Inside Sabyasachi’s Maximalist World of Nostalgia

Walking into a Sabyasachi boutique feels like being invited into Mr. Mukherjee’s home. Every corner brims with curated treasures—vintage photographs are carefully placed on everything from the signature wallpaper to a mother of pearl armoire, and hand-woven rugs cushion the floor. All of the items were chosen instinctively rather than by value, and these environments evoke a collective nostalgia, not just of the designer’s cultural heritage but of a broader human longing for authenticity in our modern world. Visitors are invited to linger, absorb, and reconnect with their senses and memories.

Sabyasachi Mukherjee is a true storyteller, once referring to himself as a “ferryman between the past and the future.” In our conversation with Sabyasachi, he reflects on his interior design philosophy, creative process, and the layered narratives woven into his storied spaces.

Culture Lounge: Maximalism is a core element of your aesthetic. How would you describe the difference between that motif in the East and West? 

Sabyasachi Mukherjee: Maximalism in the East is more sensory and tactile. Not simply visual, it’s an immersion of sounds, smells, textures, and tastes. Simply seeing the world is minimalistic; true maximalism must be experienced across all the senses.

 When people hear "Sabyasachi" and "maximalism" together, what word do you hope comes to their mind? 

India.

Your stores are filled with treasures from Canton vases to Mughal miniatures. How do you choose which pieces to feature in each location?

I am a reckless, compulsive collector of things that are precious and mundane. I don't collect on the basis of provenance or value. I gather completely on instinct, sensing whatever the piece is telling me when I'm staring at it. My stores are like a jigsaw puzzle, but guided by a singularity of taste; so, everything falls into place.

You’ve mentioned that your stores are like your home—a place where people can wander and enjoy themselves. Why is it important for you to create that kind of atmosphere?

I did a television show for ten seasons that brought the consumer very close to me, yet I remain an introverted person. The difficulty to satisfy public demands as the founder of the brand has led me to build stores like my home. I wanted visitors to feel in touch with me, and always welcome like guests. When people enter a Sabyasachi space, it is a living museum; not simply a transactional store. 

The way you design your spaces evokes a sort of collective nostalgia, not just specific to your Bengali roots or your Calcutta upbringing, but one that seems to encompass a broader cultural consciousness. 

The whole world is suffering from a sense of loss. With the rapid digitization of our lives, we have lost the tactile, sensory experiences that make us human. We are all seeking reality—whether in food, experiences, architecture, music, or smell. The world needs these small pockets of authenticity where they can feel whole. Our stores contain elements from all over the world that create a universal sense of nostalgia. This is carefully curated through the artwork, motifs, rugs, tapestries, and music, which encompass many cultures and age groups. When people leave my stores, they often feel an aching sense of loss, but also a glimmer of hope as they reconnect with their own memories, roots, and heritage.

Your New York Atelier has been described as an homage to “a non-linear sensorial journey from Calcutta to New York.” Can you elaborate on what specific experiences you aimed to evoke, and how do these relate to your memories of Calcutta?

In Calcutta, in all Bengali homes, you will find a showcase filled with priceless objects, valued not for their material worth but for their sentimental significance. From children’s sports medals to old china sets, an heirloom piece of jewelry next to a trinket from a long-forgotten vacation, these showcases become shrines to family histories and shared memories.

Calcutta is a city of collectors, irrespective of economic strata. Whether it’s art on the walls, multitudes of carpets and furniture on the floor, or a jumble of crockery stacked in cupboards—sentimental hoarding is the essence of the Calcutta aesthetic. This layered richness is what I aim to evoke in my interiors—a tapestry of memories and a celebration of nostalgia.

You've mentioned that the foundation of your home design began with selecting the perfect wall color. Similarly, it’s rumored that the New York atelier was inspired by the lavish 24k gold sink. Could you elaborate on how a specific object or detail can serve as the jumping point when conceptualizing a space?

An artist or designer needs a spark to ignite an idea. When I was designing the store, I wandered the West Village, listening to Leonard Cohen for inspiration. Walking into P.E. Guerin, I saw these beautiful bird-shaped faucet taps, and they sparked thoughts of Vienna and the Gilded Age in America. I wanted to create something that spoke to a bygone elegance with a sense of Eastern nostalgia, and that became the naissance of the 160 Christopher Street flagship. In that moment, I envisioned winding hallways and stately rooms with large mirrors and draped velvet curtains. It all came together in an instant.

Your ateliers are known for their intricate layering of textures, colors, and cultural artifacts. How does your interpretation of layering go beyond aesthetics?

I'm fascinated by the concept of layering, like we are building over time. A poignant moment in my life was visiting the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul. One can see traces of Roman and Byzantine motifs under layers of Muslim decoration. The modern coexistence of multiple faiths and cultures from disparate eras makes the space exceptional and transcendent. I'm fascinated by the patina of age creeping over walls, like a layering of time. I create visual layers in my stores to honor the gravitas that the passage of time imparts upon a space. 

While one might view the Mumbai flagship as a grander iteration of the New York space, what artistic nuances do you believe define each location? 

What defines a space is the play of light. Mumbai, being a tropical coastal city, inspired a Colonial aesthetic that feels lighter in both color and ambiance. While the design is grand and heavily adorned, the use of softer-colored carpets and brighter, taller chandeliers creates an airy, open feel. In contrast, for New York, I wanted to pay homage to the city’s speakeasies and jazz clubs, capturing the allure of its legendary nightlife. The space is glamorous yet brooding—intimate, sensuous, and reminiscent of a boudoir.

In what ways do you think your Mumbai boutique represents a shift in the perception of Indian design on a global scale, particularly in light of being nominated as one of the World's Most Beautiful Emporiums by Prix Versailles? 

The secret to maximalism is restraint. India is a country that celebrates sensory overload, and at times, “over the top” can carry a connotation of being tacky. I want to change this misconception. The Sabyasachi aesthetic shows that maximalism can be incredibly sophisticated when thoughtfully curated. Despite a large space with myriad artifacts and numerous products, a curatorial eye editing and controlling the effort makes our Indian-maximalism truly modern.