‘You look very… this season.’ Sixteen-year-old me was thrilled by this comment from a slightly older colleague at the teen fast-fashion store where we worked. I had spent my entire first paycheck on the trendiest items from the new collection, I’d worn them all at once and he’d noticed. Later, of course, came the sickening realisation that it was not a compliment. And so, from quite a young age, I became acutely aware of the double-edged sword of blindly buying into the latest trends: they can make you feel fabulous, but they can also make you feel a little silly. As life lessons go, this is one that still has the power to make me blush some 30-odd years later.

Although this magazine tends not to hype up the latest fads or recommend that everyone follows them, it is not oblivious to trends. We are not trend deniers, per se. But you won’t find too many rooms within its pages that look, as one colleague rather neatly put it, ‘as though they’ve been thrown up by Instagram’. It is a little depressing to think that something being ‘on trend’ might be a motivating factor in how someone dresses themselves or their home – not least because it all seems like such a waste of money. But it happens. By their nature, the faddiest and most fleeting trends have a baked-in obsolescence that can prove expensive. Something that is ‘very now’ can very soon be regarded as ‘very yesterday’.

Equally though, I think it is easy to be unnecessarily snooty about the idea of what is trendy or fashionable. What’s the alternative? Being completely out of touch? I think any homeowner or designer who claims to be immune to the allure or effects of what is happening in the world around them is probably lacking a little self awareness. But while it is human nature to emulate what we admire, a circumspect (and hopefully more imaginative) approach will garner the most satisfying results. It requires careful navigation.

Alexis Bruchon

The story of the scalloped edge is a good case study for the lifecycle of an interiors trend. Arguably, it was clever Matilda Goad’s pretty, wavy-edged raffia lampshades that kickstarted the decorating world’s most recent love affair with the scalloped edge. She launched her vintage-inspired pieces in 2016, triggering countless other designers and retailers to apply this detail to virtually every type of home accessory – from mirrors and waste-paper bins to trays and cushions. We couldn’t get enough of these – often low-ticket – items designed to freshen up a room with a bit of newness. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

But as this juggernaut of a trend gained momentum, the stakes became ever higher. Waves and scalloped edges appeared on very expensive items – on dining tables, headboards and sofas. And, far more worryingly, on architraves and chimneypieces: marble was literally hewn into scalloped edges. We are now at saturation point: peak scallop. What comes next is unavoidable. The cyclical and fickle nature of trends dictates that, soon, anything even resembling a scallop could be deemed as appetising as a slightly-off mollusc. It may not be long before interiors featuring some of these major interventions begin to feel rather like time capsules from the past decade.

So, by all means, knock yourself out with a bit of Japandi if you want to express a love for nature, craft and neutral colours. Cover your Millennial Pink walls with a bit of Brat (sic) Green in the downstairs loo. These choices need not cost you more than a pot of paint or a potted plant. My advice? Choose carefully, tread lightly. Don’t use trend reports as shopping lists. I read one recently that declared indoor swing seats were a major trend for 2025 and I implore you to ignore such rubbish.

I’ll end by ever so slightly lifting the curtain on the machinations of House & Garden. The team regularly meets to review potential house stories for the magazine. We are a nice bunch really, endlessly impressed by the projects that are submitted by decorators and home owners: the lifeblood of the magazine. Every once in a while though, when looking at photographs of a house, one of us might break an awkward silence by suggesting, ‘It’s very of the moment.’ Often, that’s all that needs to be said.