Design Trends Stylists Advise Experimenting With

You know what’s weird? Everyone talks about “investment pieces,” but nobody wants to mention the risky trends that make you second-guess everything six months later. Stylists push “timeless” but ignore the stuff that actually stresses people out.

Open Shelving Risks and Rewards

Open shelves in kitchens—why is this still a thing? Looks cool, but you end up dusting jars and staring at clutter. I tried it; just felt tired of cleaning. Designers like Elaine Brooks say open shelves only work if you’re obsessive. Did you know 67% of people regretted ditching their upper cabinets? I always tell people, keep open shelves away from grease zones—coffee nook, fine, but not above the stove.

One or two shelves for display is fine—show off your one nice thing, not the entire contents of Target. Of course, you’ll end up buying matching jars you never use. Not exactly sustainable. If you’re going to try it, treat shelves like a rotating display, not permanent storage. And if you need a ladder every time you want the blender, you’ve gone too far.

Mixing Uniqueness With Trends

Why does everyone think “unique” means “throw everything together”? I’ve seen so many thrift finds jammed next to the latest trending sofa—usually looks like chaos. Anna Sheridan says modular sofas stick around, but the real magic is in weird accents—handmade ceramics, oddball art, stuff you actually care about.

All the pros I know say trends should be the background, not the whole room. Add in your own oddities—travel textiles, a lamp with a story—so it doesn’t look like a showroom. Last time I tried mixing in a unique piece, I wrote myself a note: “If it looks weird, wait a week.” Sometimes you just need to get used to it. Still, I end up moving the same antique stool around every week, hoping it’ll finally look right.

Sourcing and Showcasing Oversized Furniture

Why does everyone freak out about big sofas in small rooms? Honestly, I keep seeing designers panic about aesthetics, but sometimes you just need a giant couch. Last fall, I spent hours arguing with a supplier who said a 110-inch sectional couldn’t be shipped. Sourcing is chaos—lead times jump from “six weeks if you risk it” to “six months unless you’re a hotel.” The right piece can totally change a room, but nobody warns you that dragging it upstairs might end a friendship.

Choosing the Right Scale

Okay, so, “just use a tape measure”—that’s what every realtor chirps, like it’s that simple. It’s not. Picking out big furniture is a whole event. You have to obsess over entryways, those weird hallway turns, and, oh, the architectural nonsense nobody mentions (radiators, random slants, weird moldings). I almost bought this Italian sofa for a client—gorgeous, made me jealous, but three inches too wide for the elevator. The freight guy literally laughed at me. Humiliating.

Manufacturers won’t shut up about “statement pieces,” but good luck finding one you can actually test in a showroom. Outlook International’s designers love sending out these cautionary emails (which, let’s be honest, I barely skim) about crate sizes and import codes. They’re not wrong, though: if you don’t measure everything—including the elevator and the stairwell—you’ll end up trying to wedge a nine-foot hutch past a banister on a Friday night. My contractor once had to take a door off its hinges because I got cocky. That’s $300 I’ll never see again.

Optimizing Space With Statement Pieces

My best friend bought this dinner table so massive you needed yoga training just to get around it. I’ve made that mistake, too—three times, actually, with credenzas. Oversized pieces can be brilliant, but only if you actually plan for them. I’m obsessed with negative space—like, I will measure out that 18-24″ walkway before I even think about where the sofa goes. Only after that do I add storage ottomans or those floating bookshelves that don’t eat up the floor.

Ken Shanks from Outlook International keeps repeating, “Big pieces force you to edit.” He’s right. If you don’t curate, everything clashes, and suddenly your fancy showpiece looks like an accident. Twelve-foot velvet chaise? No clue who needs that, but sometimes, with the right rug and a basket or two, it just works. Plants? Only fake ones near statement pieces—real ones leave stains, and I’m not about that life. Mirrors across from huge furniture? Genius, but if you don’t check for weird reflections or glare, you’ll regret it. I’ve seen it. Messy, but sort of hilarious.

Integrating Investment Choices Into Outdoor Spaces

Nobody tells you mineral sunscreen turns into cement on your face at a teak table, or that bargain benches just rot after one storm. Not every “investment piece” is a velvet sofa, right? If you cheap out on outdoor stuff, you’re basically buying landfill. Rust, mildew, regret. Designers keep saying ROI isn’t just about looks—weather-resistance and curb appeal actually matter.

Durable Materials for the Outdoors

Watching my neighbor toss another warped bench onto the curb, I always wonder why anyone still buys untreated wood. Composite, powder-coated aluminum, polywood—these things last. Houzz says 63% of homeowners would redo their patios with better materials if they could. I write down brands: marine-grade stainless, certain treated hardwoods. Otherwise, you’re just rebuying every two years.

Resin blends get better every year, but nobody advertises that. Instead, people buy whatever’s cheap, and then their cushions get moldy. I’ve had that happen—the smell is next-level bad. Sunbrella covers? Just throw them in the wash, easy. Hardware matters, too. If it’s not stainless or zinc, you’ll spend half the summer hunting for wrenches because your chairs keep falling apart.

Enhancing Curb Appeal

Everyone’s obsessed with hydrangea hedges and symmetrical planters. But did you know 97% of realtors say outdoor spaces decide if buyers even stop the car? Patios, decks, pergolas—sure, but lighting is the real MVP. Five LED bollards do more than a row of sad shrubs. I got a quote for a stone firepit once—felt like a scam—but the appraiser said it added more value than repainting my kitchen. Go figure.

IPE and redwood get all the hype for that silvery patina, but honestly, clean planters and a new mailbox get noticed first. Someone told me to put down fake turf for “low maintenance”—nope. Those things turn neon green and look radioactive after one summer. I’ve seen it. Yikes.