Things do go in and out of fashion and I suppose the fact that, for much of the last century, Brighton was a bargain day out for Londoners occludes its glory days. It’s still pleasantly seedy, as are most seaside resorts, but no where else is the Brighton Pavilion.
As I think about it, the entire history of Brighton, with its prominence the result of its being favored by the Prince of Wales from the 1780’s, might well have been determined by ‘Prinnie’s’ notoriously louche behavior. Close enough to London, but yet far enough from George III’s stultifying court, the prince could comfortably indulge in fantasies that certainly found their outward expression in the confection that became his Royal Pavilion. 
With an increase in funds with accession to the Regency, the now Prince Regent let imagination run wild. The forest of onion domes and minarets executed by John Nash, while lavish in their number were a bit less extreme in cost, built as they were of stucco over a wooden and iron frame. The vaguely Mughal exterior gives way to a riot of Chinoiserie, with the long gallery with walls and trim painted an astonishing pink, with a bamboo motif overlay in a blue-green. 
The bamboo motif carries on with chairs and tables made of split bamboo. Even the staircase that leads to the upper floor carries on the bamboo motif, but in cast iron, faux painted to match the yellow color and ribbing of the furniture.
The banqueting room that leads off one end of the long gallery is again a riot of chinoiserie, or dragon’s at any rate, with gilt dragons holding aloft the wall and ceiling lighting, and in the pelmets, all the drapery.
The effect of all of this is less of anything oriental than of exotic excess. Moreover, the design of the pavilion was even in its day not in the most fashionable taste, which tended more toward studied antiquarianism in the manner of Thomas Hope, who’s Household Furniture and Interior Decoration was published in 1807. It’s interesting to note that the interiors at the Royal Pavilion were realized by Crace and Company, whose more sober commissions included the interiors of Sir John Soane’s London residence. And, of course, with the accession of Victoria, sobriety became the order of the day. The Brighton Pavilion was sold by her to help pay for her decidedly more practical and domestic seaside home, Osborne House on the Isle of Wight.