By Arabella Peterson Interiors 17.06.2025

This Surprising Décor Movement is Turning Homes Into Treasure Troves

What’s really driving our craving for comfort, colour and cuteness?

Every decade has a quintessential interior style that defines the era and reflects what was happening in culture at the time. Picture the pastel kitchens and floral wallpaper of the 1950s – born from the domestic optimism and boom of the post-war years. The macramé, shag rugs and earthy palettes of the 1970s mirrored the free-spirited, anti-establishment sentiment of the time. The 1980s saw the aestheticisation of power and excess, with glossy surfaces, glass bricks, and black-and-brass accents echoing corporate ambition.

Then the 2000s made way for features borrowed from early internet culture – iridescent finishes, neon lights and clunky tech – followed by the aspirational minimalism of the 2010s: white walls, clean lines, houseplants and open shelving, a response to burnout culture and the longing for control and peace.

But the 2020s are harder to define. Similarly to fashion and music, the markers of past decades have converged to create a cultural patchwork – a remixed approach to design that prioritises joy and nostalgia. Movements like Dopamine Décor, Maximalism, and Clustering have absorbed the cultural backdrop of post-pandemic uncertainty and digital overstimulation and materialised as wavey mirrors, bold patterns, novelty furniture, and perhaps most notably: trinkets and collectibles.

Someone who embodies the wonder of decorating with keepsakes is Martina Calvi, Sydney-based creative and author of The Art of Memory Collecting: 15 Scrapbook, Collage, Trinket and Zine Projects For Crafting Treasured Moments. “Trinkets and figurines make me feel nostalgic, like I’m a small child again,” she says. “I love anything miniscule and sweet, like a tiny token or a souvenir of a trip or memory. They’re emotional souvenirs, disguised as trinkets.” In this light, interiors (and the objects that fill them) go beyond being just practical spaces, and become emotional refuges – personalised and playful.

Jesse Howes, from Exhibitions and Events Australia, is one of the organisers of CollectFest – a festival that brings passionate hobbyists and collectors together. He points to the “small, joyful, accessible – and deeply shareable” nature of collectibles as a key reason for their rising appeal in the digital age. “Cute collectibles tap into a sense of play that’s safe and expressive. There’s also a comforting consistency to them in a world that’s otherwise chaotic,” he says.

In terms of finding trinkets for your home, Jesse suggests, “It’s less about the object itself and more about the story, scarcity, and social currency. For younger collectors, it’s the thrill of owning something that reflects their personality, their taste, or even just a shared cultural moment… it's often part of a broader identity signal – and that makes it inherently desirable.”

Martina notes a few shelf companions taking centre stage at the moment. “I’m seeing a lot of people still collecting Miffy objects, and new toys like the Labubus,” she says. “I love to see people be drawn to trinkets, whether it’s because of a trend or childhood nostalgia, so long as it brings them joy.” Naturally, Jesse has also noticed collectibles like Labubus rising in popularity: “Expect to see more of these designer plush toys and mascots that are a little odd, a little scruffy, but full of charm. That ‘ugly cute’ aesthetic is becoming a real favourite.”

This instantly recognisable figure – a mischievous, wide-eyed character from Hong Kong-based toy brand Pop Mart’s “The Monsters” series, designed by Kasing Lung – has transcended its niche origins. Originally a designer toy for collectors, Labubu has become a viral sensation, particularly across TikTok, where fans post unboxings, attach them to high-end fashion pieces like Birkin bags and Chrome Hearts chains, and style them in elaborate shelf displays.

Miniatures like Labubus, Sonny Angels and Sylvanian Families seemingly represent a rejection of traditional markers of adulthood – beige palettes, minimalism, and restrained taste. Instead, they're part of a mood-boosting aesthetic that embraces softness and colour. There’s also undoubtedly a level of irony at play, juxtaposing luxury and cheap, low brow and high brow, and gaucheness with intentionality. For upcoming generations largely priced out of home ownership and large renovations, these collectibles offer a taste of design and curation – moodboard-ready and optimised for sharing on social media while remaining renter-friendly.

Martina remembers being drawn to tiny ceramic animals as a child, displaying them in shadow boxes and setting up play scenes with them. She still has many of these curiosities, and they’ve made way for the current most-prized objects of her affection: “A Lego figurine that looks like my fiance, a ceramic cat my friend Anna sculpted by hand, a porcelain crocodile I found in the Blue Mountains, the little porcelain Siamese cat that looks just like my cat Phoebe.” Her method of curation is completely instinctive, “I just display the pieces that bring me joy or are inspiring me,” she says. “Sometimes they match and feel like a family, sometimes it’s more chaotic.”

But like any trend, there’s a level of complexity to consider. Elements associated with consumer collectibles have garnered criticism, especially the blind box phenomenon, where buyers don’t know which item they’re getting until they open it. Some argue this encourages risk and fosters addiction-like behaviours, particularly among young people, due to the randomness and social pressure to complete a set. Jesse acknowledges there’s certainly a dopamine rush baked into this type of collecting, “There’s the dopamine hit of the chase, the serotonin of displaying your collection, and even the oxytocin from trading or connecting with others in the hobby,” he says.

Another concern surrounding this culture is the environmental impact – specifically the excessive packaging and synthetic materials many figurines are made from. While many find joy and comfort in collecting, others view it as a symptom of engineered desire. Still, Jesse believes the social and psychological layers run deeper, “Collecting activates our reward systems, but it also builds community. That emotional layer is what turns casual interest into lifelong obsession.” As always, it's best to engage with trends mindfully, authentically and with awareness of why it resonates.

This décor moment is a far cry from the ornate maximalism of the past, hallmarked by lavish gold accents and baroque flourishes à la Versace. Instead, it’s expressive and emotional. If this new wave of playful design speaks to you, but you’re worried about creating a space that feels cluttered or juvenile, there are plenty of ways to style your home so it feels like you.

Integrating collectibles and trinkets into your interiors doesn’t have to be childish or chaotic. Look to designers like Shimona Bhansali (founder of DesignHex) or Dani Dazey for vibrant, chic spaces that elevate ornamentation – scaling the whimsy up or down to suit your taste. Past homes that we've featured in The Makers series like Sarah Corbett Winder's eclectic North London home or Josh & Matt’s joyful Melbourne rental are perfect examples of how to strike a balance between playfulness and polish.

As Jesse explains, “We're watching a generation that grew up online reclaim parts of their childhood – but on their own terms. That nostalgia is now blended with adult-level taste, curation, and spend. It's not just about play – it's about creating joy, grounding yourself in something tangible, and collecting as a form of self-expression.”

He’s observed a mounting crossover between collectors and people in the fashion, design, and interiors space: “People are now styling their sneakers like sculpture and treating cards and figurines like art,” he says, referencing Schumi, a company that exclusively sells bespoke display cases for collectibles. “It’s becoming common to see display shelves in home renos designed specifically for collectibles. The line between lifestyle and hobby is blurring fast.”

Jesse pinpoints some trends to watch that are continuing to gain traction: “Hyper-niche nostalgia is getting bigger – especially Aussie childhood brands, Y2K merch, and items that feel like inside jokes for a specific generation.” This kind of styling turns bedrooms into moodboards and shelves into curated time capsules, displaying a personal cultural history. “Also, collectibles that do more than just sit on a shelf,” he continues, “Whether it's art-meets-apparel collabs, collectible homewares, or tech accessories, people want pieces they can use, not just display.”

For Martina, her inner conflict as a maximalist is that she is “constantly at odds with my desire for calm and my desire to live inside my own moodboard and be surrounded by inspiration.” She advises that the secret to styling clutter with intention is dedicating certain areas to visual chaos. Examples she shares include, “Your bookshelf, a particular side table. Sometimes trinkets need to be tucked away inside a drawer for a couple months, and switched out later. Your eyes need moments of rest just as much as delight or stimulation.” But her love for tiny treasures runs deep. “They bring joy and interest to otherwise mundane corners of my world. I love seeing guests discover them in my studio, like a little treasure hunt: the porcelain crocodile sitting serenely on a pile of books, or the tiny cat on the window sill. We all deserve a touch of whimsy in our everyday lives, and trinkets can do that… Collect whatever makes you happy!”

Whether decorating with collectibles is a hobby or perhaps something deeper, trinkets and colour seem to offer joy and identity in unstable times. The rise of kawaii culture points to a broader rejection of emotionless utilitarianism and grown-up restraint in favour of expression, brightness and self-soothing aesthetics. Maybe your shelf of figurines isn’t frivolous – it’s a form of self-care.

Tips for collecting sustainably

Balance new purchases with secondhand and vintage by exploring op shops, flea markets, exhibitions and online marketplaces to find unique items with less environmental impact.
Join trading communities or attend collector meet-ups to exchange items rather than always buying new.
Support small makers by choosing pieces from local artists and independent creators who use low-waste, ethical production methods.
Avoid over-consumption by being intentional – ask yourself if an item brings lasting joy or is just a momentary trend.
Reuse and recycle packaging. If you do buy new, keep or repurpose packaging for storage or gifting.

Tips for curating your collectibles

Think like a gallery curator. Group items by colour, shape, material, or theme for visual cohesion.
Create dedicated “zones” by confining maximalism to specific shelves, mantels, or corners to avoid overwhelm.
Mix heights and textures. Use plinths, books, or trays to create layered, dynamic displays.
Rotate your collection seasonally by storing some items and switching them out to keep your space feeling fresh.
Contrast cute trinkets with more elevated materials and furniture to get a well-balanced high-low aesthetic.
Include pieces with personal meaning or nostalgic significance to inject sentiment into style.