staring back at me. I feel at home with layers, colours and meaningful objects.

My absolute nightmare? A home where the dining table vanished long ago beneath a mountain of “souvenirs”, finding a pen requires an archaeological dig, and sitting on the couch means relocating five pillows, three jackets and a cat that may or may not belong to you.

Maximalism? Love it. Chaos? Absolutely not.

It started with palaces

Maximalism is nothing new. In 17th century Europe, Baroque design brought painted ceilings, huge chandeliers, rich velvets and colourful tapestries. Think of Versailles and Louis XIV, who didn’t simply decorate rooms. He made them look like him. According to Christie’s, people have long used lavish interiors to show status: the more lavish the space, the more power it projected.

Today, maximalism is less about power and more about personality.

Textures and patterns

Maximalist interiors don’t whisper. They shout, in a good way. Velvet, woven fabrics, glossy ceramics and old wood give a space its soul, and patterns bring the rhythm. A bold floral print next to a geometric rug. A silky throw on a vintage leather armchair. Nothing has to match, as long as the pieces get along.

One of my favourite places in Tallinn is the Asian restaurant Tai Boh. The food and drinks are great (their mojitos are lovely), but I go just as much for the surroundings: bold, playful and full of personality.

It doesn’t have to be expensive

One of the biggest myths about maximalism is that it’s about overspending. Price tags have very little to do with it. Personality has everything to do with it. A maximalist space can be thrifted, gifted, handmade or found at a flea market on a rainy afternoon. What matters is that each piece means something to you.

A peek into my home

My home is full of colours, textures and objects that mean something. Take my colourful candles in a vase: swirled and splattered wax in every shade that makes me smile. Tiny pieces of art, playfully mismatched.

Then there’s my cabinet, turned from plain white into a warm rose gold. Let’s be honest, white was never going to survive in my world. Add velvet pillows in burnt orange, metallic details that catch the light and a big abstract painting on the wall, and the room feels like home without ever being predictable.

There’s more to show, but maximalism is never rushed. It’s collected, curated and always evolving.

Life isn’t minimal. It’s complex, chaotic and beautiful, and I intend to live it that way: loud, layered and unmistakably mine.

Are you team less or team more? Tell me in the comments.