Alright, darling, let’s have a proper chat about kitchens—2022 style. You know, it’s funny—I was just in a showroom in Chelsea last autumn, sipping a truly terrible lukewarm coffee, when it hit me: people aren’t just picking cabinets anymore. They’re choosing a mood. A whole vibe.
Take that project in Notting Hill I worked on early last year—a Victorian terrace, gorgeous high ceilings, but the kitchen felt like a sad beige box. The clients, a young couple who actually cook (rare, honestly!), wanted warmth but also something that felt… collected. Not like they’d bought a “kitchen in a box” from some massive retailer. And that’s where it all started.
Colour? Oh, it got brave. Forget safe greys—though they’re still hanging about, bless them. The real story was in the greens. Not just any green, mind you. We’re talking deep, organic, almost murky shades. Like “Sage’s Advice” from Little Greene or Farrow & Ball’s “Treron.” It’s that colour you see on old library walls or inside a herb drawer. I used it on some Shaker-style cabinets in a Islington flat—paired with unlacquered brass hardware that was already starting to patina. The owner texted me later saying it made her morning coffee ritual feel “grounded.” That’s the magic, isn’t it? Colour that doesn’t shout, but hums.
And then there’s the other side of the coin—the really light, creamy off-whites. But not sterile! Never sterile. Think “Pointing” by Farrow & Ball, or “School House White.” They’ve got a drop of grey or ochre in them. Makes all the difference in the natural light, especially in those long London winters. It feels soft, like worn linen.
Now, cabinetry. Goodness, where to start. The biggest shift I kept seeing? A move away from the super high-gloss, handle-less slabs. They had their moment, but in 2022, people craved texture. Detail. Character. Fluted wood fronts became a thing—I saw a stunning example in a Brighton home, done in a pale oak. It caught the light from the sea-facing window and just… shimmered. Felt alive.
Shaker styles held strong, but with tweaks. Thinner frame profiles, for a more modern look. Or painted in two tones—maybe a darker island, lighter perimeter cabinets. I remember sourcing these beautiful, long, leather strap pulls from a small ironworks in Cornwall for a Shaker kitchen in Bristol. Took ages to arrive, but the tactile feel? Unbeatable. You want to touch it. That’s key.
Oh, and open shelving? It got strategic. Not the whole “I’m a café” look, but maybe just one section. For the pretty stuff—the mismatched pottery, the well-used cookbooks, the beautiful olive oil bottle. It’s about showing a bit of your life, your travels. I always tell clients, if you’re gonna do it, commit to the curation! No sad packets of pasta in the background, please.
And materials got mixed up. Like, properly. It wasn’t just about the cabinet finish. Think of a kitchen island with a wooden base and a stone top that’s a completely different colour and vein. Or introducing a run of cabinets in a stained, cerused oak next to painted ones. It stops the room from feeling like a showroom. Adds layers. Like a good outfit, you know?
Here’s a personal bugbear—I think the obsession with “integrated everything” softened a bit. Yes, we hid the fridges. But people fell back in love with the statement cooker hood. A beautiful, sculptural extractor in copper or stainless steel became a focal point. It’s a piece of jewellery for the room.
Let’s be real, 2022 kitchens weren’t about one single trend. It was a feeling. A move towards kitchens that felt personal, tactile, and quietly confident. Less “look what I can afford,” and more “this is how I live.” They became the proper heart of the home again—a bit scuffed, full of character, and telling your story. Even if that story sometimes involves a bit of a chaotic wine spill on that lovely new quartzite… not that I’d know anything about that, of course. Ahem.
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