Sitting on Monocle’s design desk means the first week of January is typically spent contemplating the architectural direction that I’m anticipating will come to the fore in the next 12 months. My process for doing so is, usually, twofold. First, I ponder the challenges that architects should be addressing. In 2026, this means creating buildings that are in step with their locale, that pay respect to their immediate surroundings and use materials that are local to or appropriate for the immediate environment. Second, consider those who I think are doing it well. 

In recent years, Nigerian architect and curator Tosin Oshinowo has written beautifully – and at length – about how architects in the global south are creating work that is balanced with the local ecology and environment, pulling from their region’s built traditions and amplifying them to create outstanding modern architecture. In a similar vein, Maltese architect Richard England continues to promote the idea that “architecture doesn’t travel well” – that the best work belongs to a place, and also its time. Appropriately, in Monocle’s December/January issue, we also featured the outstanding home of architects Ueli Brauen and Doris Wälchli (pictured), who transformed a traditional Savoyard agricultural building into a beautiful, contemporary home that respects the building’s indigenous traits – boxy structures with mostly windowless façades. While not explicitly saying it, these designers are seeking out a vernacular architecture.

As a term, vernacular architecture first emerged in the 19th century, when it was used pejoratively to describe common, non-monumental buildings. But it was flipped on its head by Austrian-American architect and curator Bernard Rudofsky, who wrote Architecture Without Architects, a book that accompanied a 1964 exhibition of the same name at The Museum of Modern Art in New York. It was groundbreaking, transforming the term’s perception.

The show featured about 200 images of structures ranging from rock dwellings and tents to houseboats and village designs. It was a celebration of architecture that addressed local needs by using traditional building techniques and local resources. The effect? A showcase of structures deeply connected to place, reflecting local climate, lifestyle and culture. “The beauty of this architecture has long been dismissed as accidental,” wrote Rudofsky. “But today we should be able to recognise it as the result of rare good sense in the handling of practical problems.”

While the work might’ve been considered simplistic, it provided an ethos – a guiding principle – that, if employed today, would create architecture that addresses many of my most pressing concerns for the year ahead. By embracing such an approach, practitioners can create architecture that, in Rudofsky’s words, “is nearly immutable, indeed, unimprovable, since it serves its purpose to perfection.” Oshinowo, England and Brauen Wälchli Architectes are already doing so, and, by my marker, are showing that it’s a worthy pursuit for 2026.

Nic Monisse is Monocle’s design editor. To learn more about Ueli Brauen and Doris Wälchli’s house at the eastern tip of Lake Geneva, pick up a copy of Monocle’s December/January issue, on newsstands now.

Copenhagen furniture and design brand Frama is expanding its presence in hospitality with the opening of its new café, Cabin, on one of the Danish capital’s busiest inner-city streets. “The idea with the interiors was to create an instant juxtaposition to the outside,” says Frama’s founder, Niels Strøyer Christophersen. “To design a small escape.” This comes to life through extensive pinewood panelling that evokes the atmosphere of a log cabin. While the furnishings offer a peek into Frama’s signature pared-back expression, with pieces drawn from its own catalogue. These include recently introduced steel stools upholstered in zebra print and softly glowing Ovoid wall lamps made from hand-blown glass.

The café’s offering mirrors the quality delivered at Bar Vitrine, the brand’s first wine bar. Noma-trained Dhriti Arora, the bar’s chef, curates a seasonal menu of pastries for Cabin, while the coffee is sourced from Oslo-based speciality roastery Tim Wendelboe. “A friend told me that he felt as though he was ‘forest bathing’ while having his coffee at Cabin, which is exactly the experience that we were aiming to create,” adds Christophersen. “A warm, calm and welcoming space.”
cabincph.dk; framacph.com

For more chic stops and design-forward stays in the Danish capital, consult Monocle’s Copenhagen Travel Guide.

British-Nigerian creative Miminat Shodeinde works at the crossroads of art and design, infusing her practice with a sculptural sensibility, be it a chair or the interior of a yacht. Here she tells us about shaping a floating world and why Amsterdam is her favourite design city.

What design movement has influenced you the most?
The art deco movement has always been an inspiration for me: the geometry, the sense of glamour, the confidence in form. I have also been shaped by Lina Bo Bardi’s warmth and social intelligence, Mies van der Rohe’s clarity and discipline, and Barbara Hepworth’s sculptural sensitivity. Together they give me direction that is expressive yet restrained, human yet architectural and always grounded in material and craft.

The sky’s the limit: which piece of furniture would you love to own?
I’d love to own a truly iconic, sculptural piece such as a rare Jean Dunand lacquered screen or an original Maria Pergay daybed. I’m drawn to furniture that feels both poetic and engineered – objects that hold history but remain utterly modern. Those are the pieces that you live with for a lifetime, the ones that reveal something new each time you walk past them.

A recurring source of inspiration?
Materiality is my anchor. I’m endlessly inspired by how materials behave – the weight of metal, the warmth of wood, the irregularity of stone, the softness of textiles. I love studying how they age, how they respond to light, how they transform when shaped by different hands. Whenever I feel stuck, I go back to a raw material and let its character guide the next idea.

A favourite project that you’ve worked on?
I’m currently working on a stunning 3,716 sq m home in India. It’s a concrete brutalist haven and I’m completely obsessed with it. I’ve designed every single detail down to the smallest junction and seeing it take shape has been unbelievably rewarding. I can’t wait for it to be completed.

A dream commission?
A yacht. I’ve designed one before but I’d love to be involved in the entire process and actually see it come to life. The idea of shaping a floating world, where architecture, engineering and intimacy converge, feels like the ultimate challenge. Creating something sculptural, functional and deeply atmospheric on the water would be a dream.

What’s a priority for you going forward?
For me personally, the priority is simple: to be happy and to keep enjoying what I do. When the joy is there, the work follows naturally. The industry could use more of that – design driven by genuine passion rather than pressure. Creativity feels so much richer when it comes from a place of authenticity and enjoyment.

Which city has the best design scene? And where should we visit?
London or Amsterdam. If you’re visiting the latter, spend time wandering through its smaller studios and concept shops; that’s where you really feel the city’s design DNA. Visit places such as the Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam for a dose of modern art, before exploring the independent galleries and makers’ spaces tucked away along the canals. 

For more from designers such as Miminat Shodeinde, tune in to ‘Monocle on Design’ on Monocle Radio.

Bauhaus ideas are neatly summed up in this teapot from 1924. With its flat top and D-shaped ebony handle, kitchenware had never seemed so novel. The novelty also lay in its size: at just slightly more than 7cm high, the infuser and built-in strainer were designed to make a concentrated brew that would be diluted with hot water in the cup. Tea connoisseurs have cause to frown at this method but true to the German design movement’s ethos, it was efficient and space-saving above all.

The teapot’s designer, Marianne Brandt, was the only woman working in the Metallwerkstatt (metal workshop) of the Bauhaus school. Brandt’s designs often went uncredited and have only gradually received the recognition that they deserve, thanks in part to reissues by Alessi. The silver teapot, however, exists mainly in museum collections. It might not appeal to loose-leaf purists but for whoever is still brewing with store-bought bags, this little geometric design would be a significant upgrade to afternoon tea.

One of the latest projects from the Barcelona-based design studio of Antoni Arola is the Shiro Collection, including a wireless lamp designed for Santa & Cole. The lamp is inspired by yukimi shoji – traditional Japanese sliding screens that combine shoji panels in their upper section with glass panels below. This division allows inhabitants to enjoy winter snowscapes (yukimi translates to “snow-viewing”) from the warmth and comfort of their homes. “The contrast with the shapes of the plants [outside] led me to design a very rational, clean object: a cube made of louvres,” says Antoni Arola. “The influence of traditional Japanese architecture is clearly present. They are, after all, true masters of the relationship between architecture and the garden.”

Though the name Shiro comes from the Japanese word for “white”, it does not signify emptiness. Instead, it evokes a fresh canvas brimming with potential, intended to inspire contemplation and discovery. Shiro’s sober structure is designed to blend seamlessly into natural surroundings. Composed of metal slats arranged in a cubic form, the lamp emits a soft, warm glow and can be used inside as well as out. 
santacole.com

Hungry for more? Check out our list of the 40 best furniture designs, country by country.