WE DO NOT DESIGN ROOMS WE FIND PEOPLE

You already know what you don’t want. A home that could belong to anyone. Spaces that impress at a glance and quietly exhaust over time. Someone else’s taste, applied to your life.

What you want is harder to name. A place that feels completely, unmistakably yours.

We begin by paying attention. To how you live. To what you return to instinctively. To the places that have stayed with you.

Our story

Dasha Slavinskaya

Founder & Creative Director

I came to design through the wrong door.

Not art school. Not a family of architects. Not a lifelong dream. I came through accounting, property management, a decade of systems and numbers.

But the education had already happened. Long before I knew it was one.

I grew up in Moscow, in a home that was quietly remarkable. My father worked and travelled abroad — and came back with pieces from Latin America. Textiles, ceramics, objects made by real hands in real places, each one carrying the weight of somewhere else. They sat in our Moscow apartment as if they had always belonged there.

My mother had a different kind of obsession. Fine china. Crystal glass. The great museums of the world were her destinations — not as a tourist, but as a pilgrim. She didn’t lecture me about what I was looking at. She just took me. And I absorbed it the way children absorb everything — through feeling, not understanding.

Nobody sat me down and explained beauty. Nobody told me what was valuable or where it came from or why it mattered. I simply grew up inside it. And that, I realise now, is the only real way to learn.

It left me with something I still can’t fully explain — an eye that responds to the feeling of an object before anything else. Not its provenance, not its price, not its name. Whether it belongs. Whether it’s true. Whether it makes the room more itself or less.

I came to design through the wrong door. But I had been looking through the right window my whole life.

At some point I stopped pretending that beauty wasn’t the thing I cared about most. That’s when KRIKLA started.

I am not a designer in the conventional sense. I don’t have a signature style I apply to every project. I don’t arrive with a mood board full of things I love and invite you to love them too.

I watch people. I sit with them. I listen to what they say and what they don’t say. I notice what they touch and what they walk past. And slowly — through conversation, through the things they react to without knowing why, through the spaces that have ever made them feel at ease — I find what is true about them.

And then I build around that.

KRIKLA is for people who have stayed in the best hotels in the world and still feel most themselves at home. Who don’t want impressive. Who want true.

If you know exactly what you want and how to acheive it, I am probably not the right person.

If you are willing to find out — I might be exactly that.