milano design week 2026: salone del mobile

milano design week 2026: salone del mobile

The return of the Bathroom Halls at Salone del Mobile brought a familiar energy; busy, considered, and full of intent. A slower kind of observation, where materiality, ritual and detail take precedence. The biennial International Bathroom Exhibition returned from 21–26 April, bringing the bathroom back into focus as a space of sustainability, surfaces, composition and atmosphere. (Salone del Mobile Milano)

But the real rhythm of the week sat beyond the fair.

Milan itself continues to be the source. The moments between destinations. The unexpected and the planned, held in equal weight.

Capsule Plaza at Via Achille Maiocchi felt like one of the clearest expressions of this. Set within a restored former industrial space, later used as a gym and swimming pool, the venue carried its history visibly, not polished away, but layered into the experience. For 2026, Capsule framed the programme around “Design State of Mind”, bringing together interiors, fashion, craft, hospitality and culture in a format that sat somewhere between fair, exhibition and social meeting point. (Capsule)

The lineup carried real weight: Stone Island “No Seasons”, Karimoku Research with Waka Waka, Lichen, Devon Turnbull and Postalco, Bolon with Martino Gamper, Noo.ma with Just An Idea Books, and more. Each installation offered a different pace, a different way of thinking. This is where the pulse is. Where ideas feel immediate. Where the week sharpens. (Capsule)

Stone Island’s “No Seasons” was particularly strong, a return to Massimo Osti’s late-1980s concept of design outside trend cycles. Presented through material, repetition and touch, it felt less like a fashion installation and more like an archive of technical thinking brought into the present. (Stone Island Design Week)

A visit to the C.P. Company showroom revealed a more introspective layer. Their collaboration with Alessi brought together two Italian legacies: one rooted in garment dyeing, utility and subculture; the other in domestic objects, metalwork and industrial design. The project reworked Alessi icons, Richard Sapper’s 9090 espresso maker, Jean Nouvel’s cups and Enzo Mari’s Arran tray, through sandblasted black PVD finishes designed to mark, age and develop patina through use. (Wallpaper*)

Alongside them sat C.P. Company’s Nylon B overshirts in new shades drawn from experimental research into colour and finish, with references to Officina Alessi work uniforms. It was a collaboration about wear, surface and time. Not pristine objects, but objects and garments designed to gather evidence of use. Lab-based, experimental, almost archival in tone. A quiet but deliberate exploration of research, function and subculture. (Wallpaper*)

A personal highlight sat quietly within the Triennale.

A return to the work of Ray and Charles Eames, a practice I first experienced firsthand at the Eames House in Venice Beach back in 2019. To encounter it again, this time reframed through a modular, full-scale architectural system, felt significant.

Rather than a replica, the exhibition unfolded as something more expansive. A series of life-sized pavilion structures, built on the logic of the original Case Study House, explored prefabrication, flexibility and human-scale living.

It wasn’t about nostalgia. It was about continuity.

The Eames Pavilion System, developed with Kettal, translated their original thinking into something current: a kit-of-parts architecture built around repeatable modules, adaptable layouts and material systems designed to evolve over time. 

Standing within it, you’re reminded that the Eames House was never meant to be a fixed icon. It was always a prototype. A way of living.

To experience that logic again, at full scale, was quietly powerful. A human-scale reminder of what modernism set out to be, and still can be.

Elsewhere, moments arrived unannounced. A Porsche 356 Carrera GTL Zagato “Sanction Lost”, placed almost casually within a piazza, a reminder that design, at its best, doesn’t need to announce itself.

The structure of the days remained simple. Early morning runs through Giardini Pubblici Indro Montanelli, the city still settling. Espresso at Monocle, who had taken over Balay with a reading room café, part coffee spot, part curated space, with La Marzocco coffee, good reads, Salone print, Tino Seubert seating and a steady flow of design conversation. (Monocle)

Evenings shifted pace. Maoji became the go-to, low-key, full of life, and exactly what was needed before drinks. Bold, generous food. Shared plates. No over-designing, just flavour and energy.

And then, inevitably, Bar Basso. A constant. A 79-year-old Milan institution and birthplace of the Negroni Sbagliato, where the design community continues to gather during Salone. Inside, shoulder to shoulder at the bar; outside, the crowd spilling onto the street, oversized pink drinks in hand. Less about refinement, more about atmosphere. Milan at its most alive.

This year, the temperature shifted. Clear skies, 25 degrees, a softer edge to the city. Milan in spring, at its most open.

A week where design extends beyond objects and into atmosphere, routine, and rhythm.