The heart of the apartment is the kitchen-living room, where three things that usually don't get along live side by side: scarlet doors, a graphic chequered band along the reveals and Karelian birch kitchen fronts.

The kitchen is veneered — I'm allergic to laminate. And I chose an unexpected veneer: not the overused American walnut or classic oak, but Karelian birch. This material still thrills me: its grain is alive, unpredictable, full of character.

The birch talks to the light floor — French herringbone, my favourite, which the clients brought from China, and the Chinese factory did a great job. The chair upholstery is echoed in the curtain trim and the floor tile pattern: there are many shades, but everything follows the single concept set at the very beginning.

The clients came with a request "like in The White Lotus" — the series where interiors play a role of their own, full of details and holiday mood. So we were constantly balancing: rest and minimalism on one side, the urge for something crazy on the other. I think we walked that fine line beautifully.

The hallway works as an overture: dark wallpaper with dancing figures, full-height mirrored wardrobe fronts and tiles with a large geometric pattern that echoes later in the master bathroom and dressing room.

The kids' room is built around a feeling of enveloping warmth and care. It comes from a fabric canopy that recalls the cotton prints of a family dacha: the father loves the country house, and we wanted to bring a bit of that mood into the interior.

The walls have different roles. Behind the bed is a wooden panel; opposite it, cork with applied wooden decor that gives the space warmth, softness and rhythm. I love this wall: it pulls the room together, divides it in two and hides the wardrobe at the same time.

By the window we created a comfortable desk for the schoolgirl daughter — a place where she truly wants to explore the world and learn new things.

The neon dinosaur on a skateboard plays on contrast and argues a little with the overall vibe, but it isn't decor for decor's sake. The sign was inherited from a shop the dad used to own and is dear to him as a memory — now it moves into his daughter's room.

The balcony will become a small garden: the owners love gardening, and it will be overgrown with greenery — the very tropical story in the spirit of The White Lotus.

The client wanted one thing: an enveloping effect. Not a bright glossy box, but a burrow to hide from the whole world. So the entire room went dark: solid wood on the walls, dimmed light, no white tiles.

The bath zone is highlighted with chocolate-burgundy handmade glazed tiles — they glint vividly, each one slightly different. We also screened the tub with a low wall to create a feeling of an enclosed space of your own that you never want to leave.

And now about what I fought for the longest: a peach toilet by the Parisian brand Trone. It took a long time to persuade the clients — and it was worth it. The brand name means "throne", and it honestly plays with that: the shape is nothing like the toilets we're used to, and instead of a plastic flush plate there is a ceramic button in the same colour. In this room it works not as plumbing but as an art object — the only light spot in a dark room, the first thing you look at.

The second accent is gold chinoiserie with birds in a mirrored niche. The lighting is hidden behind the arch, so the pattern glows from within and draws the eye in the half-light.

The floor and part of the walls are laid with graphic large-pattern tiles — the same ones that greet you in the hallway. It's the seam that stitches the whole apartment together.