Let’s talk about maximalism—the lush, layered, unapologetically expressive design style that’s taking over Pinterest boards and anchoring some of the most memorable interiors across New York. It’s a celebration of personality, of story, of life well-lived. But let’s also talk about what it isn’t: an excuse to hold onto every broken Vitamix, expired Anthropologie candle, and college-era hoodie “just in case.”
As a real estate agent with Compass New York and co-founder of SimplifyNYC (alongside my incredible husband, Caleb), I spend my days walking through apartments of every shape, size, and sensibility—from charming pre-war gems to gleaming new developments. And what I’ve learned is this: New Yorkers know how to collect. But sometimes, they forget how to edit.
That’s the thing about maximalism—it isn’t about volume. It’s about vision.
True maximalism is rooted in storytelling. It’s not random. It’s not chaotic. It’s curated. It’s intentional. A great maximalist room isn’t stuffed—it’s composed. Every piece contributes to a greater narrative. And here’s the twist: maximalism requires just as much discipline as minimalism. Where minimalism challenges us to live with less, maximalism dares us to live with meaning. To be selective about what we let in, not only physically, but emotionally.
Let’s be honest—design can’t carry the weight of unresolved sentiment. Caleb and I have worked with countless families throughout NYC and beyond, helping them sort through years—sometimes decades—of accumulation. Often what we’re really sorting through is emotion: guilt, grief, nostalgia, inertia. “My grandmother gave me this.” “I might need it someday.” “It feels wasteful to let it go.”
But your home isn’t a museum of everything you’ve ever owned. It’s a stage for the life you’re living now.
We’re not anti-sentiment—in fact, we’re the opposite. I love a gallery wall lined with vintage family portraits, or a bookshelf stacked with travel finds and stories waiting to be told. That’s beautiful maximalism. That’s soul. But the bin of tangled chargers under the bed? That’s not memory. That’s avoidance disguised as importance.
Maximalism, when done well, is a thoughtful expression of self. It’s not about owning more—it’s about choosing more wisely. Ask yourself: Does this item still reflect me? Does it still serve a purpose? If not, maybe it’s time to bless it, and pass it along.
And when it comes time to sell your home? Editing becomes essential. A well-curated space not only feels better—it photographs better, shows better, and sells faster. But even if you’re staying put, your space should lift you up, not weigh you down.
In a city where every square inch is prime real estate, the real luxury isn’t more stuff—it’s more clarity. More peace. More room to live the way you want to live.
So yes, be a maximalist. Go bold. Layer it on. Tell your story through your space. Just don’t confuse emotion with obligation—or meaning with mess. Because at the end of the day, a truly intentional home isn’t about how much it holds. It’s about how fully it reflects you.
And if you’re seeking a space that’s as expressive and expansive as your style, allow me to introduce my latest listing at 163 St. Nicholas Avenue—a luminous corner unit nestled in the heart of Harlem. With soaring ceilings, abundant natural light, and 800 square feet of private outdoor space. It’s a home where design dreams are not only welcomed—but encouraged.
Cole Burden is a licensed real estate agent with Compass New York and co-founder of SimplifyNYC, a decluttering and organization service for NYC and beyond. He and his husband Caleb specialize in helping families reclaim their space, one meaningful item at a time.
