A movie sequel rarely lives up to the first – and riffs on design trends almost never outdo the original. But Molly Kidd’s Oregon living room might be the rare exception. The designer takes the warm minimalism wave that crested around 2023 and deepens one of its core tenets: texture.
Inside her woodland home, the palette isn’t plucked from a paint deck but from the land itself, layering warm whites, mushroom, olive, and soft brown. It’s nuanced, but as Molly notes, the difference between warmth and regular minimalist sterility lies entirely in texture. Think linen that wrinkles just so, or the divots in an antique ceramic.
‘Warm minimalism, to me, is about restraint with emotion,’ says the designer. ‘It honors negative space and clean lines, but it never forgets that people live here – that rooms are meant to share stories and have that feeling of invitation. Where traditional minimalism can feel contemporary and polished – white walls, steel, glass, and very little softness – warm minimalism leans into imperfection.’
Now that autumn’s fully arrived, it’s easy to reduce texture to a woven brocade or mohair throw. Not wrong, but Molly pushes the idea further. In the Molly Kidd Studio universe, texture is what happens when things actually age, when they’ve lived a little. ‘It’s linen instead of lacquer, patina instead of shine, drenched rooms instead of stark contrast,’ she says.
‘It’s about sensory quiet,’ Molly continues of her sanctuary-like space. ‘When you pair back, every texture, scent, and bit of light matters more. You notice how morning light hits a misty plastered wall or how a chair’s upholstery feels under your hand. There’s still discipline in the editing, but it’s softened by humanity.’
And that’s the difference. ‘Cool minimalism tells you not to touch; warm minimalism invites you in, hands you a cup of tea, and asks you to stay awhile,’ she muses. It’s a slower, more soulful sort of minimalism, anchored by pieces that feel essential rather than purely decorative or of-the-moment. ‘Those antiques, those treasures from sacred memories, become the punctuation marks in a calm, neutral room. They remind you that simplicity doesn’t mean emptiness; it means intention.’
For Molly, those punctuation marks take shape in a vintage monochromatic still life and the raised ridges of a patinated silver vessel – objects chosen as much for their texture as their aura. Because, as she puts it, it all starts with intention.
Shop six texture-rich finds inspired by Molly’s Oregon living room to finally nail warm minimalism – and make a case for the rare sequel that really is better than the first.
99.9% of the time, when we talk about texture, we mean something you can touch, but this acrylic still-life print stands as an anomaly. It captures the same tonal subtlety as the piece above, Molly’s Danish mid-century sideboard, its 'brushstrokes' adding the illusion of depth. Elevate this tactile effect with an aged brass frame.
Pulling from the olive-upholstered armchairs in Molly’s warm minimalist living room, this velvet ottoman by NYC-based designer Brett Beldock channels a similarly grounded kind of glamour. The sculptural deco base nods to another era, while the irregular black frame appears as if it were hand-forged.
A minimalist pillow usually takes the form of something smooth, such as cotton or silk. But warm minimalism calls for friction, and linen – which is imperfect and gets better with time – is just the thing. Also a reminder that the breezy material isn’t just for summer, pair it with weathered walnut, mushroom velvet, and a wool rug for dimension.
This small wooden mirror echoes Molly’s antique mantel decor find. The inset panel can stay bare, hold an object, or frame whatever you want to live there. That freedom – that human trace – is the heartbeat of warm minimalism.
This silver-plated footed bowl is so richly patinaed it almost reads as brass, much like the vintage piece resting on the small wooden side table in Molly’s living room. True to her minimalist sensibility, it’s left completely unstyled, the emptiness giving the imperfections room to speak for themselves.
You’ll also spot moments in Molly’s space where tone gives way to translucence, like the irregular glass vase holding a petal-less, avant-garde sunflower bouquet. This Finnish-made candlestick sits squarely in that world, its jagged, organic form evoking ice that’s gathered and hardened over time.
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