BOULO GAZETE NO2
Designer Kouros Maghsoudi weaves Persian rituals, radical nostalgia, and unapologetic hedonism into objects that do more than furnish a room—they invite connection and escape. For the second edition of our Gazete, we spoke with Kouros as he unpacks dualities, fantasies, and the tactile thrill of designing for how we really live.
Read the full interview below.
You were born in Chicago, to parents who ran a boutique women’s clothing store and Persian rug galleries. I know the Mehmooni Collection was inspired by Persian traditions, and I spotted the Persian rugs in the photoshoot. Are there specific symbols, moments—or even gestures—from your heritage or childhood that are shaping your creative language?
Persian culture has always been a huge part of my life. My parents were always hosting Mehmoonis (which translates to "gathering" in Farsi and is the name of my first collection), and would taarof with guests—offering tea, fruit, wine, even arguing over who gets to pay the bill. These rituals of hosting and hospitality shaped so much of how I think about design today.
In my Mehmooni Collection, you really see this especially in the Taarof Table. It has a built-in fruit bowl, an ice bucket, and an ashtray—so you can literally taarof (or offer generously) with your guests. It’s not just a table, it’s a hosting experience. The pieces in this collection invites people to indulge, to offer, to connect. It’s my way of bringing the joy of Persian hospitality into everyday life.
Your work seems to invite people to pause and engage with furniture in new ways. In one interview, you spoke about postmodern motifs that “encourage people to explore their hedonistic side.” What kind of reaction or engagement do you hope your designs evoke—and why does hedonism feel like an important thread in your work?
I think design hasn’t been honest recently. For the past few decades, it’s shied away from embracing hedonism, vices, or raw, animalistic human behavior. I want to fill that gap with design that’s real. Sometimes human behavior isn’t polished or chic. Sometimes it’s sweaty, scandalous, impulsive, or deeply sexual. And I think our spaces and objects should reflect that. I want my work to create moments of pause, indulgence, and play -- to let people feel a little more free, a little more themselves. Hedonism isn’t just about excess -- it’s about honesty. It’s about designing for how we actually live, not just how we want to be perceived.
There seems to be a powerful duality in your work—pieces that are both classically functional and intensely expressive. Do you find that this tension between structure and individuality also plays a role in your personal life?
I’m a deeply social creature; I thrive on connection, I’m embedded in New York nightlife, I love going out, dancing, indulging. But furniture is the opposite: it’s precise, measured, slow. Every millimeter matters. Every finish, timeline, and structural detail has to be perfect. So there’s this constant contrast in my life between wildness and control, spontaneity and structure. And I think that duality shows up in my work. The pieces are engineered and exact, but they’re also expressive, sensual, even a little rebellious. I design for both sides of myself, the part that needs to escape and the part that needs to anchor.
Out of every moment of oppression, a movement is born. The Italian Radical period, for instance—a design movement that emerged in the late ’60s and ’70s—a time characterised by political violence and social unrest. In an interview, you mentioned often referencing this period in your moodboards. If today’s turbulence is shaping a new design language, what would you call it?
Escapism. We’re living through deeply troubling times of creeping fascism, technological surveillance, environmental collapse. It feels like we’ve slipped into a slow-burning dystopia. So much of today’s design is a reaction to that -- a longing for the recent past, for the optimism of even 15 years ago. I think we’re designing for the world we wish we lived in. Not nostalgia exactly, but fantasy. There’s this collective urge to escape -- to build interiors, objects, and aesthetics that imagine an alternate timeline. One where we kept progressing upward from the 2010s, rather than spiralling downward.
You’ve mentioned an interest in exploring materials like glass. As someone who’s a huge admirer of one-material objects and glass, I’d be especially excited to see your take on that. Should we expect more deep dives into singular materials, or are you leaning towards combining different elements in future works? What does the future hold for Kouros Maghsoudi?
Every collection I’ve done has explored different materials. I’m a self-taught artist and designer, so I learn best by diving in—by actually creating the work and learning directly from my fabricators. My first collection was all wood and 3D printing. The second was aluminum. The third combined ceramic, upholstery, steel, aluminum, and wood. The fourth was marble. The fifth was fiberglass and aluminum. And my sixth will be glass. I’m developing a series of small, collectible tabletop objects—more accessible pieces. I’ve never worked with glass before, so it feels exciting to enter a world I know nothing about.
