Yachting’s Sea Change
Sure, the yachts dreamed up by big-name architects and designers look fabulous. But are they seaworthy?
Pleasure yachts were once the province of amateur sailors and oligarchs—men who, aside from a shared appreciation of varnished teak, adhered to diverging aesthetic templates. For serious mariners, form followed function, and fripperies were frowned upon. The upper-cruster aboard his gin palace, meanwhile, preferred nightclub chic, with heavy doses of gold, chandeliers and black-lacquered surfaces. Both types of vessel suffered from a surplus of wood panelling and a scarcity of sea views.
That design rulebook has now been thrown out, thanks to shifting priorities, new technologies and the pandemic-fuelled boom in yacht ownership. A rising generation of younger owners prefers watersports toys and wellness suites over cigar lounges and book-matched mahogany. Seductive superyacht concepts on social media promise a life in which families waft unbounded through fluid, open-plan, indoor-outdoor spaces devoid of clutter and supporting walls.
Suffice to say, such experimentation is not typically dictated by dyed-in-the-wool naval architects but comes from a fresh influx of creative outsiders from the land-bound worlds of hotels, private homes, furniture and even fashion. The designers serving the yacht-owning class of 2024 may be disparate, but they have one thing in common: boats are not their area of expertise.
For decades, a group of former apprentices of Australian Jon Bannenberg, the godfather of yacht design, dominated the field with their trademark lavish style. Bannenberg, part of London’s “swinging ’60s” creative wave, designed celebrated vessels for the great and the not-so-great, including Malcolm Forbes, Adnan Khashoggi and Robert Maxwell. Throughout the ’80s and ’90s, his protégés—Andrew Winch, Terence Disdale and Tim Heywood—catered to the tastes of their plutocrat clientele (think fussy mouldings, high-gloss hardwoods, tinkling crystal and veiny marble), with their brand names adding pedigree to ships and their style seen as the hallmark of opulence.
These designers “made a fortune”, says Giovanna Vitelli, chair of the Azimut-Benetti Group, by some distance the world’s biggest builder, who describes their style as “an institutional interpretation of luxury” dating from a more hierarchical era. “So, when I enter the yacht, I find a formal main salon, and then a big formal dining area, prepared to serve a lot of people,” she says. “I also stay away from the sea” due to privacy concerns, meaning small windows and high, enclosed sterns. This “shouted luxury”, in Vitelli’s words, is now giving way to a fresher, airier, more modern approach driven by a rejection of formalities and a new focus on “the very reason you go boating, which is the sea and nature”.
An embrace of the outdoors was a crucial focus for Norman Foster, one of the world’s most famous architects, whose designs for the 2008 YachtPlus fractional-ownership fleet, though controversial, prefigured some of today’s trends. Foster was perhaps the first outsider to disrupt the industry—“a conservative world” at the time, according to Angus Campbell, a senior partner at Foster’s practice who worked on the project: “You spend all this money, and then you have to look through these tiny little porthole windows; you’re on the sea, but you can’t see out. Why is that? So we looked at creating windows and external space that you can walk around.”
In 2010, Vitelli found herself asking similar questions and decided to hold design competitions specifically for creatives from outside the industry. A successful initial collaboration with architect Achille Salvagni that same year led to a series of partnerships with other architects known for their global portfolios of luxury retail, hotel, residential and product design, including Lazzarini Pickering in Rome, which did two interiors in the Benetti Motopanfilo line; Matteo Thun and Antonio Rodriguez in Milan, who are producing sustainable designs for the Azimut Seadeck series (the first of which will launch at Salone del Mobile this month); and Bonetti/Kozerski in New York, responsible for the interiors of Benetti’s 40M and 34M Oasis series.
Georgio Armani
The fashion icon’s design for the 72 m Admiral megayacht leans into his sophisticated, muted palette and prioritises outdoor space.
Roberto Palomba / Ludovica Serafini
The Milan-based architecture and design duo created the F100 Glass Cabin for Amer Yachts.
The results upended yachting convention. The traditional, strict divisions between interior and exterior were eroded, with “huge glass, huge doors” and a drop-down stern, recalls Vitelli, referring to Benetti’s pioneering “Oasis deck”—a lowered rear section with wings that fold down to create an expanded beach-club zone.
Other shipyards followed suit. One particularly radical concept was the 2015 Savannah, created for Feadship by Cristina Gherardi, who previously was director of architecture at Dior and designed projects for Armani Casa. The yacht featured multiple innovations, including hybrid propulsion, an engine ventilation that filtered air through tables in the bar, and a partially submerged glass-walled Nemo Lounge for watching passing fish.
Oceanco, a full-custom builder that counts Jeff Bezos and Steven Spielberg among its clients, now works with non-yachting designers under its NXT program, while Amer, a smaller semi-custom brand from the Permare Group, recently partnered with Milan-based architectural studio Palomba Serafini to create the award-winning F100 Glass Cabin. And in 2020, Giovanni Costantino, founder and CEO of the Italian Sea Group (TISG), reeled in the Moby Dick of designers: Giorgio Armani. The fashion maestro, who has owned his own yachts for two decades, not only signed up to create two Armani-branded 72 m Admiral megayachts, including one that launched at the Monaco Yacht Show this year, but also bought a 4.99 percent stake in TISG.
The brand-name appeal of famous designers targets a new type of buyer, one who shops for a yacht as they would a luxury car, says Philippe Briand, a naval architect and creator of racing vessels as well as Vitruvius superyachts. The previous generation “came with sailing experience”, he says, “so they were more aware of functionality and constraints. Today, this generation are newcomers, and they’re consumers. That’s fine, but they need to be a bit educated about how complex it is to create a boat.”
Ownership is expanding and changing. There were 1,203 superyacht projects under construction in 2023, according to the Global Order Book, an annual industry survey. That’s nearly twice as many as a decade prior, and demand looks likely to grow in line with the boom in multimillionaires: the most recent UBS Global Wealth Report predicts that the number of people with over US$50 million (around $76 million) in assets will rise to 372,000 by 2027, up from 243,060 in 2022.
“In the past, rich people were mainly over 50, and now it’s completely different,” says Antonio Rodriguez, co-designer of the Azimut Seadeck series. “There is a boom of younger rich people, especially in Asia.”
Gregory C. Marshall, a veteran naval architect based in Victoria, Canada, says his millennial clients (some of whom are in their 20s) “just don’t seem to be interested in traditional superyacht thinking”, adding that “they travel with a backpack and surfboards”. They want ships that are “less polished on the outside and a little more ‘How many toys can I pile on?’ ” 
Enrico Bonetti/Dominic Kozerski
Bonetti/Kozerski, based in New York, aimed for nonchalant elegance with its Oasis series for Benetti.
Norman Foster
The Pritzker Prize–winning architect kicked off the “outsider” boom with his envelope-pushing YachtPlus.
But yachts are still status symbols: no one buys a superyacht solely due to a love of sailing. “If people like the sea, in general they buy a sailboat,” Rodriguez notes. For grander vessels, clients see no reason not to bring in a famous name with no knowledge of the category “like they use a designer for a house in the city or in the countryside,” he says. “It’s a floating house.”
Roberto Palomba’s vessel for Amer was commissioned by a client for whom he had designed projects on terra firma. “He knew me and he loves my style, so he wanted my style in his yacht,” says Palomba, who had no previous marine experience.
The older generation of owners believed that conventional layouts by established industry professionals locked in resale value; today’s clients are much more comfortable with risk. Concepts aimed at this market include vessels shaped like sharks, the Star Trek Enterprise, and bird skeletons. Oceanco’s NXT offerings include Aeolus, a 131 m gigayacht with a huge, sculpted primary suite and panoramic windows, and Kairos, which has the cosmic, asymmetric feel of a Tokyo shopping mall.
“It’s a less formal naval feeling onboard nowadays,” says Paris Baloumis, group marketing director at Oceanco. “Space has become much more fluid.” The aim, he says, is seamlessness between interior and exterior, work space and private space. “Back in the day, you had a special area for aperitifs, maybe a cigar lounge. A lot of different spaces dedicated to specific functions.” In contrast, Oceanco’s NXT Tank concept has replaced rooms with three amorphous zones.
Much of the work of external designers involves removing clutter. Giorgio Armani tells Robb Report that his blueprints were inspired by the clean lines of military vessels “and the optimization of space characteristic of old ships—away with all the infrastructures that can normally be seen, such as the tenders.”
Inside his Admiral yacht for TISG, windows feature sliding panels to help create “spacious interiors flooded with natural light”, he says. “The sensation is wide-ranging and of total immersion in the surrounding environment.” The effect, enhanced by the stealth-wealth decor, recalls his relaxed yet deceptively decadent suits.
Touring yachts as part of his research for the Oasis series, Enrico Bonetti, of Bonetti/Kozerski, found the interiors “very stiff, rigid, with furniture where nobody would sit” while also prioritising “something flashy here, something else flashy over there. So what we tried to do is to link all the spaces together and have a continuation of materials and textures and colours.” The aim, he says, is nonchalance: “sophisticated but without showing it too much”.
The main difference between the old and the new is a shift away from ostentation and toward a discreetly refined simplicity. Rodriguez’s mantra is “Always remove”. Instead of a bunch of gold and marble, he says, “we try to do the opposite, to keep only the materials you need, and never, never to show off.” He calls this approach the new luxury.
Technology is also altering the design process. Engineers at Azimut-Benetti no longer make test models, instead using Oculus virtual-reality glasses to “walk” around the boat, making adjustments in real time. “The ability to do large, technical, structural glass has evolved enormously,” says Marshall, whose studio produced the Artefact superyacht, which may lay claim to more glass than any other yacht on the water and won two major awards at the 2021 World Superyacht Awards. Technological advances engender new ideas, he says. “You start to think, ‘Well, if the glass is actually stronger than my aluminium structure, why would I make it out of aluminium and not glass?’ ”
Sustainability is another driver of change. For the interiors of Azimut’s Seadeck, Rodriguez says he selected exclusively recycled or recyclable materials, including a carpet made from discarded fishing nets, which Vitelli describes as “pleasant to touch”. She adds, “You don’t have that cold plastic effect—it’s like silk.”
“We were trying to push the boundaries and create a better experience for the guests, rather than make it easy to tie up when you’re trying to bring it into shore.”
Change isn’t always welcomed by the technical teams who have to turn outsiders’ nautical fantasies into seaworthy vessels. “I’ve seen a lot of examples of yachts which have been controlled by the interior designer, and in the end [it] does not hang together,” says Philippe Briand, the naval architect, who prefers to work only with marine-specific interior designers.
He particularly abhors the proliferation of unrealistic concepts on social media: “They’re all fake, to be honest, because they’re not representing any existing boat—they’re only the dream or the marketing of a young designer.” Moreover, these renderings are “polluting the market”, he says, because they give clients improbable expectations. “The client says, ‘You’re creative, you’re inventive, so I’m going to order a boat from you [only] if you’re able to do the same design I saw’. Which puts us in a very difficult situation.” Briand cites the trend for ultra-low beach clubs, which he calls unfeasible in even slightly choppy water. “To make an attractive image in a magazine,” he says, the rendering needs to be “flat, all open, two feet above the water—and, of course, on the rendering, the water is [also] flat. It’s not corresponding to any real functionality. I mean, it’s basically fashion.”
Antonio Rodriguez / Matteo Thun
The first in the Azimut Seadeck series by this Milanese partnership, which debuted in April at Salone del Mobile, features all recycled or recyclable materials.
Marshall, the Artefact’s architect, agrees that clients often bring concepts that are impractical but usually finds that, with “some minor adjustments”, the designs are “buildable without losing the aesthetic inspiration”. He says it largely depends on the purpose of the yacht, with an oceangoing vessel requiring more serious engineering than a Monaco posing platform—not every model needs to be able to “survive a hurricane in the middle of the Atlantic”.
Marshall likewise welcomes the creative tension inherent in a meeting between external creatives and in-house engineers. “We look at it like a war,” he says, cheerfully. “Because the reality is each discipline is in conflict with the other disciplines. You may love the styling, but the structural people go, ‘Thanks, how do I build that?’ The way he manages the mediation process is to “start with the concept, go to a certain point and stop, then do a structural pass, then do a mechanical pass, [then] go back to styling—and the stylists of course look at it and go, ‘Oh, my gosh, all these engineers just slaughtered my brilliant design. And we go round and round.” The conflict is the point, he says. “When you get the balance right, then it’s a good design.”
Baloumis agrees but admits to “frustrations on both sides”. Outsiders lack “the technical understanding of naval architecture”, at which point “we have to really guide [them] to understand why certain things are not possible. But on the other hand, it also pushes us to see how we can make it work. And that is a nice interaction.” This Darwinian-esque struggle is necessary, he says, “because the yachting industry is quite confined, quite closed”.
Palomba and Bonetti both encountered resistance to their initial ideas for Amer and Benetti, respectively. According to the former, he had to “force the producer to create big windows”, while Bonetti recalls continually clashing with what he refers to as “the rules”, such as having an elaborately set but unused dining table in the main salon. “For us, not knowing the rules [made it] easier to do things a little bit differently.”
That often-fruitful tension between outsiders and insiders can tip out of balance in the presence of what Marshall calls a forceful stylist. He’s happy to incorporate “round windows, triangular windows, giant staircases”, as long as the vessel operates as more than a stage set.
One veteran yacht designer, asking not to be named, points to Foster’s YachtPlus as an example of form outweighing function. “It just didn’t function as a boat that well, in terms of the normal day-to-day things, like simply tying it up. A lot of the aesthetic inspiration that non-boat people come up with is very clever, but if it doesn’t meet the core usage, it doesn’t last very well.” Campbell, of Foster + Partners, says that their brief was innovation and readily admits that they prioritised eye-catching radicalism over the nitty-gritty of nautical functionality. “We were trying to push the boundaries and create a better experience for the guests,” he says, “rather than make it easy to tie up when you’re trying to bring it into shore.” Those choices, he says, are often in direct contradiction, adding, “I think what happens with a lot of yachts is that the crew take a lot of the key spaces. And the fact is that the guests who’ve paid for the yacht get all the spaces that are left over. We did question a lot of those items to try and push it because, you know, how [else] do you get innovation?”
Maritime regulations often curtail the ambitions of owners and designers. A client’s desire for double-height ceilings is hard to square with fire regulations, which limit the number of open spaces. “A boat is not a bag, it’s not a dress,” says Vitelli. “There’s a lot of substance—you’re buying a floating object full of technology, so [safety] has to remain the priority.”
In terms of interiors, most still agree that the nautical nature of a yacht should be reflected in its fixtures and fittings. “A boat should remain a boat and should remain marine,” says Vitelli, adding that she rejected some architect proposals that were too close to “a New York loft”. Bonetti also cautions against mimicking residential styles too closely. “We’re seeing some boats that if you [replaced] the view from the windows with a street, it could be an apartment in the centre of Berlin,” he says, adding that vessels can reflect their authentic purpose “without going back to the old mahogany interiors”.
But exactly how should a yacht’s design convey its marine essence? It’s partly a matter of safety, says Vitelli: it must have “rounded shapes”, because no one wants to encounter a sharp corner in a storm; handrails and non-slip floors are also crucial. But for a superyacht, it’s also a matter of luxury aesthetics—which means bespoke built-in furniture. Anything off-the-peg “is not perceived as top luxury by certain customers, it’s luxury that we can more or less all afford to buy—Poltrona Frau or Minotti.” In other words: mass luxury.
Bonetti agrees. “The majority of the furniture and the millwork should be specifically designed for that boat,” he says. “It shouldn’t be something from a showroom.” Palomba, however, prefers “movable pieces from brands like B&B and Talenti”, specifically to get away from “integrated fixed furnishings,” which for him are too redolent of the moulded-fibreglass fixtures of yesteryear.
When is a boat not a boat? When it is, in Armani’s words, “a moving house, with particular characteristics”. Today’s owners employ residential architects precisely in order to create the feel of a floating home. Such personal designs will inevitably conflict with the mathematical certainties of naval engineering. But the best shipyards welcome outsiders who bring the friction that sparks creativity—such open-mindedness is especially necessary as technology continues to expand what’s possible. Yacht design is not “an ever-fixed mark / That looks on tempests and is never shaken,” as Shakespeare might have it, but instead it must trim its sails to the prevailing wind. ●
THE NEW DELIVERABLES
Thanks to the influence of big-name designers and the growing owner demand for increased space and superior views, superyachts are undergoing a style evolution. Three areas in particular are coming into sharper focus for builders
Active Beach Clubs
The leisure space at a yacht’s stern has become an essential part of the superyacht blueprint. Owners’ emphasis on the water’s edge has given rise to active beach clubs, which might feature enclosed lounges, drop-down transoms for watersports access, or multi-decked havens where relaxation meets wellness meets seaside living. Most beach clubs come into their own when the yacht is at anchor, but aboard Oceanco’s Aquijo, the world’s largest high-performance ketch, watertight doors mean guests can still use the jacuzzi, spa pool, hammam and sauna when sailing at top speeds.
Glass-bottomed jacuzzis and glass-encased pools on the main deck, as seen on Golden Yachts’ 88 m Project X, shine natural light on a beach club below, mitigating a lack of windows. Other solutions include side terraces that extend the footprint, a trick used by Bilgin’s 80 m Leona. The third hull of the Bilgin 263 series, meanwhile, takes enclosed beach clubs to a new dimension: marble runs across the walls and floor, while a ceiling decorated in twinkling LEDs illuminates a tiled pool and statues recalling Ancient Greece. On the starboard side sits a bar embellished with amethyst and agate; on the port side, a hookah room with fold-down sea terraces.
Rounded Interiors
Several design firms, including Burdifilek of Toronto, are employing curvaceous hull shapes to form new fluid interiors. “I believe very strongly that you should feel like you’re on a boat, with bulkheads that hug the curve of the hull,” says Burdifilek cofounder Diego Burdi, who went with a more rounded feel for the 61 m Damen Entourage.
It’s a sentiment echoed by Rome-based Lazzarini Pickering Architetti, whose interiors for Benetti’s Motopanfilo series are framed by curved, structural “ribs” and integrated panels that mimic the shapely nautical doors and smaller portholes of vessels from the ’60s. Others, such as the Maiora 35 Exuma and the WallyWhy150, feature domed ceilings that don’t compromise structural integrity. “You have to be brave enough to push the boundaries and shift existing design parameters,” says Luca Bassani, Wally’s founder and chief designer.
Virtual Pilothouses
A mere fantasy five years ago, the virtual pilothouse is close to reality now. Some builders are doing away with the main-deck bridge altogether, as seen with Sunseeker’s new Ocean 182, which has only a single helm on the flybridge, as well as Feadship’s concept, Pure. Instead of being perched at the front of the yacht, the captain and VR “command centre” are discreetly ensconced in a windowless deck below the waterline. Team Italia’s virtual bridge isn’t, as the name suggests, virtual but trades its traditional territory for a less prominent position of the owner’s choice.
Placing the pilothouses in out-of-the-way corners allows owners to appropriate the best forward views for their own main-deck suites. The days when practical, nautical concerns necessitated that captains occupy such prime real estate are in the past: “Considering the data and virtual reconstruction sensors we now have,” says Massimo Minnella, CEO and founder of Team Italia, “a virtual bridge will be just as safe and capable as the current one.” The Grecian-inflected pool of the Bilgin 80 m Leona’s beach club; the “command centre” aboard Feadship’s design concept Pure; Benetti’s Motopanfilo 37M’s main salon, featuring structural curved “ribs”. Photography: Daniele Venturelli/Getty Images (Giorgio Armani photo); Enrico Costantini; Ludovica and Roberto Palomba.
Photography: Nigel Young
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Mauve on Up
Brisbane boutique stay Miss Midgley’s offers a viscerally human experience—especially if you dig pink.
On a sun-bleached corner of Brisbane’s New Farm, where the scent of frangipani mingles with the clink of coffee cups, stands a building that has lived more lives than most people. Once a premier’s residence, an orphanage, a hospital and a private school, the 160-year-old stone structure now finds itself reborn as Miss Midgley’s—a boutique stay that teaches a masterclass in how to make heritage feel modern.
Designed and run by architect-mother-daughter duo Lisa and Isabella White, Miss Midgley’s captures the cultural confidence of a city in bloom. Nowhere is that new confidence more visible than along James Street—the leafy, slow-burn heart of the city’s fashion and dining scene—where Miss Midgley’s sits quietly at the edge, its shell-pink façade glowing in the subtropical light.
Built of Brisbane’s rare volcanic tuff, the building’s soft mauves and pinks are more than aesthetic; they are its identity. Locals still remember its 1950s incarnation as the Pink Flats, and the Whites have honoured that legacy with a contemporary blush-toned exterior, chosen to harmonise with the stone’s peachy undertones. Inside, those hues continue in dusty terracottas, russets and the faint shimmer of brass tapware. “Design can’t afford to be for the sake of fashion,” Isabella White has said. “It has to respond to what’s in front of you.”
That sentiment is tangible in every corner. Five apartments, each with their own idiosyncratic floor plan, occupy the building. Ceilings bloom with heritage plasterwork, 19th-century wallpaper fragments have been preserved in the kitchens, and tiny hand-painted notes left by the architects point out original quirks: a misaligned beam here, a hidden archway there. It’s a kind of adult treasure hunt for design lovers, where discovery feels personal and unforced.
Even the picket fence, a heritage requirement, has been reimagined in corten steel—a sly nod to regulation turned into sculpture. It’s this blend of reverence and rebellion that gives Miss Midgley’s its edge: heritage without starch, nostalgia without sentimentality.
True to Brisbane’s easy elegance, luxury here is measured not in marble or minibar but in proportion, privacy, and personality. Each apartment—from the Drawing Room and the Assembly Hall to the Principal’s Office—is a self-contained sanctuary with its own kitchen, large bathroom and outdoor space. The ground-floor units open onto leafy courtyards and welcome small dogs; upstairs, the larger suites spill onto verandahs shaded by jacarandas.
At the heart of the property lies a solar-heated pool hemmed with tropical greenery and fringed umbrellas—more mid-century Palm Springs than colonial Brisbane. Around it, guests share a petite laundry, a communal library and that rarest of urban luxuries: a car park per apartment. The atmosphere is quietly collegiate—a handful of travellers who might nod to each other on the stairs but otherwise inhabit their own creative bubbles.
The hotel’s namesake, Annie Midgley, lends the project both its name and its spirit. An ambidextrous artist and teacher, she famously instructed two students at once, writing with both hands simultaneously—a fitting metaphor for the dual vision the Whites bring to the building: one hand rooted in history, the other sketching toward the future. “Not famous, yet known,” goes the property’s understated tagline—and indeed, Miss Midgley’s has quietly become that most desirable of addresses: the one whispered about by people who know.
Sustainability isn’t an accessory here; it’s structural. The adaptive reuse of the heritage building is its boldest environmental act. Solar panels power the property; an electric heat pump warms the pool; recycled decking and tiles frame the courtyard. The metre-thick tuff walls regulate temperature naturally, and the amenities follow suit—refillable bath products, biodegradable pods, Seljak blankets spun from textile off-cuts, and compendiums wrapped in Australian-made kangaroo leather. It’s slow luxury in the truest sense.
In a world of carbon-copy hotels, Miss Midgley’s feels deeply human—a place where history isn’t curated behind glass but lives in the warmth of stone and the flicker of afternoon light. The lesson it offers is simple and resonant: that the most elegant modernity often comes not from reinvention, but from listening to what’s already there.
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My Brisbane…Monique Kawecki
The Queensland capital is carving its own distinctive take on Australian culture. Here, a clued-up local aesthete takes us around town.
It’s almost a given that all globally minded creatives will, at some juncture in their careers, choose a path that leads directly to one of the planet’s vital cultural hubs—metropolises with the cosmopolitan thrum of New York, the lofty elegance of Paris, the futuristic edge of Tokyo.
True to form, Monique Kawecki’s work odyssey transported her to the buzz of London for over a decade, but the editor and creative consultant now admits to “finding a balance” in Brisbane, using the Queensland capital as a base for generating international content. Together with her husband, industrial designer Alexander Lotersztain, she’s proud to call the fast-blooming city her home.
Driven by curiosity, Monique joins the dots between creative communities and helps bring visionary projects to life through her studio Champ Creative, a space she runs with her twin sister in Tokyo. Her work as co-founder and editorial director of Ala Champ Magazine, a print-turned-digital-media platform rooted in design, architecture and creative culture, allies thinkers and makers who are shaping the future.
EAT
Central
Step underground and you’ll find more than just a Hong Kong-inspired eatery. This vibrant enclave in the CBD is the vision of chef Benny Lam and young restaurateur David Flynn, combining an avant-garde space—designed by up-and-coming J.AR Office—with inventive Asian-fusion plates and a curated Chinese and Australian wine list. Every detail, from the menu to the disco-era soundscape, combines for a memorable experience.
Gerards
A restaurant that has long held its place among Brisbane’s primo venues, and its makeover by J.AR Office has confirmed it is a mainstay in the city. Rich, rammed-earth textures and sleek steel set the stage for the Levantine-inflected fare, where Queensland produce meets Middle Eastern tradition—all served on textured Sally Kerkin tableware that casts the eclectic dishes in an even more visually pleasing light.
DRINK
+81 Aizome Bar
Inspired by the hidden cocktail bars in Tokyo’s Ginza district, an intimate, indigo-hued 10-seater designed by Alexander Lotersztain. The dimly lit space presents drinks served over hand-cut Japanese ice and expertly crafted “neo cocktails” courtesy of mixologist Tony Huang. Champ Creative curated and sourced the artisan-made tableware and glassware from Japan, making sure the experience is as authentic as possible.
Bar Miette
Overlooking the Brisbane River, Australian chef Andrew McConnell has enlisted executive chef Jason Barratt to direct two of his standout dining ventures—this venue and Supernormal—on the waterfront at 443 Queen Street. Both offer stellar dining—the milk bun with mortadella and smoked maple syrup is simple yet sublime—but this is the spot to visit for a glass of wine accompanied by water vistas.
ART & CULTURE
QAGOMA
Together, the Queensland Art Gallery (QA) and Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA) form Australia’s largest modern and contemporary art gallery. Roosting on Brisbane’s South Bank, the establishment showcases exemplary art from Australia, Asia and the Pacific, and, as such, has become a firm favourite among both locals and tourists. By day, world-class exhibitions such as Danish artist Olafur Eliasson’s Presence—beginning December 6th—take centre stage; after dark, expect illuminated theatrics as GOMA permanently projects an intense, multi-hued James Turrell artwork onto its facade.
SHOP
BrownHaus
The experience of entering the luxurious, travertine-clad space is as beautiful as the creations the jewellery studio constructs. The culmination of founder Drew Brown’s 25 years of refining his craft, fine jewels and elevated everyday pieces for both men and women captivate your gaze, each example formed with the utmost intention and care. Moreover, Brown is redefining traditional artisanship and service in a new, modern way, ensuring the flagship store is accessible and exciting in equal measure.
James Street Precinct
For shopping, dining or even just perfecting the time-honoured art of people-watching, James Street is a one-stop hub where fashion, cinema, design and dining converge in Fortitude Valley. Wandering through the streets, discovering fresh, and established, ventures is a cinch. Restaurants sAme sAme and Biànca (from the team behind Agnes and the new Idle bakery) are hard to pass up; next door, be prepared to queue for a cone at Gelato Messina. A recent arrival to the zone is Heidi Middleton’s Artclub atelier, while Australian tailoring brand P. Johnson recently launched its new store, designed by the renowned Tamsin Johnson, across from The Calile hotel.
WELLNESS
The Bathhouse Albion
In Brisbane is home to multiple wellness centres in which one can work out or unwind, such as the five-floor, $80 million TotalFusion Platinum Newstead. This facility, designed by architectural practice Hogg & Lamb, presents a more serene, temple-like experience in the once-industrial Albion Fine Trades district, delivering a communal yet luxe bathhouse with spa, cold plunge, sauna, float, and steam room. With a separate area for hydration spruiking organic TeaGood loose-leaf teas, an hour session ensures a restorative reset.
DAY TRIP
Lady Elliot Island
Visiting one of the most pristine sections of the Great Barrier Reef in one day from Brisbane? Yes, it is indeed possible—and in style, too. With an early start from Redcliffe, around 40 minutes’ drive from the city, take a 90-minute flight to the 45-hectare island and then indulge in a glass-bottom boat viewing, an island tour, and a guided snorkel where you will swoon over mesmerising coral and other-worldly marine life. Lunch is included.
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Tropical Storm
Brisbane’s design-led renaissance is gathering momentum and redefining the city as a destination of distinction.
When it comes to the question of which Australian city can claim to be the country’s epicentre of cool, it’s always been a two-horse race between you-know-who. But challengers to the municipal hegemony do periodically raise their heads above the cultural parapet: Hobart has the world-class MONA in its corner; Perth flexes its white-sand beaches and direct flights to London; plucky Canberra enduringly punches above its weight, wielding a Pollock masterpiece or two at the National Gallery. Now, Brisbane— for decades ironically nicknamed “BrisVegas” as a jibe at its lack of places to see and be seen—is ready to assert itself as a serious contender to break the Sydney-Melbourne monopoly.
The Queensland capital is booming, buzzing and bougier than ever. In the past twelve months alone, Brisbane has seen the addition of $80 million ultra-luxe members’ wellness club TotalFusion Platinum, and earned a place on Condé Nast Traveller’s Hot List for hosting the second outpost of Andrew McConnell’s renowned restaurant Supernormal—both designed by Sydney-based multidisciplinary studio ACME. Since the latter’s opening, the upscale dining scene in the CBD—once steeped in starched white-tablecloth tradition—has come into its own with high-concept, slick and scene-y establishments you’ve likely already seen on Instagram.
Among them is Central, named Australia’s best-designed space at this year’s Interior Design Awards. The subterranean late-night dumpling-bar-meets-disco, designed by one-to-watch local firm J.AR Office, is bathed in bright white light and features a DJ booth built into the open, epicentral kitchen. A 10-minute walk along the river towards the Botanic Gardens reveals Golden Avenue, a buzzy collaboration between J.AR Office and Anyday, the Brisbane hospitality group behind some of the city’s most beloved restaurants of the last decade (Biànca, hôntô, sAme sAme, and Agnes). A skylit oasis where palm fronds cast slivers of shade over tiled tables laden with bowls of baba ganoush and clay pots of blistered prawns, the Middle Eastern-inspired eatery feels like Queensland’s answer to Morocco’s walled courtyard gardens.
That design-forward premises anchor much of the buzz around Brisbane’s new pulse points should come as no surprise. After all, this is an urban centre whose perception and personality were transformed in the 2010s by the brutalist breeze-block facades of the then-burgeoning James Street Precinct. Financed by local developers the Malouf family, and designed by Brisbane’s architecture power couple Adrian Spence and Ingrid Richards, the zone has become a desirable, nationally recognised address for flashy flagships and big-name boutiques (just ask Artclub’s Heidi Middleton and The New Trend’s Vanessa Spencer, who each unveiled plush piled-carpet stores along the strip in October).
But it wasn’t until the 2018 opening of The Calile Hotel that Brisbane truly shed its “big country town” image, staking its claim on the international stage. The Palm Springs-inflected urban resort—which, by now, surely needs no introduction—landed 12th in 2023’s inaugural World’s 50 Best Hotels ranking, ahead of Claridge’s and Raffles.
“That was really quite massive for the optics of what Brisbane has to offer the rest of Australia,” says Ty Simon, a born-and-bred Brisbanite and one of the four visionaries behind the Anyday group, along with his details-driven Milanese wife Bianca, executive chef Ben Williamson, and financial backer Frank Li. From that point on, the use of elite architects and designers became de rigueur across the enclave, weaving a sense of permanence into the local fabric. “We believe in what’s happening here,” says Marie-Louise Theile, creative director of the James Street Initiative and PR executive behind many of the city’s primo spots. “And we’re digging in.”
For in-demand Australian interior designer Tamsin Johnson, the mastermind behind some of James Street’s most carefully curated properties—including her husband Patrick Johnson’s P. Johnson Femme showroom, which opened in September—this momentum is “a wonderful thing”. Idle, Johnson’s August-launched first project with Anyday, is a prime example of what she calls a “contemporary sleekness” that feels intrinsic to the new mood taking hold in Brisbane. A modern-day answer to Milan’s 140-year-old gourmet emporium Peck, the site is a study in how mixed materials—glass, concrete, stainless steel and terrazzo—can create a sense of freshness with a 20th-century overtone.
It’s this dialogue between old and new, so intrinsic to Johnson’s work, that makes Brisbane such a compelling canvas for the Melbourne-born, Sydney-based creative. “I think Brisbane is striving hard for its own identity and voice in Australia, and it is clearly working,” she says. For Johnson, that evolution is also “a process of recognising what you have”, a nod to the strong bones the city has to work with and revisit. From the airy stilted Queenslanders to GOMA’s riverside glass pavilion and the subtropical modernism of Donovan Hill’s landmark C House, Brisbane’s design heritage is a quiet yet potent force, infused with what Johnson calls “the subtle memory of bucolic Australia”. Brisbane’s best contemporary architecture reflects what Richards and Spence described when designing The Calile as “a gentle brutalism”. It incorporates the style’s characteristic heaviness—concrete, rigid geometry and cavernous interiors—but, in response to the climate, does away with barriers between outside and in, and welcomes light, air and a feeling of weightlessness that creates spaces that feel open, relaxed and intimately connected to their surroundings.
Johnson will explore this language further in Anyday’s most ambitious venture yet: a four-level dining destination within the colonial-era Coal Board Building, just across from Golden Avenue. Its debut concept The French Exit—a wood-panelled brasserie with half-height curtains and a 2.00 am licence—is set to be unveiled by year’s end, ensuring the once-sleepy heart will beat well into the early hours.
Luring big names to lend the city their cool factor for one-off projects is one thing, but perhaps the most profound sign that Brisbane still bursts with promise is the fact that so many creative forces are choosing to stay, rather than take their talent elsewhere. “I never thought I’d still be in Brisbane,” laughs J.AR Office director Jared Webb, a local-for-life who started the firm in Fortitude Valley in 2022 after a decade spent working under Richards and Spence. “Trying to entice people to stay and see Brisbane as a city to live in, and to visit, is a big undertone of all our work on a much broader scale,” says Webb, whose designs rely heavily on steel, concrete and stone, both as a means to temper the tropical climate and evoke an aura of continuity he believes Brisbane’s built environment has lacked. (Once dubbed the demolition capital of Australia, the municipality lost more than 60 historic buildings during the ’70s and ’80s under former Queensland premier Joh Bjelke-Petersen, whose two-decade rule was recently revisited in a dramatised documentary available to stream on Stan).
Translating Brisbane’s current buzz into something lasting seems to weigh on the minds of many of the city’s creatives. Vince Alafaci, who forms one half of ACME with his partner Caroline Choker, shares this sentiment when reflecting on their design for Supernormal. “It’s about creating spaces that evolve with time, not ones that date,” he says. “We wanted every element to feel timeless—grounded, honest and enduring.” That pursuit of longevity is something Tamsin Johnson recognises, too: “It’s the people pushing for it that excite me the most. They’re committed,” she says, reflecting on the city’s creative ambition. “I think our designers, the most committed ones, want to leave landmarks and character, bucking against the trend of mundane, short-term and artless developments that all our capitals have experienced. And perhaps Brisbane is leading this mentality.”
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Holiday Gift Guide
The supreme Christmas wish-list awaits—maximum impact guaranteed.
Consider this your definitive shortcut to Christmas morning triumph. From museum-grade jewellery to objects of quiet obsession, this is a wish-list calibrated for maximum impact and minimal guesswork. Each piece in this round-up earns its place not through novelty, but through craft, heritage and that elusive quality collectors recognise instantly: desire with staying power. There are icons reimagined (Piaget’s Andy Warhol watch, a masterclass in pop-era permanence), feats of mechanical bravado (Jacob & Co.’s globe-trotting tourbillon), and indulgences that turn ritual into theatre—whether that’s a Hibiki 21 poured just so, or a Rolls-Royce picnic staged like a state occasion. Fashion, design, fragrance and fine drinking are all represented, but united by a single premise: these are gifts that signal intention. The kind that linger on the mantelpiece, wrist or memory long after the wrapping paper is cleared. The stocking at robbreport.com.au, as ever, is generously—and ingeniously—stuffed.
[main image, top] Tiffany & Co. Blue Book Collection Shell Green Tourmaline Brooch, POA; tiffany.com
Top Tip
Montegrappa limited edition 007 Special Issue fountain pen, $2,850, at The Independent Collective; theindependentcollective.com
Clear Winner
Alchemica ‘Transparent’ glass decanter, $1,000; artemest.com
Holding Court
Celine Halfmoon Soft Triomphe lambskin bag, $5,500; celine.com
Beauty and the Feast
Rolls-Royce picnic hamper, $59,676; rolls-roycemotorcars.com
Minutes of Fame
Piaget limited-edition Andy Warhol Watch Collage with 18-carat yellow gold caseback, $128,000; piaget.com
Fancy That
Graff High Jewellery fancy intense yellow oval, white oval and round diamond necklace, POA; kennedy.com.au
Momentos in Time
Christopher Boots Thalamos Keepsake trinket box, $859; christopherboots.com
Strapper’s Delight
Roger Vivier La Rose Vivier sandals in satin, $2,620; rogervivier.com
Sun Kings
Rimowa x Mykita Visor MR005 Aviator Sunshield, $940; rimowa.com
Take Your Best Shot
Hibiki 21 Year Old blended whisky, $1,399; kentstreetcellars.com.au
Making Perfect Scents
Creed Aventus, $559; creedperfume.com.au
Earth Hour
Jacob & Co. The World is Yours Dual Time Zone Tourbillon, $464,750; inspire@jacobandco.com.au
Glass Acts
Fferrone May coupe, $445 (set of two); spacefurniture.com
Fferrone May flute, $375 (set of two); spacefurniture.com
Worth the Wait
Masterson 2018 Shiraz. $1,000; available to order from the Peter Lehmann Cellar Door by calling (08) 8565 9555.
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Radek Sali’s Wellspring of Youth
The wellness entrepreneur on why longevity isn’t a luxury—yet—and how the science of living well became Australia’s next great export.
Australian wellness pioneer Radek Sali is bringing his bold vision for longevity and human performance to the Gold Coast this weekend with Wanderlust Wellspring—a two-day summit running 25-26 October 2025 at the RACV Royal Pines Resort in Benowa. Sali, former CEO of Swisse and now co-founder of the event and investment firm Light Warrior, has long been at the intersection of wellness, business and conscious purpose.
Wellspring promises a packed agenda of global thought leaders in biohacking and longevity, including Sydney-born Harvard researcher David Sinclair, resilience pioneer Wim Hof, performance innovator Dave Asprey and muscle-health expert Gabrielle Lyon. From immersive workshops to diagnostics, tech showcases, and movement classes, Sali aims to make longevity less a niche pursuit for the elite and more an accessible cultural shift for all. Robb Report ANZ recently interviewed him for our Longevity feature. Here is an edited version of the conversation.
You’ve helped bring Wellspring to life at a moment when longevity seems to be dominating the cultural conversation. What drew you personally to this space?
I’ve always been passionate about wellness, and the language and refinement around how we achieve it are improving every day. Twenty years ago, when I was CEO of Swisse, a conference like this wouldn’t have had traction. Today, people’s interest in health and their thirst for knowledge continue to expand. What excites me is that wellness has moved into the realm of entertainment—people want to feel better, and that’s something I’ve always been happy to deliver.
There are wellness retreats, biohacking clinics, medical conferences everywhere. What makes Wellspring different?
Accessibility. A wellness retreat can be exclusive, but Wellspring democratises the experience. Tickets start at just $79, with options up to $1,800 for a platinum weekend pass. That means anyone can learn from the latest thought leaders. Too often in this space, barriers are put up that limit who can benefit from the science of biohacking. We want Wellspring to be for everyone.
You’re not just an organiser, but also an investor and participant in this field. How do you reconcile passion with commercial opportunity?
Any investment I make has to have purpose. Helping people optimise their health has driven me for two decades. It’s satisfying not just as an investor but as an operator—it builds wonderful culture within organisations and makes a real difference to people’s lives. That’s the natural fit for me, and something I want to keep refining.
What signals do you look for in longevity ventures to separate lasting impact from passing fads?
A lot of what we’re seeing now are actually old ideas resurfacing, supported by deeper scientific research. My father was one of the first in conventional medicine to talk about diet causing disease and meditation supporting mental health back in the 1970s. He was dismissed at first, but decades later, his work was validated. That experience taught me to look for evidence-based practices that endure. Today, we’re at a point where great scientists and doctors can headline events like Wellspring—that’s a huge cultural shift.
Longevity now carries a certain cultural cachet—its own insider language and status markers. How important is that to moving the field forward?
Health is our most precious asset, and people have always boasted about their routines—whether it’s going to the gym, doing a detox, or training for a marathon. What’s different now is that longevity practices are gaining mainstream recognition. I see it as something to be proud of, and I want to democratise access so everyone can ride the biohacking wave.
But some argue that for the ultra-wealthy, peak health has become a kind of luxury asset—like a private jet or a competitive edge.
That’s short-sighted. Yes, there are extremes, but most biohacking methods are accessible and inexpensive. Look at the blue zones—their lifestyle practices aren’t costly, yet they lead to long, healthy lives. That’s essential knowledge we should be sharing widely, and Wellspring is designed to do that in an engaging way.
Community is often cited as a key factor in healthspan. How does Wellspring foster that?
Community is at the heart of it. Just as Okinawa thrives on social connection, we want Wellspring to be a regular gathering place where people uplift each other. Ideally, it would become as busy as a Live Nation schedule—but for health and wellness.
Do you worry longevity could deepen class divides?
Class divides exist, and health isn’t immune. But in Australia, we’re fortunate—democracy and a strong equalisation process help maintain quality of life for most. Proactive healthcare, like supplementation and lifestyle changes, isn’t expensive. In fact, it’s cheaper than a daily coffee. That’s why we’re one of the top five longest-living nations. The opportunity is to keep improving by making proactive health accessible to everyone.
Some longevity ventures are described as “hedge-fund moonshots.” Others, like Wellspring, seem grounded in time-tested approaches. Where do you stand?
There’s value in both, but I’m more interested in sensible, sustainable practices. Things like exercise, meditation, and community-driven activities are proven to extend life and improve wellbeing. Technology can support this, but we can’t lose sight of the human elements—connection, balance, and purpose.
Finally, what role can Australia—and Wellspring—play in shaping the global longevity conversation?
The fact that we can put on an event like Wellspring, attract world-leading talent, and already have commitments for future years says a lot. Australia is far away, but that hasn’t stopped great scientists and thinkers from coming. We’ll be here every year, contributing to the global conversation and, hopefully, helping more people extend their healthspan.
