I’ve always thought of my friend Victoria Hagan, the interior designer, as a classicist with a modernist eye—someone who distills a space to its essentials while keeping it warm, livable, and deeply attuned to the people who inhabit it. Her recent projects in Palm Beach have brought that sensibility into sharp, beautiful focus. Here, her work embraces the island’s radiant light and its ever-shifting palette of architectural styles, from Mediterranean Revival villas to Beaux-Arts mansions and breezy low-slung cottages.

In these coastal settings, Victoria draws interiors toward the sea and the sky, balancing openness and proportion with a discerning sense of restraint. The result is a distinctly modern vision—forward-looking yet grounded in the heritage of Palm Beach—that feels as effortless as the homes she creates.

In a design world that often thrives on drama, Victoria remains a cool, confident oasis of calm. We met years ago—when I was a young editor on the launch team of ELLE Decor and she was the rising protégé of the elegant designer Simone Feldman—and our careers have unfolded in parallel ever since. As she built her own firm and I moved into the magazine’s editor-in-chief role, I’ve admired not only Victoria’s exquisite eye, but also the easy grace with which she seems to navigate both her business and family life.

With her timeless approach to luxury interiors, Victoria has shaped some of the most beautiful and high-profile homes in the country. Her relaxed elegance and quietly assured manner have earned the trust of leaders in finance, business, technology, politics, and the arts. Named to nearly every top-designer list, she has published three celebrated books, and one of her classic blue-and- white Hamptons living rooms became ELLE Decor’s bestselling cover of all time.

 

Photo by William Waldron

 

MARGARET RUSSELL: Interior design is often described as bringing a house to life. What does that mean to you?

VICTORIA HAGAN: Every project is a personal collaboration with a client. It’s about their furnishings, their taste, their way of living. I offer design options, but we choose together. And I don’t have a single client that doesn’t have personal collections whether it’s art, or books, or objects. They help provide the soul and spirit that bring a room to life. Also, I’m a fixer. I love to solve problems. Give me a house with a lot of issues and I’ll work morning, noon, and night until I get it right. But I’m equally passionate about solving the more subtle challenges—working with clients to interpret their wishes, needs, and expectations. That means being curious, asking questions, listening, and paying close attention. I think one of the secrets to my success in business is that I’m a good listener.

MR: You often reference a wide range of design inspirations—from Thomas Jefferson’s classicism to David Hicks’s bold color, and the modernist simplicity of Adolf Loos. When it comes to Palm Beach, which of the legendary design icons have influenced you?

VH: I remember being in high school, and Lilly Pulitzer was all the rage. It was like nothing you had ever seen—it was fun, it was happy. We all needed a Lilly bikini. To me, Lilly was a designer and a personality who created something very special that is now iconic and synonymous with what we think of as Palm Beach style. The color, the brightness, the energy—Palm Beach is so green and blue and bright pink; I mean, you can’t live in Palm Beach and not love color. My family started visiting when I was young and I just fell in love. [Hagan’s husband, Michael Berman, is the CEO of PALMER’s parent company.]

 

Photo by Douglas Friedman

 

MR: Your firm describes your aesthetic as “New American Classic—a modern sense of luxury that is fresh, restrained, and iconic.” Do you think of yourself as a modernist?

VH: I think my spaces are modern—I think they live modern. I’m not a minimalist, but the essential elements of my work—proportion, symmetry, the juxtaposition of styles, and the beauty of natural materials—are modern. It’s not just sight lines and materials; it’s also about how a house feels. No matter whether you’re doing a historic renovation or a new modernist house, it’s really about how you want to live. I design for the way a modern family lives, and I like to think of my work as welcoming and comfortable. Reconfiguring a traditional layout of hallways and closed-off rooms can completely transform the experience of living in a house—as can opening spaces up to nature, the views, and the light. I was saying to a client just yesterday that I was so excited about all the design decisions we were making, but the one thing I didn’t want her to lose sight of is that my job is to make sure everything feels good. It doesn’t just look good—it should feel good. I focus on the details, and I’m sensitive to the way people live. Even if something is incredibly difficult to pull off and requires hours of meetings, I never want it to look that way. My job and what I love doing is making it all come together so naturally that it looks effortless.

MR: When you begin a new project—modern or traditional—what are the building blocks you look for?

VH: It’s always about the light and volume of a space—making the effort to see what isn’t obvious and imagining what it could become. Scale, proportion, and volume are powerful tools. I love nothing more than figuring out what a game-changing move can be. Sometimes, the first step is as fundamental as reorienting an entrance, which can be transformational. Or I’ll say, “If you move that stair, it opens up tremendous opportunities.” And when someone replies, “We’re not moving the stair,” that’s okay. I’m always looking beyond what’s there to the potential for beauty. My interiors are deeply shaped by their surroundings, and in Palm Beach that means a seamless connection with the landscape. In the past, architecture here often kept the elements out; even some of the most beautiful homes had small windows and little focus on the ocean. Today, it’s all about living and entertaining both indoors and out.

 

A complete reimagining of a 1920s home in Palm Beach, by Smith and Moore Architects, with landscape by Nievera Williams Design. Photo by Douglas Friedman

 

MR: I’ve seen so many houses designed to broadcast their fabulousness on a drive-by, but Palm Beach’s stately hedges create such a different message—one of privacy and grace. How do you think this shapes the experience of living there?

VH: It’s true. Hedges offer protection and privacy. Palm Beach is not a Hollywood set; people lead really active lives and value their privacy. You look at your gardens as another part of your home—a continuation of the house with lush outdoor rooms that stretch right up to the hedges. Also, I appreciate that people go out of their way to be good neighbors. They’re respectful about the placement of a pool or planting of trees; making sure their landscape isn’t intrusive to adjacent properties. I find that refreshing.

MR: Your interiors somehow look sun-splashed even on stormy days. How does sunlight—or the lack of it—influence your work?

VH: I’m fascinated by light and space, and by how they make you feel. Spending time in a house to see how the light travels throughout the day—where the sun sets and casts its glow—is essential. It’s not just about decoration; it’s about design and how a space works. The sun’s passage always influences the interiors and informs the landscape. In Palm Beach, I always think of the light from east to west. That sunrise to sunset and the quality of that light—it’s quite spectacular. There are incredible moments throughout the day when I’m driving—large horizons to take in, and the occasional rainbow. It’s definitely a place where you feel you’re living side by side with Mother Nature.

 

Photo by Douglas Friedman

 

MR: Do clients sometimes ask you to completely outfit a home, especially a non-primary residence—from sofas to bed linens to tableware?

VH: All the time. I know what my clients like, present options that we choose together, and then handle everything. When shopping for clients, I try to find things that reflect their personal style and way of looking at the world. It’s those pieces that can bring a space to a different level.

MR: What happens once a project is finally complete? Is everything warehoused and then you and your team install it over a few days?

VH: Oh no, it takes more time. We usually need about a month. I always tell my clients I don’t want to over-buy; I like having a little room. Space reveals itself, and when you start creating your interiors, you realize what you want to add. At the end, those are often the most special pieces. That also gives me time to experience the space. If you walked in and saw me working, it might look like I’m just sitting around—but I’m sitting everywhere. I’m looking at everything, taking it all in. I’m pretending, trying to walk in other people’s shoes, thinking, How will they experience the space? How does it feel, and is it working? I like that immersive experience. And I always feel melancholy at the end because you become so attached to people and their lifestyle, and then you’re like, “Okay, time to go!” Though it’s nice, especially here in town, when you still get to see people.

 

The home’s poolhouse. Patrick Naggar Amalfi, Chair Ralph Pucci. Photo by Douglas Friedman

 

MR: I imagine part of your work with new clients is helping them understand proportion, comfort, and the way spaces function, or explaining—like, “This is the standard seat height, though some like it lower.”

VH: Seriously, no one has ever asked me to sit lower. We never go lower. We typically end up raising things a little bit. That’s something that I notice in Europe, everything is much lower.

MR: I just saw a designer’s new sofa collection, and I swear it was just 10 inches off the floor. I didn’t want to even try to sit.

VH: It’s not a pretty look, trying to get up from sitting so low in a skirt and heels. I do enjoy explaining things—and understanding a client’s preferences. People have opinions; no one ever says, “I don’t care.” I’m looking for those opinions. That’s the back-and-forth collaboration that I enjoy. When someone tells you a memory of being in their grandmother’s home, of what they liked, and you can pick up clues about how to make something special for them. Each house has a story, and every client has a dream. I think I’ve always been very observant of what makes people happy and what makes people uncomfortable. I like creating the big overall picture but also focusing on individual details. Interior design involves a quirky toolbox of skills.

 

 

MR: Intuition probably plays a major role.

VH: It’s funny you say that, because I do have good intuition. Just the other day, I was looking at some art with clients and a friend and the husband was saying, “No, no, no.” I told my friend, “He’s just having an afternoon of No. My instinct is he’ll wake up tomorrow morning and love that painting, even though he said he didn’t.” It was his body language. My friend was doubtful. And my hunch was right—at 8:30 the next morning, I got a call: “Can you get the art hangers here today? He loves the painting and wants to hang it.”

MR: You work with many significant art collectors. When a client has especially important—or very large—pieces, do you ever design the space around them?

VH: Most of my clients have been collecting for years, either on their own or with advisors. What brings them joy is living with their art, so placement is a key part of the design process. Even if I have a strong idea of exactly where one piece should go, we always have a few options to play with. The art is so impactful, and it’s best when it all comes together at the end. Art has a way of finding its right place.

 

The renovation of an oceanfront Jupiter Island family compound. A painting by Bridget Riley and a ceiling sculpture by Paula Crown bring light into the living room. Custom silk rug, Mansour; Hervé Van der Straeten lamps; Ralph Pucci outdoor furniture; Christian Liaigre. Photo by William Waldron.

 

MR: Are you a good delegator? How do you balance your personal involvement with the management of such a wide range of projects?

VH: We have offices in New York and Palm Beach; all together, the firm has about 24 incredible people who value professionalism, hard work, and the creation of beauty. I love the process of collaboration, and I learn some- thing new every day—from clients, from colleagues, from what I see, and from my own reactions to challenges. When I hire, I say, “Welcome to VHI—and I hope you like managing confetti,” because that’s what we do. We manage multiple projects in far-flung locations at different stages of completion. You have to know how to prioritize and schedule and to be a good juggler.

MR: Do you hire interns? Isn’t that how your own career began?

VH: Yes, absolutely. When I was in design school at Parsons, I went to a talk by the designer Alexandra Stoddard and afterwards asked her for career advice. She very firmly told me, “You must intern. You must intern because that’s the best education you’ll ever get.” It was, and it still is.

 

An Anish Kapoor mirrored sculpture. Bench by Eric Slayton. Photo by William Waldron.

 

MR: There has been so much recent conversation about good taste versus bad taste. How do you define good taste?

VH: I think good taste is about living gracefully and living authentically. It’s distasteful to try too hard to be tasteful; good taste is not trying too hard.

MR: As one of the most influential designers of our time, your design projects as well as your own family homes have been widely published for three decades, and you have nearly 200 thousand Instagram followers. How do you balance sharing your work and protecting your clients’ privacy?

VH: Publishing my design work is exciting, and Instagram is a place where I enjoy sharing it—it’s also fun to see other interior design projects. I’m fiercely protective of my clients’ privacy, and haven’t built my business or my reputation on using their names. I’m fiercely protective of their privacy. At the same time, many of my clients do enjoy seeing their homes. I don’t identify whose house it is, but they enjoy it because they were part of the process too; it’s something we created together.

 

Oversized windows and doors in the entry reveal the lush garden, with landscaping by Hollander Design. Custom bronze table by Eric Schmitt. Photo by William Waldron.

 

MR: We both had fathers who were corporate lawyers. I know my dad greatly influenced my forthright approach to my business; what was your father’s influence on you?

VH: I always used to tease my dad that he really helped me in my career, and he’d say, “I know you got your taste from me.” I’d tell him, “No, you taught me how to answer any question coming my way.” Nothing is going to throw me—being brought up by a litigator, you’re ready at all times.

MR: You’ve always pushed yourself—in your career, sports, and your personal life. What’s been your latest challenge?

VH: I’m working a bit more in the contract world, in larger buildings and commercial spaces. I think, ultimately, I’d love to collaborate with an architect on the design of a museum, and to collaborate on a chapel. I’m very inspired by the potential of spaces that speak to many people on a very different scale. I was just in Doha, Qatar, where, 20 years ago, it was all sand. There was one hotel, the Sheraton Hotel, and nothing else. Two decades later, Doha has the most magnificent, magical skyline. That trip was an adventure full of inspiration.

MR: What had the greatest impact on you in Doha?

VH: The focus on creativity and how we live, the exhibitions, and the design schools. It was the idea of being creative on such a large, broadstroke view. It’s not just the view from one window; it’s the view of a skyline that really says so much more. We must always raise the bar with everything we’re involved in creatively. Thinking bigger, challenging ourselves, and always asking how something could be more beautiful—and how it sits within the larger landscape.

 

Drawings by Richard Serra flank the hallway. Hervé Van der Straeten pendant light, Ralph Pucci. Photo by William Waldron.

 

MR: Designers vary widely in how close they become with clients. Some draw strict boundaries; others happily become godparents. Where do you tend to fall on that spectrum?

VH: I always feel that clients hire me to be their designer, though I can count all my clients as friends. So much of my work is often with the same families, and there’s something nice about getting to know people in that kind of way and helping them through different stages of their lives. Everyone lives a life full of chapters. When I come into someone’s life, I’m very much aware of which chapter they’re in, and I’m always looking forward to what’s next and making sure the house lives well and can take my clients into the future.

MR: You’ve worked all over the country—from Nantucket to Montana to California. Do you have a favorite architectural style, or a house that stands out in your memory?

VH: All the different types of projects I work on are like my children—I can’t say, “Oh, this is my super favorite.” I love doing mountain houses. I love doing beach houses. They’re all extremely special. What’s been fun for me recently is working on our new house that we’ve started building.

 

Design of an elegant 1920s Palm Beach estate, by Kirchhoff & Associates Architects. Photo by Andrew Frasz

 

MR: I was happy to see that when you posted a video of the construction site on Instagram, you called it your dream house.

VH: I’m very focused on the volumes of space and the ceiling heights, so I opted to design a house that’s mainly on one level to take advantage of the scale of the rooms. I’m beginning to work on the interiors and the lighting, and I’m obsessed with swimming pools. They’re a big part of the lifestyle here. I grew up swimming and always use the metaphor of needing to dive in: You might not want to, but once you do, you quickly feel comfortable in the water. Swimming competitively taught me you have to finish what you begin. I take that concept with me into my projects. I really love beginning them, but the hardest, most important, most rewarding part is to bring them to fruition.

 

Dining chairs and Alison Berger vases; Holly Hunt; Eric Schmitt pendant; Ralph Pucci. Photo by Andrew Frasz

 

MR: Whenever we talk and you’re in Palm Beach, you sound happy, super busy, and very social. How would you describe your day-to-day life there?

VH: I have a day job and a night job. I love my day job—I’m running around in all different kinds of homes or at work in my office. In the evening, we do a lot of entertaining. I love to throw a dinner party, and we go out all the time. My friends enjoy entertaining—it’s fun, and it’s more relaxed than people expect.

 

Ado Chale Lune entry table, Gallery 88, bronze settee, De La Vega Design. Photos by Andrew Frasz

 

MR: Now that you spend more time in Palm Beach, what has surprised you about living there?

VH: Life feels a bit simpler here. I’m busy with projects wherever I am, but with the beautiful light and water views, and feeling more connected to nature, there’s a greater sense of calm. Interiors here feel effortlessly connected to the landscape, which offers a different perspective. This is my favorite way to design and a wonderful way to live. I can squeeze in a round of golf or some tennis. I find time for a walk on the beach. Compared with New York, life in Palm Beach has a more leisurely rhythm something to savor. If it were a melody, it would be an entirely different tempo.

 

A new home facing the Intracoastal Waterway, by Ferguson & Shamamian Architects. In the serene dressing room hangs a custom plaster mirror from Lucca Antiques. Custom silk carpet by Tai Ping Carpets. Photo by Pieter Estersohn

 

Purchase the full Volume 10 issue here.