Milan 2026. I arrived at Design Week with something close to optimism. A deliberate decision, really — to believe this would be a good week. Here is the first part of my reporting.
Why the optimism effort? Because I can be a bit grumpy. Milan is the most important design week in the world, which inevitably raises expectations. I usually arrive in full search mode, moving from one exhibition to the next, and quite often leave feeling slightly underwhelmed — and definitely exhausted. Too much noise, too many impressions, and not enough that truly feels new.
This year, I tried a different approach. More open. More positive. Yay.
I landed with a list of 109 events and exhibitions across Fuorisalone. Nobody really knows the exact number of shows in the city. Ask ChatGPT and it will tell you there were over 1,000 events in 2025. The fair itself hosts nearly 2,000 exhibitors.
I’ll report from Milan in three parts: first, an overview of shifting values. Then new styles, materials and colour directions. And finally, form and design language.
But to stay with the optimistic tone: Milan 2026 felt easier. More structured. Queues were better organised, and key destinations — like Alcova returning to the city — made navigation simpler. Even the PR machinery seemed slightly more aware of flow and fatigue.
Still, what stood out most was a growing willingness to experiment with taste. Not always elegant. Often messy. Sometimes even ugly. But alive. Expansive. Beyond the safe and commercial. I prefer that. Not everything needs to be aligned — taste should be plural.
Everything is design
My friend Elisabetta at Italianbark recently published a ten-year reflection on Milan Design Week. She’s been attending for a decade. I’ve been coming for almost twenty.
Looking back, I remember when fashion brands first began appearing. A few installations at Louis Vuitton, Loewe showing stone and leather in 2021. Small gestures then. Now, almost every fashion house is present. Even H&M Home made its debut this year.
So, the design week now comfortably includes interiors and fashion. Is that a good thing? Or not?
The next layer, already established, is automotive. Lexus was early, back in 2005, but today Milan is also a car show.
After that, beauty entered the scene — almost an extension of fashion. This year: Aesop, Byredo, Le Labo, among others.
And then food. Always next. We’ve already seen Barilla experiment with 3D-printed pasta. This year, McDonald’s appeared in Tortona. The question is obvious: who’s next?
So, Milan Design Week is no longer just sofas and chairs. It’s fashion, cars, beauty, food — and everything in between.
One could call this democratic. And if I stay with my optimistic lens, perhaps it is: anything can be design. Still, with so much expansion, there’s a lingering question of whether we are slowly drifting away from the things that once defined it.
DEI
Will design ever have its own Bad Bunny? Possibly. DEI — Diversity, Equity and Inclusion — has become a visible cultural force, reflecting a wider demand for representation and new voices. The opposite of Trump administration.
Just before the week started, there was also social media backlash around Capsule and accusations of misogyny — a reminder that questions of representation are no longer peripheral.
From a more positive angle, it’s encouraging to see collaborations like Knoll working with Nigerian artist Dozie Kanu, Veuve Clicquot with Yinka Ilori, and Ai Weiwei contributing a textile piece for Rubelli. Korean Kwangho Lee continues to gain global visibility, this year with Bottega Veneta. Jorge Suárez Kilzi stood out at Alcova, while Fernando Laposse, Mexican continues his rise. Lebanese Lina Ghotmeh delivered a major installation at Palazzo Litta, and Khaled El Mays showed at Nilufar Depot.
But still — where are the women? Where is the Turkish equivalent of Patricia Urquiola, or the Argentinian version of Faye Toogood?
It’s also interesting how many male designers within LGBTQ circles are well represented — Formafantasma, Dimore Studio, Sebastian Herkner among them. But women designers flirting with women still feel less visible.
So yes, 2026 feels like a step forward for DEI. But not quite enough.
Eastern Europe
Eastern Europe felt more present this year — and I separate this from DEI, as it remains largely male-dominated and very white.
The exhibition Polish Modernism – A Struggle for Beauty, produced by the Visteria Foundation, was a standout. Prostoria revisited Vjenceslav Richter from Croatia. Marcin Rusak continues to grow in recognition, while Pani Jurek’s installation at Alcova was one of the strongest. Mati Sipiora is clearly one to watch, and Lara Bohinc — Slovenian, London-based — continues to evolve her practice. Uzbekistan design also had one of the most memorable presentations of the week.
A clear sense of momentum.
Dreams
Staying with optimism — last year’s surrealism theme continues, though this edition felt softer. Less dystopian. More playful. Some have called it an “Alice in Wonderland” turn.
There is still plenty of Freudian symbolism: doors everywhere, like at Rossana Orlandi or Convey’s cabinets. Fabio Novembre’s giant baby at Bisazza, Laila Gohar’s vegetable carousels for Arket, and the life-sized elephant at Deoron all point in the same direction.
Then there’s Gentle Monster’s octopus on Corso Como, or Matteo Cibic’s Floresta Futuristica at Senator Hotel.
Why this return to dream logic? Perhaps the same escapism we see in nostalgia — but in a softer, cuter register. “Cute” might be the keyword of the year.
The 1%
Finally, the strongest tension.
I began by suggesting Milan feels more democratised. But there is another reality running in parallel: a design world increasingly oriented towards extreme wealth.
This is not just luxury. It is beyond the 1%. It is design that exists almost entirely outside everyday life.
Nilufar Gallery is a clear example — nothing there is really intended for serial production. Everything is rare, expensive, collectible. The same feeling came from Fornasetti’s glass cabinets: exquisite, but distant.
Fashion houses such as Louis Vuitton and Hermès naturally operate in this space. So do collaborations like Luke Edward Hall with Buccellati, creating objects such as caviar bowls that sit firmly in another economic universe. And of course Artemest.
And now – even the fair has a section where they want to push collectible, exclusive and expensive pieces that no one can afford. What happened if we pushed affordable design??
At the same time, it makes the presence of brands like IKEA and H&M Home feel even more important. Design does not only need to be exclusive. It also needs to be accessible.
And perhaps that remains the real question behind Milan Design Week: who is design actually for?
We continue looking at more trends tomorrow.