"Look for These Tricky Spaces First" — Michaelist Boyd's Christina Gregoriou Knows How to Turn the Part of Your Home You Dread Most Into Its Showstopper

Few studios have shaped the look of contemporary hospitality and home as decisively as Michaelis Boyd. Founded in Notting Hill, London, in 1995 by architects Tim Boyd and Alex Michaelis, the practice has risen to become one of the world's foremost architecture and design firms, its award-winning portfolio spanning high-end resorts and hotels, hard-to-get restaurants, and residential and commercial spaces alike. Each is, in its way, a testing ground for material and space innovation, with frills-free sophistication, an eye for memorable ambiance, and a love of nature together at its very heart.

Not everyone will have the chance to sojourn at some of the coveted addresses graced by the team's savoir-faire, from the Oxfordshire-based Soho Farmhouse and the Groucho Club to The Williamsburg Hotel in New York. Nor will every reader who lands on this page get to savor the winning combination of bold flavors and atmosphere that serves as the premise of reservations at the Michaelis Boyd-envisioned Santi NYC, Exmouth Market's Moro, and Officine Bac at Le Grand Hôtel Cayré in Paris. Still, this doesn't mean that the studio doesn't have lessons that trickle down to your own front door. In fact, the opposite.

Whatever the scale of your apartment or home, Michaelis Boyd's partner Christina Gregoriou explains, it holds the potential to far outgrow its constraints. Scroll to learn more.

What Is the One Design Hill You're Willing to Die on?

"In every design brief — whether it is your own home, a client's, or a commercial or hospitality concept — there are spaces that no one knows what to do with. They are the weird nooks and crannies, the unused corners, the long and narrow corridors; the rooms that suddenly feel uninspiring once the walls are demolished and a massive, unmovable, structural column is exposed. Or worse: the moment your structural engineer announces that you need a brand-new column for the building to remain standing. Who would have thought buildings needed structure?

"Quite often, the instinct is to leave these stubborn areas for last, hoping that if the rest of the project is brilliant enough, the awkward spots will quietly blend into the background. But left unaddressed, they rarely blend — they look like an afterthought. My advice? Look for these tricky spaces first. Give them primary consideration from day one. You might be surprised to find that the space you once dreaded designing actually holds the potential to become the hero of the entire project. And that, yes, design's biggest constraints can become its greatest stars, if dealt with the right way."

What Does Embracing the 'Frame' of a Project Bring to the Table?

"Working within design constraints forces a level of creativity that an open canvas rarely demands. Finding the "main character" or central feature of a space is not always about opting for the obvious centerpiece; often, it's about listening to what the architecture — or the landscape — is resisting and leaning in.

"When designing Miiro Paris — a hotel renovation combining two heritage Haussmann-era buildings connected from different streets in the French capital — the secondary entrance was historically treated as the 'ugly' side. Dark, narrow, and lacking natural light, it had been relegated to back-of-house operations, administrative offices, and windowless meeting rooms. We decided to challenge the spatial flow. Those tight, dimly lit proportions weren't a drawback — they were the perfect environment for a moody, intimate speakeasy.

"However, during strip-out, we uncovered a structural column that made an already challenging floor plan feel almost impossible, leaving behind a tiny, awkward pocket with no apparent functional use. Rather than fighting it, we used that constraint to conceive a deeply theatrical, custom love seat nestled precisely into the niche. What started as an unworkable architectural flaw became the most memorable, defining feature of the space. It's proof of how, often, your accidental hero is born from turning obstacles into icons."

What's Your Advice for People Looking to Turn a Renovation Obstacles Into Its Strength?

"Sometimes the space itself feels uninspiring, not because of structural oddities, but because of its conventional routine, like bathrooms, for example. When tasked with designing the main bathroom for the WOW House in collaboration with House of Rohl, we were dealing with a room type that many view as purely functional compared to grand living areas or bedrooms. And so, instead of letting the layout dictate the feeling, we chose our protagonist first: a grand, statement round bathtub.

"The rest of the design supported that choice. We elevated the tub on a central plinth, set beneath an architectural dome, featuring a breathtaking, hand-painted ceiling by artist Claire Basler. By declaring the hero early, by choosing it first, a standard functional room was transformed into an immersive sanctuary."

Many of the Studio's Biggest Projects Are Architectural. How Does Your View of Limitations Shift Then?

"For us, this same philosophy applies when the architectural canvas we are working with is a living one. Often, a site is rich with mature trees and native landscape that directly disrupt a conventional layout. Our approach is never to clear-cut or fight against the terrain, but to work with it — to invite it into the architecture. You could view nature as the ultimate constraint, really.

"Yet, designing around the natural landscape is simply another challenge that sparks profound creativity. We approach these sites by tightly framing structures around existing trees, transforming the daily experience of a space into a sensory interaction where you see, touch, and smell the environment. Whenever feasible, we elevate buildings on stilts to ensure the lightest possible intervention on the earth.

"In a recent Six Senses resort concept we designed, the site was a dense pine forest sitting just 300 meters from coastal dunes. Rather than clearing the site to make way for the structures, we orchestrated the entire masterplan of the buildings around the natural clusters of pine trees. We then allowed the native sand of the site to flow seamlessly right up to and around the structures, preserving the exact topography that the forest had carved out over decades. By treating the landscape as a non-negotiable constraint, the architecture didn't dominate the site; it became an extension of it."

What Do You Want Your Projects to Evoke?

"At its core, great design is tactile and emotional. You can hold all the degrees and accumulated experience in the world, but if a space doesn't feel good when you step inside, it will always remain cold and soulless.

"In an era saturated with curated visual noise, it is easy to get caught up in replicating aesthetic trends. But true design requires us to stop relying endlessly on Pinterest and Instagram for inspiration, and start tuning back into intuition and nature. It's not just about styling a picture-perfect vignette; it's about how a space makes you feel when you inhabit it.

"The next time you encounter a space with a seemingly hopeless corner, a column blocking your way, or a tree line disrupting your masterplan, don't try to hide it or override it. Lean in, give it your attention first, and let the constraint reveal its own protagonist."

Gregoriou isn't the first nor the last person to realize how much of a value offline authenticity has in the contemporary design landscape. In his latest piece for Livingetc, James Cunningham, too, argues that, increasingly, people are rejecting algorithm-influenced, predictable interiors for adventurous, more personal homes. Finally, a trend we can't wait to get on ourselves.

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