For nearly a decade, the Hudson Valley was branded with a singular, somewhat reductive label: “The New Brooklyn.” It was meant as a compliment—a nod to the influx of artisanal coffee, reclaimed wood, and minimalist aesthetics. But as we enter 2026, a quiet rebellion is taking place inside the most storied homes from Beacon to Big Indian.
The “Un-Brooklyn” Manifesto: Why the Next Era of Hudson Valley Interior Design is Leaving the City Behind – by Maxwell Alexander MA(FIT)/BFA(SVA)
The era of “Brooklynized” interior design—defined by stark white walls, mass-produced mid-century replicas, and sterile minimalism—is officially over. Having spent my graduate years at FIT studying the psychology of Experiential Design, I was trained to believe that immersive storytelling was reserved for high-stakes environments: branded flagship stores, museum galleries, and elite hospitality. But today, the most exciting frontier for experiential design isn’t a trade show—it’s the Hudson Valley home.
The End of the White Oak Aesthetic
We have reached “peak Scandi.” For years, the “Airbnb look” dominated the region—pale white oak floors, wire-thin furniture, and a fear of shadows. It was a design language of erasure, meant to make city transplants feel safe by stripping away the “grit” of the country.
But true interior design is about resonance, not comfort. We are now seeing a pivot toward Hudson River Gothic and Dark Academica. We are trading the “light and airy” for the “deep and storied.” I’m seeing homeowners embrace moody, saturated palettes—think forest greens so dark they’re almost black, and oxblood reds that evoke the 19th-century naturalist movement. These are rooms that demand you sit, think, and linger. They don’t look like a West Elm catalog; they look like they belong to a collector who spent decades scouring the antique rows of Hudson and Millbrook for heavy, hand-carved mahogany that actually has a soul.
The “Terroir” of Interior Design
In the world of experiential design, we talk about “sensory mapping.” A space should tell you exactly where you are the moment you cross the threshold. This is what I call the Terroir of Design.
Just as a fine wine tastes of the soil it grew in, a Hudson Valley home should feel like it was birthed from the Shawangunk ridge or the Catskill silt. In my recent photoshoots across the region—from modern-rustic farmhouses in Saugerties to historic estates in Rhinebeck—the shift is clear. We are moving away from global supply chains and toward local resources.
We are seeing interior design anchored by local bluestone hearths, hand-milled timber from fallen trees on the property, and “found object” art. It’s no longer about what you can order online; it’s about what you can forage, reclaim, and commission from the artisan down the road.
The Urban Cowboy Influence: Narrative Hospitality at Home
If you want to see this philosophy in its most potent form, look at the Urban Cowboy Lodge in the Catskills. When I photographed the Lodge for Hudson Valley Style Magazine, I recognized it immediately as a masterclass in narrative-driven interior design.
The Lodge doesn’t just provide a room; it provides an odyssey. From the moment the air—subtly perfumed with smoky sage—hits you, you are part of a story. This is the “Bath Culture” I’ve been championing. In my photography, the copper clawfoot tubs aren’t just plumbing fixtures; they are altars of wellness. This is experiential design at its best: taking a functional necessity and turning it into a ritual.
We are seeing this movement take root in private residences across the region, where the boundaries between sanctuary and studio have completely dissolved. Hudson Valley and Catskills homeowners are ditching the sterile, ‘spa-like’ glass showers of the city for massive, wood-clad bathing sanctuaries that serve as both a site for restoration and a spark for intellectual labor.
I find that much of my own creative work and writing happens in these exact environments—seated at a rustic oak desk just steps from a soaking tub, under the warm glow of custom-crafted light fixtures that cast dramatic, intentional shadows. It is in these textured, quiet spaces that the most profound ideas are born, proving that the modern Upstate home is no longer just a place to live, but a masterpiece of experiential design where one can truly think, create, and exist.
New Social Status Symbols: Nano-Localism
The “flex” has changed. In 2026, having a Peloton in your barn is no longer a status symbol—it’s a relic of a time when we tried to bring the gym to the woods. The new status symbol is Nano-localism.
It’s the “Working Kitchen.” We are seeing a move away from “Show Kitchens” with pristine marble that never sees a drop of oil. Instead, the most stylish homes are designing kitchens meant for labor: built-in stone mills for grinding local flour, fermentation stations, copper backsplashes for inspired cooking, and even home nano-distilling setups—a major trend this year. The luxury isn’t in the brand of the stove; it’s in the fact that the sourdough on your table was grown, milled, and baked within your own four walls.
Meaning Over Minimal: The Resurgence of Narrative Maximalism
If the “Un-Brooklyn” movement is the philosophy, then Maximalism is the vibrant language it speaks. For too long, we’ve been told that “less is more,” but in the context of experiential interior design, we are realizing that “more” is actually how we tell our stories. As I’ve explored in my previous articles on why maximalism is making interiors personal again, this isn’t about clutter; it’s about curation. It’s the art of letting your home breathe with the weight of your memories and the vibrancy of your real, messy, human life.
In my graduate studies at FIT, we looked at how environments can trigger emotional responses through layers of texture and color. This is why Maximalism is the natural successor to the sterile “beige barrier” of the past decade. It’s a design rebellion where complexity is welcome and emotion is the ultimate accessory. Whether it’s a gallery wall of childhood drawings, antique maps from a trip to Hudson, or handmade ceramics from a local artisan, every object carries weight. This design style invites you to use what you have, honor where you’re from, and create with intention—turning a house from a static set into a dynamic, living sanctuary.
The Call to Action: Embrace the Wild, Weird, and Weathered
My challenge to you, as both a designer and a resident of this beautiful valley, is this: Stop trying to make the Hudson Valley look like New York City.
The city is a place of polish; the Valley is a place of patina. If a floor creaks, let it. If a stone is weathered, celebrate it. When you approach your next interior design project, ask yourself: What story am I telling? Is it a story of a transplant trying to keep the mud off their boots, or is it a story of someone who has finally come home to the wild?
It’s time to leave the white oak behind. Let’s get a little darker, a little weirder, and a lot more authentic.
Would you like to see how Maxwell Alexander captures the soul of the Hudson Valley and Catskills through his lens? Explore the full photo gallery of the Urban Cowboy Lodge and discover how to bring the “Un-Brooklyn” aesthetic into your own space.
