In recent years, interior design has taken a bold and colourful turn. Bright hues, whimsical patterns, and expressive textures are dominating social media feeds and home décor magazines alike. Among these vibrant trends, dopamine décor stands out — a movement that centres around curating joyful, mood-boosting spaces using bold colours and playful design. It’s essentially the home equivalent of dopamine dressing, a trend in fashion where people wear bright colours and feel-good outfits to boost their mood.
There’s no denying the charm. There’s something truly uplifting about walking into a room where every corner bursts with colour and creativity — the kind of space that feels like a celebration of life. Throw in a bouclé bed — that soft, looped-texture upholstery that screams comfort and quiet luxury — and you’ve got a beautifully balanced expression of cosy and cheerful. The bouclé trend, in particular, adds a tactile, sensory-rich element to décor, offering a grounded counterbalance to all that visual stimulation.
Loving the Look, but Living With It?
As someone who deeply appreciates design — and who enjoys the feel-good factor of dopamine dressing and eclectic interiors — I often find myself in a curious position. I absolutely love the aesthetic in other people’s homes and lifestyles. I admire the bravery, the playfulness, and the pure joy it brings to a space. But living in it? That’s a whole different story.
Being neurodiverse, I find that visually "loud" environments can be overwhelming. My mind doesn’t know where to settle, and rather than feeling uplifted, I often find my thoughts scattered, my energy agitated. Too many focal points, too many colours, and my brain begins to lose its anchor. It’s not that I don’t find beauty in those spaces — I do — but I also find them exhausting to exist in for any length of time.
The Quiet Side of Eclecticism
I do have a love for eclectic styles. There's something soul-nourishing about combining old with new, rustic with modern, and throwing in a touch of the unexpected. But for me, the palette needs to be softer, the contrasts less jarring. I crave depth, texture, and interest — but in a way that whispers rather than shouts. Natural materials, earthy tones, and the occasional joyful pop work better in my world.
I often wish I didn’t find colour so “loud.” I envy those who can live joyfully among punchy pinks, vivid greens, and electric blues without it disrupting their inner calm. I admire women who pull off dopamine fashion with confidence — wearing clashing prints and vibrant hues like a second skin.
But for me, especially as a woman in her later 50s, that kind of boldness doesn’t always feel accessible.
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| Celtic woman stock image. |
Colour, Age, and Ancestral Hues
Being of Celtic origin, I’ve found that many dopamine colours can wash me out unless I dramatically shift my appearance — bright hair dyes, bold makeup, or very deliberate styling. And honestly? I just can’t be bothered. I don’t want to feel like I need to put on a costume just to fit into a trend. Not daily, anyway.
Maybe it is partly an age thing. Or maybe it's because I spend so much time in nature — in places where the palette is soft, grounding, and ever-changing with the seasons. My senses feel most at home among mossy greens, sea-washed blues, the browns of bark and earth, and the soft greys of river stones. That’s where my energy finds its equilibrium.
Finding the Balance
Still, I believe in finding your own kind of dopamine décor — one that brings joy without overload. For me, that might mean a vintage velvet chair in a deep teal, a wall painted in warm ochre, or a handwoven throw in mustard and blush. It might mean art that tells a story, or a corner filled with natural textures and books. Joy doesn't have to be loud to be powerful.
So while dopamine décor and bouclé beds might be trending right now, the real trend — the one that should never go out of style — is designing for how you want to feel in your space. For some, that's a carnival of colour. For others, it’s a quiet, grounded sanctuary. And for people like me, it’s a little of both — just in the right measure.