Minimalism may have reigned for a decade, but in 2026, kitsch is firmly back wearing the crown. Navigating neon palm trees and marble lions, among other showstoppers, Norman Cescut, founder and CEO of Desita, talks us through this cultural swing back to excess.

For over a decade, minimalism dominated hospitality design. From polished concrete floors and neutral palettes to quiet, disciplined restraint, the mantra “less is more” shaped not just interiors but entire experiences. Additionally, it promised sophistication, control and universality. Yet, like all cultural paradigms, minimalism eventually reached its limits. The world was craving intensity. Consequently, hospitality has responded, embracing maximalism not as a nostalgic homage but as an intentional, theatrical and emotionally charged counterpoint to years of restraint.

Deliberate design language

Neon flamingos, velvet banquettes, gold accents, marble lions and fringed chandeliers are not mere decor. Rather, they are a deliberate design language. Moreover, they signal audacity and invite guests to inhabit a space that is unapologetically expressive. In a landscape flattened by algorithm-driven uniformity, maximalist interiors inject personality, drama and memorability. Intriguingly, they are also a tangible antidote to a decade of digital sameness, reminding us that spaces can evoke emotion, tell stories and create experiences worth remembering. Hospitality, in this sense, is no longer just functional. Instead, it is performative.

Maximalism’s return reflects a broader cultural shift. Significantly, the public has grown weary of subtlety that borders on sterility. Consumers, influenced by social media, global travel and a relentless visual diet, now seek environments that stimulate the senses and surprise the mind. In short, they want restaurants that do not whisper but perform. This movement is a cultural correction, a declaration that emotional intensity has regained its place at the heart of hospitality design.

The psychology of abundance

Crucially, maximalism resonates because it taps into deep psychological patterns. In periods of uncertainty, be it economic turbulence, social instability or global crises, visual abundance communicates reassurance. Bright colors, eclectic objects and layered textures suggest generosity, optimism and security. This phenomenon mirrors the well-known “lipstick effect.” Even when people tighten budgets, they are willing to spend on small indulgences that make them feel richer, happier and more alive.

In hospitality, this translates into a hunger for environments that envelop rather than simply accommodate. Guests no longer seek quiet neutrality. Instead, they seek immersion. Maximalist spaces are designed to transport the senses, allowing visitors to momentarily escape the external pressures of everyday life. Humor, scale and dramatic contrasts all contribute to this emotional cocoon. In this context, the value of design is not only aesthetic. In addition, it is psychological, creating an experience that is simultaneously indulgent, comforting and memorable. Importantly, maximalism is not frivolous; it is profoundly human, answering a latent desire for pleasure, surprise and delight.

Restaurants as theater

Maximalist restaurants increasingly function as stages, with every element contributing to a larger narrative. Lighting, fabrics, soundscapes, furniture, staff uniforms and service choreography collectively form a theatrical mise-en-scène. Venues like Sexy Fish in London, Bacchanalia in Mayfair, Sukaru Ba in Italy or The Nice Guy in Los Angeles exemplify this paradigm. Here, dining is not merely consumption but performance, and the space itself is a protagonist.

This shift has clear business implications. Spectacular design extends dwell time, elevates perceived value and fosters repeat visits. Guests arrive earlier, linger longer and spend more. In a world of tightening margins, memorable environments

convert directly into revenue. Minimalism sold discretion; maximalism sells memory. The interior becomes a strategic asset, a storytelling tool that generates social proof, press coverage and digital visibility. When executed with care, excess becomes coherent, intentional and economically productive. Without narrative depth, even the most opulent space risks being perceived as chaotic rather than compelling.

Maximalism, therefore, is both art and strategy. It requires investment, but it yields returns in the form of emotional engagement, brand recognition and market differentiation. It is a model in which design and commerce are inseparable, a lesson for hospitality operators navigating an increasingly competitive global market.

The attention economy

In the era of social media, visual distinction is not optional. Rather, it is a survival mechanism. Restaurants must compete for attention in crowded digital feeds as much as for foot traffic. Maximalist design inherently generates “shareable moments”: high-contrast interiors, playful juxtapositions and immersive vignettes that photograph effortlessly. Gen Z, in particular, increasingly selects venues based on their visual appeal online. Research from Datassential (2024) indicates that over 70 percent of young diners consider imagery and ambiance as decisive factors in their choices.

Spectacle meets substance

This attention-driven logic has fueled what can be termed “experience inflation”: each new venue feels compelled to outdo the last in visual drama. Yet, maximalism works best when it is authentic, intentional and narratively coherent. Environments designed merely for Instagram may succeed in generating likes, but they rarely produce enduring emotional impact. The most successful examples strike a delicate balance between spectacle and substance, using visual boldness to amplify rather than replace storytelling.

In this sense, maximalism is not only a design philosophy but a marketing strategy embedded within operational reality. It transforms the restaurant from a service environment into a cultural and digital asset, capable of delivering value both in person and through mediated experiences.

Sincere excess and authenticity

Perhaps the most defining aspect of contemporary maximalism is its sincerity. After years of highly curated feeds, digital perfection and performative minimalism, consumers increasingly seek environments that feel alive, imperfect and emotionally truthful. The current wave draws on the visual languages of the 1980s and 1990s, decades marked by unapologetic self-expression and exuberance. This combination of nostalgia and honesty resonates because it mirrors a broader cultural desire for authenticity.

Designers merge pop-culture references with classical grandeur—Miami Vice pastels alongside Roman-inspired opulence—to create spaces that are simultaneously playful and majestic. Kitsch, once dismissed as bad taste, has been reframed as honest emotion. A neon palm tree or a marble lion is not trying to appear sophisticated; it celebrates its own excess. This transparency, paradoxically, feels more authentic than the sterile perfection of minimalism. Maximalism today succeeds not because it is loud but because it is layered, curated and emotionally resonant. It is dramatic without losing its humanity.

The future of experiential dining

From a strategic standpoint, maximalism is not a fleeting trend. Rather, it is a recalibration of how hospitality creates value. The industry is moving from functional spaces to narrative ecosystems, where architecture, service and storytelling converge to produce emotional capital. The operators who will thrive are those capable of transforming audacious design into coherent brand narratives. Excess is not noise. Instead, it is currency, provided it is purposeful, curated and deeply human.

Memorability, in the modern hospitality landscape, is the most valuable asset. Maximalism, when executed with intention, creates not only visual impact but long-term engagement, repeat visitation and emotional loyalty. It is a design language that bridges pleasure, commerce and culture. In my view, the future of experiential dining belongs to those who understand that authenticity can be exuberant, that boldness can be coherent and that a little well-crafted madness is precisely what makes a restaurant unforgettable.