A childhood of sun-drenched days and open-door living in Cyprus has left a lasting imprint on interior designer Murude Katipoglu’s understanding of home. Now based in London, she talks to Rosalind Sack about the Mediterranean influences that continue to inform both her life and her work

INTERIOR DESIGNER MURUDE KATIPOGLU IN LONDON. IMAGE: HELEN CATHCART
There is a particular kind of light that falls across a Cypriot courtyard in the late afternoon – golden, unhurried, the kind that seems to slow the whole day down. It is the light that interior designer Murude Katipoglu grew up with, and although she has lived in London for nearly two decades, it has never stopped shaping the way she sees a room.
Founder of her eponymous London-based interior design studio, there is a sense of ease and an instinct for warmth, light and natural materials in the spaces that Murude designs. To understand why, it helps to go back to her childhood home in Cyprus.
“The house where I was born and raised has had a profound influence on how I think about home and design today,” she says. “Looking back now as a designer, I realise how much I absorbed from that environment.” It was a practical house that was built for heat, with large windows and doors left open to catch the breeze, stone floors that stayed cool underfoot and high ceilings that held the worst of the summer at bay. “There was a simplicity to it, but also a deep understanding of how people wanted to live within the space,” she says.
What has stayed with her is not necessarily the architecture, but the atmosphere it allowed. The family lived close to Murude’s grandparents, and the boundaries between households blurred easily. “There was always a sense that people could come and go freely, and our doors were rarely closed,” she remembers. “Family, neighbours and friends would often drop in unannounced, and were always welcomed.”
She tells one story about the countless chairs, which she considered a standing invitation. “Every Cypriot home seems to have an endless supply,” she says. “There were always enough seats for whoever might arrive for coffee, lunch or dinner. Hospitality wasn’t an occasion; it was simply part of everyday life.”
At the centre of the home was the kitchen, presided over by her grandmother. Murude would spend hours watching her prepare meals, and make jams and preserves. “I think that’s where I first understood that the most successful spaces are not necessarily the most beautiful ones, but the ones that can bring people together naturally and also function well,” she says.
And then there was the room that contradicted everything else: the formal guest living room, found in so many Cypriot houses. “The best china, silverware and treasured possessions were on display, yet more often than not it sat unused,” she recalls. As a child she was drawn to that strange stillness, and would often go and sit in there. “I’ve never been interested in spaces that are waiting for a special occasion, or designed to be admired from a distance,” she says now. “I believe the most successful interiors are the ones that are fully lived in and enjoyed every day, where beauty and functionality exist together.”


GENEROUS SEATING IN THE LIVING ROOM AND THE LIGHT-FILLED DINING ROOM AT MURUDÉ’S WEST LONDON TOWNHOUSE PROJECT. IMAGES: BEN ANDERS
“Those early experiences continue to shape my work today,” she says. “While aesthetics are important, I am always interested in how a home feels and functions. I often think about natural light, flow between spaces, the connection between indoors and outdoors, and how a home can support both gathering and quiet moments.”
Her parents later built a second family home that was brighter and more open; where Murude lived for five years and where – for the first time – she had a say in the design. It is this house that holds the most sentiment. “I was able to decide how I wanted my own bedroom to be and also helped my parents with design decisions throughout the rest of the house,” she recalls. “That experience gave me the confirmation I needed that interior design was the right path for me.”
It also taught her something else, that has underpinned her practice ever since: “A sense of belonging is not necessarily tied to the house you grow up in, but to how a place makes you feel. Light, comfort, positive memories and a sense of agency all play a role in creating a home that feels emotionally meaningful.”
It is a lesson she has had to apply to her own London home. When Murude bought a new-build apartment six years ago – at a time when she was too busy building her studio to take on a renovation – she found the building polished but curiously cold. Despite having been designed by a renowned interior designer, it was lacking the “warmth, patina and lived-in character” she gravitates towards.
Her response was to paint the walls in Edward Bulmer’s Etruscan Brown, a deep red brown with the sun-warmed pigment of sunnier climes. Murude also began filling the rooms with antiques and collected pieces.
“That instinct was probably my Mediterranean upbringing revealing itself,” she says. “I’ve always been drawn to homes that feel warm, relaxed and evolved over time, rather than perfectly finished or overly minimal. For me, a home should have soul, patina and a sense of memory – even if those memories are newly created.”


(LEFT) A SENSE OF EASE AND COMFORT IN MURUDÉ’S WEST LONDON TOWNHOUSE PROJECT. IMAGE: BEN ANDERS; (RIGHT) NATURAL MATERIALS AND TEXTURES ABOUND IN THE DINING ROOM OF MURUDÉ’S LONDON PIED-A-TERRE PROJECT. IMAGE: HELEN CATHCART


(LEFT) A CLEVER USE OF TEXTURES AND MATERIALS AT THE CLAY YARD, DESIGNED BY MURUDÉ, IN NORTH LONDON. IMAGE: HELEN CATHCART ; (RIGHT) MURUDE KATIPOGLU IN HER NATIVE CYPRUS


(LEFT) A PLACE FOR REFLECTION AT THE CLAY YARD, DESIGNED BY MURUDÉ, IN NORTH LONDON. IMAGE: HELEN CATHCART ; (RIGHT) ELEGANCE AND COMFORT AT THIS RIVERSIDE RESIDENCE PROJECT BY MURUDÉ. IMAGE: BEN ANDERS
Discover more inspiring stories of creating a home and personal reflections on what home truly means here. And explore the stories of more homes in sunnier climes below.

