Insight Archives - Page 13 of 15

Holding Hope: What It Means to Be a Woman Who Designs

This article, written by Rebeccah Pailes-Friedman, was published in the Spring 2025 Issue of IDSA’s INNOVATION Magazine.

Hope isn’t loud. It doesn’t arrive in fanfare or blaze across headlines. For many of us—especially women working in creative fields—it shows up quietly, in the act of continuing. In the sketch, the prototype, the difficult conversation we still choose to have. Design, at its core, is a hopeful practice: it asks us to imagine that something could be better than it is now, and then dares us to shape it. Even when the world feels brittle, uncertain, or indifferent.

As a woman navigating both industry and academia, I’ve come to see hope not as optimism, but as resistance. It’s the decision to keep building—companies, objects, classrooms, futures—in spite of all that tells us not to. And I see this resilience everywhere: in the students who arrive carrying questions no syllabus can answer; in the design teams holding the line for inclusive products; in the small, quiet breakthroughs that happen late at night at the sewing machine or CAD screen.

This kind of hope is rarely celebrated, because it’s not shiny. It doesn’t make headlines. It shows up in the tenacity to make good work even when timelines are tight, budgets are limited, or recognition is slow to come. It’s especially present in the work of women designers, who often take on the invisible emotional labor of collaboration, mentoring, and bridging hard conversations. In our Women in Design conversations over the past few years, I’ve been struck by how often words like perseverance, balance, care, and community come up—none of which scream “disruption,” but all of which embody a more durable kind of design leadership.

When we talked about networking and resilience, we weren’t talking about ladder-climbing. We were talking about survival. About holding space for one another while navigating a field that’s not always structured with us in mind. About reaching out across disciplines and generations. That too is a hopeful act: to believe that connection and mentorship matter, and to keep showing up for each other, even when it’s hard.

I think often about the women I’ve spoken to through this column—their stories, their honesty, their strength. One shared how she stayed in the field because another woman made space for her. Another talked about choosing projects not based on prestige, but on the opportunity to make change. These aren’t always the loudest decisions, but they are the ones that shape the culture of design from the inside out. These women weren’t talking about hope in abstract terms. They were living it, designing it into being.

And let’s be honest: it has been hard. Between global instability, climate disasters, the rollback of rights, economic pressure, and the constant background hum of burnout, it can feel countercultural to keep imagining better futures. But design is inherently future-facing. Whether we’re creating a medical wearable, a system of support for a patient, or a vessel for shared meaning—we’re always in conversation with tomorrow.

Sometimes, that conversation is technical. Sometimes, it’s philosophical. And sometimes, it’s deeply personal.

For me, that dialogue often happens through clay.

In my studio, I make large ceramic vessels—coiled by hand, textured with slips and oxides, and fired until the surfaces crack and reveal layers of transformation. These pieces aren’t about beauty or perfection. They’re my response to climate grief, especially the long, slow disasters like drought and erosion. They’re how I process the overwhelming scale of what’s happening in the world—by shaping it, literally, into something I can hold.

There’s nothing passive about that process. Clay resists. It collapses. The kiln introduces chaos. And yet, I return to it because it grounds me. My ceramics practice is not separate from my design work—it’s the well I draw from. It reminds me that making is a form of meaning-making. That even in the face of loss or uncertainty, our hands can still create.

In earlier writing, I described creativity as a natural pathway—one shaped by instinct, iteration, and trust. When I’m working in clay, I feel that path most clearly. It’s intuitive. It’s physical. I’m not designing for a user or testing for scale. I’m listening. I’m responding. I’m giving form to emotion, tension, hope, and frustration—all of it. My recent work deals with drought because it’s something I can’t stop thinking about. The ground drying up. The surface cracking. The idea of something vital disappearing. Through my vessels, I can process those fears in a way that feels active, not paralyzing.

When I coil the clay, there’s a rhythm. When I fire it, there’s surrender. When the piece comes out—changed, scorched, scarred—it holds a narrative that didn’t exist before. And often, I didn’t know what it would say until I saw it finished. That, to me, is hope in physical form. Not a glossy outcome, but a mark of having passed through something difficult and come out the other side, altered but intact.

And that’s the part I’ve come to understand as hope.

Not the idea that everything will be okay—but the decision to make something anyway. To participate. To stay in the conversation.

I see this same spirit in so many women designers I know. Whether they’re working on equitable tech, gender-responsive products, or advocacy within institutions, they’re not waiting for perfect conditions. They’re doing the work. They’re shaping the conversation. The Women in Design Committee has shown me again and again that progress often looks like this: a little bit of clarity, a lot of persistence, and a shared belief that things can move forward—even if just a few degrees at a time.

There is also something profoundly hopeful in the way women often approach complexity—not by simplifying it or pushing it aside, but by holding it. Balancing competing priorities. Making room for ambiguity. Designing solutions that don’t ignore context but embrace it. Whether that’s a product that adapts to changing bodies, a workspace that accommodates caregiving, or a platform that centers underrepresented voices, women designers are constantly expanding the definition of what design can be—and who it’s for.

And isn’t that the most hopeful thing of all? That we keep showing up?

Hope isn’t naïve. It’s not passive. It’s built from hours, from iterations, from the small courageous decisions we make in the face of constraint. It’s built from care and curiosity and showing up again, even when we’re tired. Especially then.

I don’t always know if what I make will work. In ceramics, pieces crack. Kilns fail. In design, prototypes don’t always land. Budgets get cut. Teams shift. But I keep making. We keep making. Because through that act, we’re building not just products—but possibility.

And that’s what I want to leave you with. Not the kind of hope that demands a silver lining or a five-point plan. But the kind that lives in your hands. The kind you carry quietly into the studio, or the meeting, or the classroom. The kind that grows through practice. Through presence.

Through making.

—Rebeccah Pailes-Friedman, FIDSA

rpf@getinterwoven.com

Tried and True: Validation and Testing in Soft Goods Wearable Technology

Why Testing Matters

In wearable technology, ideas don’t just live on a screen or in a prototype, they live on the body. That means every design decision, from the angle of a strap to the stretch of a textile, directly impacts how a product feels, functions, and performs in real life. Unlike hard goods, where performance can often be validated through digital simulations or mechanical testing, soft goods require a different level of scrutiny. Comfort, fit, and durability can’t be fully predicted without real-world testing.

At Interwoven Design, we see testing not as a final checkbox before launch, but as an essential part of the design process. It’s how we uncover the subtle issues that CAD files and sketches can’t reveal: a seam that rubs after an hour of wear, a closure that feels intuitive in theory but awkward in practice, or a textile that stretches beautifully in the lab but loses integrity after repeated washing. Testing is how we build confidence in the products we design; for our team, for our clients, and most importantly, for the people who will rely on them. In this Insight article, we’ll outline what’s unique when testing soft goods, testing techniques we use in our studio, the process developing test protocols, and share three case studies that demonstrate the value of testing in wearable tech.

What Makes Soft Goods Testing Unique

Testing photo by Interwoven Design Group

Testing soft goods isn’t just about checking boxes on durability or performance, it’s about validating how a product interacts with the human body. Unlike rigid products, soft goods flex, stretch, and conform, which means the variables multiply. A harness may perform well on one body type but dig uncomfortably into another. A fabric might wick sweat effectively but lose breathability once layered. Even something as subtle as a seam placement can make the difference between a product that feels effortless and one that users abandon. These nuances make testing in soft goods especially critical.

Comfort, ergonomics, and wearability can’t be fully captured by digital modeling or static evaluation. They need to be worn, adjusted, and lived in. At Interwoven Design, we approach testing as both technical and human centered: technical in measuring durability, strength, and performance; human-centered in evaluating comfort, fit, and user experience over time.

The challenges are amplified when technology is integrated. Wearable sensors, power sources, and connectivity components add complexity to already delicate material systems. Ensuring that a textile stretches without disrupting circuitry, or that an engagement mechanism is positioned intuitively, requires iterative testing at every stage. Add to this the reality that soft goods often need to fit a wide range of body types, movements, and environments, and you get a testing landscape that is both demanding and essential.

This is why testing isn’t an afterthought for us, it’s a design driver. By confronting these challenges head-on, we can refine products so they’re not only functional in theory but reliable, comfortable, and intuitive in the real world.

Types of Testing We Use

At Interwoven Design, we see testing as a layered process. Each stage answers a different question: does it hold up, does it feel right, does it work in the real world? By combining technical evaluation with lived experience, we create products that are both reliable and human-centered. Each type of testing reveals different insights, and together they form a comprehensive validation process.

1. In-House Testing as a First Line

Before we send prototypes into the field, we stress-test them in the studio. In-house testing allows our team to push early concepts to failure, observe weak points, and refine design elements quickly. This controlled stage saves time and resources by filtering out obvious flaws before involving external testers or clients.

2. Ergonomic & Fit Testing

Comfort and wearability are non-negotiable for soft goods. We run structured fit trials across diverse body types, tracking everything from pressure points to range of motion. These insights ensure the product adapts to real human variation, not just a single “ideal” model.

3. Durability & Material Testing

From fabric abrasion to seam strength, we evaluate how a product holds up under repeated use. We also test environmental performance—exposing prototypes to heat, humidity, or repeated laundering to anticipate how they’ll age over time. For wearable technology, we also look at how embedded electronics and hardware behave under repeated strain, ensuring sensors, circuits, and connectors remain reliable as materials bend and stretch.

4. User Experience Testing

The most rigorous test is the target audience wearing and interacting with the product. We work closely with end users—nurses, athletes, warehouse workers, patients—to gather qualitative and quantitative feedback. We study ergonomics, comfort, ease of use, and long-term wearability, while the users execute the body movements typical for the wearable, iterating prototypes based on their lived experience. Small adjustments, like repositioning a seam to bolster support or refining adjustability for greater control, can transform acceptance and adoption rates.

Functionality doesn’t stop at fit and durability. We observe how users actually interact with the product in context—how quickly they can don and doff it, how it integrates into workflows, and how intuitive the design feels. These behavioral insights are critical for adoption.

5. Field Testing

Soft goods live in unpredictable environments, so testing them in context is essential. Whether it’s a warehouse, hospital, or outdoor trail, we evaluate products in the environments where they’ll actually be used. This allows us to track how sweat, weather, temperature, or prolonged wear affect performance. Field testing often reveals subtle issues, like unexpected environmental conflicts, that lab conditions can’t replicate.

Developing Test Protocols

No two soft goods projects are alike, and neither are their testing needs. A performance-driven backpack, a medical compression garment, and a wearable sensor system all demand different metrics of success. That’s why at Interwoven Design, we don’t rely on one-size-fits-all checklists. Instead, we collaborate with clients to build test protocols that are tailored to their product, user base, and market context.

The process starts with clarifying priorities: Is the primary concern comfort during extended wear? Durability under heavy load? Compliance with medical or industrial safety standards? From there, we map testing methods to those goals. For example, a healthcare wearable may require protocols aligned with regulatory requirements, while an industrial soft good might emphasize stress testing, longevity, and performance under extreme conditions.

Equally important is balancing quantitative and qualitative feedback. We often combine lab metrics (such as tensile strength or moisture resistance) with user-centered data (comfort, usability, ergonomics). Together, these insights give clients a clear, evidence-based picture of how their product will perform in the real world. By developing test protocols alongside clients, we create not only a validation process but also a shared language. This ensures alignment early, reduces the risk of missteps later, and ultimately results in products that meet both technical standards and human needs.

Case Studies: Testing in Action

Case Study 1: Project Firefly — Validating Reflective Durability

When Red Kap approached Interwoven Design to develop Project Firefly, a new line of reflective Type O workwear garments, one of the most pressing challenges was durability. Reflective materials are essential for worker safety, but in warehouse and industrial settings they face harsh conditions: constant friction from movement, contact with equipment, and repeated exposure to industrial laundering. A material that looked promising on paper could easily fail once subjected to the realities of the job site.

To address this, we incorporated abrasion testing early in the design process. Using our testing methodology, we simulated the high-friction scenarios workers regularly encounter—lifting, bending, kneeling, and brushing against rough surfaces.

By evaluating reflective materials under these stresses, we were able to pinpoint which options maintained their integrity and visibility over time. This testing didn’t just confirm durability; it also informed design decisions, such as strategic placement of reflective elements to minimize wear while maximizing visibility.

The result was a set of garments that met the highest safety standards while withstanding the rigors of warehouse conditions. Abrasion testing proved to be a critical step in validating that the reflective components would perform reliably over the lifespan of the garment, giving both workers and employers confidence that safety would not degrade with use.

Case Study 2: Even Adaptive — Testing for Intuitive, One-Handed Use

For Even Adaptive, Interwoven Design set out to reimagine adaptive lingerie by creating garments that could be put on with the use of a single hand. Unlike traditional lingerie closures, which are often difficult or impossible to manage without two hands, this line demanded a design solution that was not only functional but also elegant, comfortable, and inclusive. At the heart of the project was the development of a custom magnetic clasp; a new closure system designed to empower women with limited mobility while offering a contemporary, stylish alternative to the outdated adaptive lingerie on the market. From the start, our delivery team knew that validation with the target audience would be key to our process.

We conducted testing sessions with women who had the use of only one hand, observing how they interacted with prototypes and gathering real-time feedback. This ensured that the clasp design, garment construction, and finger-loop supports were intuitive, reliable, and easy to operate under everyday conditions. In-house testing confirmed magnet strength, clasp durability, and comfort against the skin, while user trials revealed small but critical refinements—such as adjusting clasp engagement force and loop placement—that made the product seamless in practice.

The result is a line of adaptive lingerie that feels both functional and beautiful, bridging accessibility and style in a way that had not existed before. The success of this validation-driven design process was recognized at the highest levels: Even Adaptive won the Professional Award in the Personal Accessories category at the 2023 Core77 Design Awards and was named an Honoree in Fast Company’s Innovation by Design Awards, Accessible Design category. These accolades affirm not only the product’s innovation but also the importance of rigorous, user-centered testing in bringing meaningful, inclusive solutions to market.

Case Study 3: SABER Military Exosuit — Field Testing for Real-World Performance

Developing the SABER Military Exosuit for the U.S. Army required more than theoretical models or lab simulations. To ensure the exosuit could meet the demanding physical and operational needs of soldiers, Interwoven Design partnered closely with Vanderbilt’s Zelik Lab and conducted extensive field testing with the 101st Airborne Division at Fort Campbell. Observing soldiers in their natural work environment allowed the team to understand not just lifting movements, but the full range of activities—including carrying gear, navigating obstacles, and performing operational tasks—that the exosuit would need to support without restricting mobility.

Through iterative prototyping and in-field trials, we validated key aspects of the design, from the placement and tension of elastic bands to the comfort of shoulder straps and thigh sleeves over long periods of wear.

101st testing SABER military exoskeleton. Photo by LARRY MCCORMACK.

Soldiers provided real-time feedback on range of motion, heat retention, and overall ergonomics, enabling the team to refine materials, adjust fit, and improve the ease of donning and doffing.This continuous feedback loop was essential in creating a lightweight, breathable, and low-profile exosuit that successfully reduced back strain while remaining unobtrusive in active duty scenarios.

The results were compelling: the SABER exosuit, weighing just 2.7 pounds, reduced over 50 pounds of back strain per lift and improved overall endurance and performance in demanding tasks. Field testing confirmed that the design was intuitive, comfortable, and effective for extended wear, demonstrating how rigorous validation with the target audience is crucial for wearable technologies, particularly those intended for extreme or high-stakes environments.

Building Confidence Through Testing

At Interwoven Design, testing is more than a checklist, it’s a mindset. It embodies curiosity, validation, and iteration, ensuring that every concept not only works but feels intuitive, comfortable, and human-centered. Rigorous testing allows ideas to evolve from sketches and prototypes into products that perform reliably in real-world conditions, whether that means a reflective workwear garment, adaptive lingerie, or a wearable exosuit for military or industrial use.

Validation reduces risk, inspires trust, and ultimately delivers better outcomes for both users and clients. By engaging with testing early and often, Interwoven ensures that products meet functional, ergonomic, and experiential goals before they reach production. Far from being a hurdle, testing is a powerful tool for innovation; a way to explore possibilities, uncover hidden challenges, and refine solutions with confidence. Prospective clients are invited to collaborate with Interwoven to develop tailored test protocols that align with their vision, needs, and user requirements, transforming ideas into products that are not only effective but also thoughtfully designed for real human use.

Interwoven Design is a design consultancy that is positioned at the intersection of soft goods and wearable technology, creating products that function with the body and offer comfort as well as the superb performance that arises through the innovative incorporation of rigid, often electronic and responsive elements. Sign up for our newsletter and follow us on Instagram and LinkedIn for design news, multi-media recommendations, and to learn more about product design and development!

Building Ideas: The Role of Conceptual Mock-Ups in Soft Goods Design

Thinking in Three Dimensions

Design rarely happens in a straight line. In soft goods design, where products must conform to the body, support movement, and feel comfortable in real-world use, mock-ups are especially crucial. Subtle differences in fit, tension, or material behavior can completely change how a garment or wearable feels, yet these nuances are often invisible in drawings or CAD renderings. Rough 3D models allow designers to evaluate ergonomics, assess how straps, seams, or closures interact with the body, and ensure that the product performs intuitively and comfortably before a higher fidelity prototype is made.

While drawings and digital files are powerful tools, they can only go so far. Sometimes the only way to know whether a curve feels natural in the hand, a hinge aligns with joint movement, or a strap sits comfortably across the body is to build it in the real world, however roughly. That’s where conceptual mock-ups come in. These early, low-fidelity models aren’t meant to be polished or permanent; they’re tools for thinking. They expose hidden challenges, spark unexpected directions, and make the abstract tangible. Just as importantly, they allow both designers and clients to engage with an idea in ways that are more intuitive than a flat image or diagram could ever provide.

At Interwoven Design, we see mock-ups as a bridge between imagination and execution. Building in 3D is how we explore questions that sketches can’t answer, and it’s how we make sure our concepts are grounded in the realities of human use. For us, mock-ups aren’t just a stage in the process; they’re an act of curiosity, iteration, and craft that defines how ideas come to life. In this Insight article, we’ll discuss the value of mock-ups, outline various methods of making them, and share three case studies of studio projects that showcase the ability of mock-ups to elevate the design process at every level of fidelity.

Why We Build to Think

Design is, at its core, a process of discovery. Even the most carefully considered sketch or digital model can miss details that only emerge when something is built in physical space. By working in three dimensions, designers invite surprise into the process, sometimes confirming assumptions, other times revealing issues that couldn’t have been predicted on paper.

Conceptual mock-ups are powerful because they shift the question from “Does this look right?” to “Does this work in real life?” A quick foam cut-out can reveal that a button is too far for the thumb to reach, or that a curve looks elegant in renderings but feels awkward when held. Fabric mock-ups can show how material drapes, stretches, or resists movement, helping teams anticipate comfort and durability before investing in higher-fidelity prototypes.

Just as importantly, building early and often keeps the design process agile. A mock-up doesn’t have to be precious; in fact, its roughness is part of the point. The less time invested, the easier it is to test, critique, and move on. This freedom encourages exploration rather than perfectionism, giving space for bolder ideas to emerge and evolve.

At Interwoven Design, we use mock-ups not just to validate concepts, but to provoke questions. What happens if this element shifts by an inch? How does the design change if the material is softer, stiffer, lighter? Every build is a chance to learn something new, and often those discoveries become the foundation for the next round of design.

Methods of Mock-Up Making

There’s no one right way to make a conceptual mock-up, only the method that best suits the question at hand. Also, we never make just one! Sometimes the goal is to understand form and scale, other times it’s about testing flexibility, ergonomics, or how a feature behaves when it meets the body. Because of this, the process often spans a wide spectrum of materials and techniques, from the scrappiest cardboard approximation to precision 3D prints.

Paper and Foam Models
When speed matters, nothing beats the simplicity of paper, foam, or cardboard. These materials are quick to cut, shape, and tape together, allowing designers to test proportions, angles, and spatial relationships in minutes. They’re the fastest way to move an idea out of a sketchbook and into the real world. At Interwoven Design, we love paper as a tool, as it behaves a lot like a textile.

Fabric and Soft Goods Constructions
For wearables or textile-based products, mock-ups made from muslin, mesh, or other inexpensive fabrics can reveal how a design drapes, folds, and moves against the body. These rough-sewn models often expose ergonomic insights that drawings can’t capture, like how a strap pulls across the shoulder or how a pocket can be accessed in motion.

Digital-to-Physical Hybrids
Sometimes, precision is the priority. Tools like 3D printing, laser cutting, or CNC machining allow teams to translate digital models into physical parts with exact dimensions. These methods are especially valuable when testing components that interact mechanically or when verifying that multiple parts fit together as intended. Like the design process itself, mock-up making is rarely linear. A paper sketch model may inspire a fabric iteration, which then sparks a 3D-printed test. Each build answers some questions while raising others, creating a feedback loop that moves the design steadily closer to resolution.

At Interwoven Design, we embrace this iterative mix—shifting tools and materials as needed to keep ideas moving and evolving. We are nearly always combining soft goods and hard goods in the same product, and we use a range of construction methods to build the components needed to test the interaction between the two.

Mock-Ups as Communication Tools

Mock-ups are more than internal design aids, they are powerful tools for communication. A sketch can suggest form, and a CAD file can demonstrate function, but nothing replaces the clarity of a physical object. When stakeholders can hold, wear, or manipulate a mock-up, abstract ideas become concrete. The conversation shifts from speculation to lived experience.

For clients, this means gaining confidence that the product is on the right track. Engineers can assess feasibility, materials, and assembly details. Users, meanwhile, provide feedback that is grounded in the reality of use rather than imagination. Each group engages with the same artifact, but through their own lens, creating a richer and more specific dialogue.

This shared understanding is critical. By aligning expectations early in the process, mock-ups reduce the risk of costly misunderstandings later. Questions of scale, ergonomics, or usability are resolved in the physical world rather than in post-production fixes. In this way, mock-ups not only accelerate collaboration but also protect both the integrity of the design and the efficiency of the project timeline.

Case Studies: Mock-Ups in Action

Case Study 1: The Breg CrossRunner™ Soft Knee Brace

When Breg set out to reinvent their soft knee brace line, they partnered with Interwoven Design to merge engineering precision with human-centered comfort. The challenge was to create a premium brace that could address a wide spectrum of injuries and instabilities while remaining easy to use, breathable, and adaptable to different body types.

Early in the process, mock-ups played a critical role: foam models and fabric constructions allowed the team to explore how hinges aligned with anatomy, how straps wrapped and adjusted, and how materials compressed or released tension in motion.

These quick builds revealed insights that sketches alone couldn’t capture, helping refine ergonomics, donning sequences, and user comfort long before committing to a final design direction. By iterating through mock-ups, the team established a design language that balanced sleek aesthetics with technical performance. The result, the Breg CrossRunner™ Soft Knee Brace, exemplifies how physical mock-ups can bridge vision and execution, ensuring that every detail—fit, function, and feel—was tested and validated in three dimensions.

Case Study 2: The Perci Emergency Preparedness Vest

When INVICTA Ready set out to design a product that could help families face the growing threat of natural disasters, they partnered with Interwoven Design to create something intuitive, wearable, and life-saving: the Perci Emergency Preparedness Vest. The challenge was complex: developing a garment that could store and organize critical supplies, remain comfortable during rapid evacuations, and be universally adaptable across diverse users.

Early mock-ups were essential in shaping the vest’s design: muslin and fabric prototypes allowed the team to test how tools and essentials could be organized into categories, ensuring each pocket was ergonomic, accessible, and balanced against the body.

These rough builds revealed whether wearers could move freely—carrying a child, lifting luggage, or running—without being restricted by bulk or weight distribution. These iterative mock-ups uncovered design insights that made the vest both practical and confidence-inspiring: reflective icons and graphic labeling clarified what each pocket contained, while ergonomic patterning and stretch panels improved comfort and mobility. The inclusion of a collapsible hood, internal storage systems, and integration with a companion mobile app extended its functionality, making the vest a true system for preparedness rather than just a garment.

Recognized internationally, the Perci Vest won Gold in Industrial and Life Science Design – Safety Designs and Bronze in Design for Society at the 2022 International Design Awards (IDA). The project underscores the value of mock-ups as more than just prototypes: they were the means of simulating real-world scenarios, uncovering challenges, and validating design decisions. For the Interwoven Design delivery team, building in three dimensions was the key to transforming the abstract concept of “preparedness” into a product that is intuitive, wearable, and empowering in moments of crisis.

Case Study 3: The HeroWear Apex Exosuit

Warehouse work places enormous strain on the body. Long shifts, hot environments, and constant bending and lifting often leave workers fatigued and injured, especially in the lower back. When a team from Vanderbilt’s Center for Rehabilitation Engineering & Assistive Technology developed a proof-of-concept for a mechanical exoskeleton, they partnered with Interwoven Design to transform their idea into a fully commercialized product: the HeroWear Apex Exosuit. Mock-ups were central to the exosuit’s design process. Our delivery team built garment and hardware mock-ups to test placement of mechanical components, optimize body heat management, and fine-tune ergonomics in real time.

Dozens of soft goods mock-ups were created and tested, shaping the design’s modular fit system, strength adjustability, and range of motion. By iterating through muslin mock-ups to increasingly high fidelity prototypes, the team ensured that the exosuit was not only effective in reducing strain but also intuitive and comfortable enough to gain worker acceptance, an essential factor for adoption on the job floor.

The final design balances technology with wearability: lightweight, breathable, and easy to don and doff, the Apex relieves more than 50 pounds of strain from the lower back. Its garment-based system manages body heat while remaining easy to clean and maintain, enabling daily use in demanding environments. The Apex Exosuit has been celebrated internationally, winning Gold at the 2021 IDEA International Design Excellence Awards (Commercial & Industrial), Platinum at the 2020 Spark Design Awards, and recognition as a 2021 Core77 Design Awards Notable winner (Commercial Equipment). These honors highlight not only the strength of the final product but also the value of mock-ups and iterative design in transforming breakthrough research into a scalable, worker-centered solution.

Building Toward Better Ideas

In soft goods design, mock-ups are more than a step in the process, they are essential to understanding how a product interacts with the body. They transform abstract concepts into tangible experiences, allowing designers to evaluate fit, tension, mobility, and comfort in ways that sketches or digital models alone cannot. This hands-on approach fosters a studio culture of experimentation, openness to failure, and playful discovery, while balancing intuition with practical constraints.

At Interwoven Design, building mock-ups, whether for wearable braces, ergonomic vests, or modular exosuits, brings ideas to life, revealing hidden opportunities and guiding iteration. By seeing, touching, and testing concepts in three dimensions, we ensure that every soft goods product is not only functional and durable, but also intuitive, human-centered, and aligned with real-world use. In short, making shapes the trajectory of design, producing solutions that resonate with both people and their bodies.

Breakthroughs by Design: How Women Lead Transformative Processes

This article, written by Rebeccah Pailes-Friedman, was published in the Spring 2025 Issue of IDSA’s INNOVATION Magazine.

When we talk about design breakthroughs, we often picture the end result: a futuristic object, a viral prototype, a sleek product that redefines its category. But equally powerful — and less celebrated — are the breakthroughs happening behind the scenes. These are the moments when designers shift the process itself: reimagining how ideas are generated, how people collaborate, and who gets to shape the outcome. And more often than not, it’s women who are leading these shifts.

For this column, I spoke with a few designers whose process innovations are driving the kind of quiet revolutions that rarely get headlines but deeply impact our field. Their approaches don’t rely on shock value or singular genius. Instead, they reflect a deeper, more inclusive vision of what innovation can be- one built on systems thinking, empathy, and collective authorship. Storytelling is a key component in creating a connection between a consumer and the product. The story connects the physical object to the consumer’s emotions. These emotional responses can be powerful, creating a bond between the consumer and the product as well as, crucially, cultivating brand loyalty. Packaging, in particular, has evolved to become part of the product experience, as demonstrated by the plethora of unboxing videos on TikTok, YouTube, and Instagram.

Designing With, Not For: Community-Led Processes

For Hannah Berkin-Harper, IDSA, industrial designer, educator, and the design lead at Street Lab, a nonprofit that creates pop-up programming and placemaking in New York City, design is inseparable from community. Her breakthrough isn’t a product-it’s a process rooted in community engagement and experimentation. “One of the amazing things about designing for pop-ups is the ability to deliver instant transformation of the streetscape that is reactive to community needs,” she says. “We prototype anything we are thinking about and get it out there for people to try. While the end result might take some time, we work together through an iterative process and pilot pop-ups that can lead to more lasting change.”

The result? Solutions that reflect lived experience rather than imposed assumptions. This kind of participatory model pushes back against traditional industrial design workflows, which often isolate designers from the people they serve. It also challenges the idea that designers must lead with answers. Instead, designers become facilitators— stewards of a process that allows insight to emerge organically. In many ways, it’s a radical act of humility.

Rethinking What a “Prototype” Can Be

For Swati Piparsania, Assistant Professor of Industrial Design at Pratt Institute, the body itself becomes the prototype. Her work explores how we choreograph ourselves in space— how design, architecture, and objects shape movement, posture, and behavior. Drawing from sculpture, dance, and performance, Piparsania creates embodied experiences that function as both critique and exploration.

Rather than beginning with sketches or 3D models, her process often starts with a question: What does it feel like to be surveilled? To be constrained by a built system? To reclaim space? From there, she constructs sculptural interventions and wearable provocations that elicit response from the body-awkwardness, tension, release. These reactions become her feedback loop.

In this process, the prototype is not a static thing but a temporal experience. It unfolds through use, reflection, and iteration. Piparsania’s work challenges conventional design tools by making room for emotion, resistance, and improvisation. It blurs the line between object and action, and reframes prototyping as a space for embodied inquiry.

Piparsania says, “I deeply care about social and environmental issues, and I wonder how I get here. Maybe it’s an outcome of being a student of an alternative education system, where many systems of power were challenged and questioned. Then as a designer, our ‘solutions’ were about offering a breadth of possibilities that countered, expanded, and restructured these narratives.”

Her approach is a reminder that not all testing happens in labs-and not all insights come from measuring outcomes. Sometimes the most transformative ideas emerge when we let the body speak first.

Designing Futures with Fiction

Ari Elefterin, a transdisciplinary designer and professor at Parsons School of Design, uses embodied experience as both a method and a site of design innovation. Their project 100 Ways of Sitting invites participants to explore the act of sitting. The prompt is simple, but the outcome is profound: a heightened awareness of the body, environment, and social norms that shape how we occupy space. This exercise can reveal layers of social, spatial, and emotional awareness. Rather than treating the body as a passive recipient of design, Elefterin uses it as an active site of inquiry. Each sitting position becomes a way to ask different questions about comfort, visibility, vulnerability, power, and presence. The project is both poetic and practical, a design method that starts with experience and leads to insight.

In a related project, 100 Ways of Sensorially Connecting with Nature, Elefterin expands this inquiry outward, inviting participants to engage with the natural world through a series of sensory exercises. Some are straightforward, involving only the body; others are more layered, incorporating tool-making-like creating a raft of balloons to float on your breath- analog amplification devices to listen to a lakebed, or a hollow log telescope to see and hear water from the perspective of a tree. These small acts foster a deeper, more intimate connection to the environment. It’s a process that resists quantification but leads to insight about our bodies, our surroundings, and our responsibilities as designers.

Elefterin’s practice represents a breakthrough not in product, but in process. By centering sensory perception and embodied awareness, their work challenges the dominance of visual and functional logic in industrial design. It opens space for more intuitive, ecological, and relational ways of making. In doing so, it offers a model for how design can begin with presence and lead to transformation.

This kind of work, often dismissed as “too conceptual,” is increasingly proving its value in reframing what design is for and whose futures it should serve.

Circular Thinking as a Starting Point

Process breakthroughs also show up in how some designers approach materials and systems, starting not with the product, but with the waste. Rather than asking, “What should we make?” these designers begin by asking, “What materials already exist, and how might they guide what we design?” This reverse-briefing strategy reframes sustainability not as a feature to layer on later, but as the starting condition of the design process itself.

This systems-first mindset leads to radically different outcomes: garments made from agricultural byproducts, objects designed to be taken apart as easily as they’re assembled, or products that can return to the supply chain rather than the landfill. The goal isn’t just to reduce harm, it’s to rethink what design makes possible when waste becomes resource and constraint becomes opportunity.

It’s not a new tool-it’s a shift in framing. And when sustainability is embedded from the beginning, it opens space for new priorities, aesthetics, and lifecycles to emerge.

Designing for Ambiguity

Not all breakthroughs come from certainty. In fact, some of the most impactful process innovations happen when designers intentionally create space for ambiguity. Instead of rushing toward a defined solution, these approaches hold questions open longer, allowing space for reflection, tension, and unexpected insight.

Take the practice of ambiguity-led design, where teams delay the “problem definition” phase to sit with complexity. In healthcare, for instance, this might mean shadowing caregivers without a brief. In social design, it might involve long-term observation before forming a hypothesis. These methods resist the pressure to define too quickly, recognizing that a too-narrow scope can shut down possibilities.

One design researcher in our WID network, Dr. Elham Morshedzadeh, frames it this way: “Ambiguity isn’t a gap to fix—it’s where the real work begins.” This mindset reframes uncertainty as fertile ground rather than failure. By allowing room for open-ended exploration, these designers shift the process from linear to iterative, from transactional to relational. It’s not about working slower: it’s about working more openly. And in a time of accelerated timelines and high-pressure innovation cycles, that openness itself becomes radical.

Breakthroughs in Leadership

Sometimes, the most transformative shift isn’t in a material or method, but in the structure of the team itself. Ayse Birsel co-founder of the design studio Birsel + Seck, exemplifies this by applying her design principles not only to products but also to organizational leadership.

Birsel’s approach, detailed in her book Design the Life You Love, emphasizes deconstructing and reconstructing aspects of life and work to align with one’s values and aspirations. She encourages leaders to view their organizations as design projects, fostering environments that prioritize empathy, collaboration, and adaptability.

In her workshops and writings, Birsel advocates for a leadership style that is inclusive and participatory. By involving team members in the design process of their work environments, she believes organizations can cultivate a sense of ownership and purpose among employees. This method not only enhances team cohesion but also drives innovation by leveraging diverse perspectives.

Birsel’s philosophy underscores the idea that leadership is not a static role but a dynamic process that benefits from continuous reflection and redesign. By embracing design thinking in leadership, she demonstrates how organizations can evolve to meet the changing needs of their teams and the broader market.

The Process Is the Product

In a moment when everyone is looking for the next big thing, these designers remind us that some of the most meaningful breakthroughs are already underway in the ways we listen, collaborate, and imagine. They’re designing not just objects or experiences, but new models for how design itself happens.

And if we want to build a more inclusive, equitable, and future-ready design culture, we’d be wise to start there.

Note: Al assistance was used during the early stages of developing this article, specifically for brainstorming topic directions and outlining structure. All final content and writing are original and authored by the writer.

– Rebeccah Pailes-Friedman, FIDSA

rpf@getinterwoven.com

rpailes@pratt.edu

Rigid to Responsive: The Evolution of Outdoor Softgoods

From Hard Shell to Soft Shell

Outdoor gear has undergone a profound transformation over the last thirty years. Where products once focused solely on shielding users from the elements, prioritizing rigidity, protection, and brute durability—they now emphasize movement, comfort, and adaptability. This shift represents more than just better materials. It reflects a new philosophy in product design: one that centers the user’s experience, not just their survival.

In outdoor soft goods, this evolution is visible everywhere, from breathable technical jackets that feel like a second skin to backpacks that mold to the human form. Designers are no longer just engineering gear to withstand the elements; they’re crafting tools that enhance how we live, explore, and perform in outdoor spaces.

This design revolution is being shaped by human needs: for agility, for connection, for gear that feels intuitive. Soft goods—textile-based products like apparel, backpacks, harnesses, and medical wearables—have emerged at the forefront of this change, offering solutions that align with the way people actually move and behave.

At the forefront of this evolution are specialized soft goods studios like Interwoven Design, which are advancing the field through deep research, ergonomic expertise, and thoughtful design. At our studio, soft goods are treated as wearable systems—engineered to support real people in real contexts. Whether serving healthcare professionals, outdoor athletes, or even animals, the studio applies a rigorous, user-centered design process that blends research, prototyping, and testing.

In this Insight article, we’ll discuss the three phases of the transformation of outdoor soft goods and provide a few product examples that typify the style. Each era brought new materials, priorities, and philosophies that shaped how products were built as well as how people used them. Let’s take a closer look at how we got here—and where this niche corner of the soft goods world is heading.

Phase 1: Structure is King

The Structure-Dominant Era (1990s–Early 2000s)

The 1990s marked a time when outdoor gear prioritized maximum protection, often at the expense of comfort and flexibility. Products were designed to endure harsh environments through rigidity and strength, using heavyweight materials and reinforced construction. These products were marketed for their rugged durability and stressed extreme utilitarian value, designed to be hardcore products for hardcore users.

GORE-TEX Shells as Armor: Jackets like the Arc’teryx Alpha SV (1998) were constructed with heavy-duty 3-layer GORE‑TEX, delivering full waterproofing and durability. They offered protection in extreme conditions but were often stiff, bulky, and lacked breathability.
Framed Backpacks: Packs like the Dana Design Terraplane used massive internal frames and heavy Cordura fabric. Though praised for their robustness, they were notorious for their weight, some tipping the scale at over 7 pounds when empty.
Mountaineering Boots: Footwear such as the La Sportiva Nepal Extreme featured stiff full-shank soles, thick leather uppers, and heavy insulation. Built for high-altitude performance and technical terrain, these boots provided unmatched support and durability, but were rigid and uncomfortable for long approaches or everyday use.

It’s a testament to the functionality of these products that they are all still on the market today. The Structure-Dominant Era established the foundation of modern outdoor gear, emphasizing strength, protection, and durability above all else. While often heavy and rigid, the products of this time were engineered to withstand extreme environments and earned a reputation for reliability and toughness. However, this singular focus on endurance often came at the cost of comfort and adaptability, and appealed to the extreme end of the outdoor market. As user expectations evolved and materials advanced, the limitations of this approach became clear, paving the way for a more balanced approach.

Phase 2: Performance Meets Comfort

The Hybrid Functionality Era (Mid-2000s–2015)

By the mid-2000s, a new design mindset began to take hold. Outdoor gear no longer had to choose between protection and comfort, advancements in materials and construction made it possible to have both. This era was marked by the integration of breathable membranes, lighter fabrics, and ergonomic adjustments that responded more intelligently to the human body. Gear became more modular and customizable, allowing users to fine-tune their equipment for specific activities or conditions. A growing awareness of user experience signaled a major shift toward more human-centered outdoor design.

Ventilated & Adjustable Backpacks: The Osprey Atmos (2005) introduced a tensioned mesh back panel that allowed for airflow between the user and the pack, reducing sweat and increasing comfort on long hikes. Combined with adjustable hip belts and modular lid systems, this design reflected a growing emphasis on breathability, load distribution, and personalized fit.
Body-Mapped Fabrics: Garments from brands like Salomon and Marmot began integrating zone-specific materials for targeted breathability, stretch, or insulation. These designs moved away from uniform construction and toward dynamic apparel that responded to different parts of the body, supporting both performance and comfort in a range of conditions.
Convertible & Multi-Use Garments: Pieces like the Patagonia Simple Guide Pants or REI’s zip-off hiking trousers embodied versatility. Designed to adapt to shifting weather and activities, they often featured articulated knees, adjustable hems, and convertible options, bridging the gap between gear designed for performance and clothing suited for comfort and travel

The Hybrid Functionality Era marked a pivotal transition from rugged, utilitarian gear to more versatile, user-responsive designs. By incorporating modular features, lighter materials, and targeted performance zones, designers began balancing protection with comfort and adaptability. It’s not a coincidence that the outdoor gear of this era begins to overlap stylistically with sportswear, shifting from boxy, heavy forms to streamlined, ergonomic forms that often used some of the same performance materials.

Phase 3: Flexibility First

The Human-Centered Flexibility Era (2015–Present)

Beginning in the mid-2010s, outdoor design entered a new phase, one driven by flexibility, softness, and seamless integration with the human body. No longer content with simply reducing weight or adding breathability, designers began rethinking the entire relationship between gear and user. The focus shifted to how products feel in motion, how they adapt to different activities, and how they support long-term comfort without compromise. This era is characterized by textiles that stretch, breathe, and insulate dynamically, along with gear that anticipates and responds to the user’s needs in real time. Functionality became embedded, not added on, blurring the line between technical equipment and wearable systems.

Wear-All-Day Technical Apparel: The North Face FutureLight (2019) introduced a soft, stretchy, waterproof fabric that redefined shell performance. Unlike the stiff, crinkly shells of earlier generations, FutureLight was designed to be worn continuously, whether hiking, climbing, or transitioning between weather systems. Similarly, Patagonia’s Nano-Air (2014) and Arc’teryx’s Proton series offered breathable insulation layers that moved with the body, eliminating the need to remove or swap layers during activity.
Stretch-Integrated Backpacks: Packs like the Hyperlite Mountain Gear Junction or the updated Gregory Zulu integrated flexible panels, harness systems, and body-conforming shapes. These designs moved beyond rigid framing and embraced soft structure, offering support while adapting to different body types, movements, and load shifts across terrain.
Minimalist Footwear: The rise of lightweight trail shoes like the Altra Lone Peak and HOKA Speedgoat marked a departure from heavy, armored boots. With wide toe boxes, cushioned midsoles, and responsive rock plates, these shoes prioritized natural foot movement and fatigue reduction over brute protection, reflecting a broader shift toward gear that works with the body, not against it.

The Human-Centered Flexibility Era redefined outdoor gear as an extension of the body rather than just a shield against the environment. By prioritizing dynamic comfort, adaptability, and intuitive use, this era reflects a matured understanding of outdoor users’ needs. Gear is no longer designed for one function or one condition, it’s built to move, shift, and respond. As materials and technologies continue to evolve, this era sets the foundation for even smarter, more personalized soft goods design in the years ahead.

The Future is Flexible

As we look to the future of outdoor design, soft goods are set to play a pivotal role at the intersection of technology, sustainability, and emotional connection. Next-generation textiles and design systems will offer a new kind of intelligence: one that not only protects but learns, adapts, and responds. Tomorrow’s outdoor gear won’t just perform in the elements, it will understand the user, minimize environmental impact, and offer a more personal relationship with the product itself. This future is already beginning to take shape across three key frontiers:

Project “Lumanit” by Interwoven Design Group

Smart Textiles
Emerging materials equipped with embedded sensors or reactive fibers are enabling apparel and gear to adjust dynamically based on environmental and physiological inputs. For example, Polartec Delta is engineered to increase airflow and reduce wet clinging during intense activity, while more experimental prototypes like MIT’s “Second Skin” suit explore clothing that opens and closes ventilation flaps based on body temperature. These innovations point to a future where garments can actively manage temperature, moisture, and pressure in real time.
Sustainable Materials
As outdoor users become more conscious of their environmental footprint, the industry is shifting toward biodegradable, bio-based, and recyclable materials. Companies like Vaude are pioneering fully compostable backpacks, while Norrøna has integrated ocean-recycled nylon into its technical apparel. These shifts go beyond trend, they represent a systemic change in how gear is made, used, and disposed of, aligning product development with regenerative design principles.
Emotional Design
Beyond performance and sustainability, future soft goods will increasingly speak to identity and meaning. Whether it’s gear that tells a story through localized materials or customizable elements that allow users to imprint their personality, emotional resonance is becoming a design priority. Cotopaxi, for instance, uses remnant materials to create one-of-a-kind packs that reflect a commitment to both resourcefulness and individuality. In this model, products aren’t just tools—they become companions and symbols of personal values and lived experience.

Studios like Interwoven Design play a vital role at this soft goods frontier, bringing together advanced materials, human factors research, and an agile design approach to redefine what soft goods can be. Rather than treating products as static, independent tools, Interwoven Design creates tailored systems that respond to human behavior, activity, and comfort. The studio philosophy? Soft goods should adapt to the user, not the other way around.