design collaboration Archives

A Q&A with Functional Prototypes Expert Jacob Turetsky

Spotlight articles shine a light on designers we admire, asking leaders in the field about their work and their design journey. This month’s Spotlight focuses on Functional Prototypes, the working, testing, problem-revealing models that turn ideas into something you can actually use. Functional prototypes rarely look polished. In fact, they often look wrong. But for Jacob Turetsky, that’s exactly the point.

In this Spotlight interview, Jacob reflects on why functional prototypes matter, how they shape better products, and why failure when designed intentionally can be the most valuable outcome of all. In this conversation, he shares his process, his philosophy, and why functional prototypes are the backbone of meaningful product development.

Q:

Can you describe a moment when functional prototypes failed so clearly that it completely changed the direction of a project?

A:

While working at a large ergonomics-focused product company, we were developing a stacking chair that included a subtle amount of active recline. The idea was to rely on the frame of the chair itself to create that movement, without adding a complex mechanism.

I quickly built a prototype using CNC plywood panels to mimic a kind of spring action happening in the lower corner of the chair leg. Structurally, it made sense. But no matter what we did, every time someone leaned back, it would pull their shirt out of their pants if it was tucked in.

It turns out that recline needs to happen as close as possible to the human hip, which is difficult because that’s exactly where your body is already sitting. Our pivot point was dramatically far from where it needed to be. Even though it worked from a construction standpoint, it completely failed ergonomically.

That prototype forced us to abandon the idea of relying solely on the frame. We moved to more complicated mechanisms that brought the action closer to the body. We built another prototype that had a cluster of potential pivot points in the right region, full of holes and adjustable pins. We could move things a quarter inch at a time and test them with people.

It didn’t look like a finished product at all. It was messy and riddled with holes. But only after that process could we move forward and actually design the chair.

Q:

For readers who may not be familiar with the term, how do you define a functional prototype? What separates it from a model or visual mockup?

A:

To me, a functional prototype is about answering the riskiest questions as early as possible—when those questions are still cheap and easy to fix.

Every design has assumptions. A functional prototype lets you isolate those assumptions and test them before you layer on additional detail. It’s not about surface or appearance yet.

You’re looking at how components relate to each other, how the user interacts with the system, and whether the overall architecture works. Drawings and visual models can only take you so far. When you need to know how something actually feels, moves, or behaves, you have to build it.

Q:

Why are functional prototypes so critical, especially in hardware, wearables, and integrated systems?

A:

Design is hard. And the design process really demands that we get answers to the riskiest questions early.

Functional prototypes allow you to test assumptions when it’s still okay to pivot—when changes don’t feel like mistakes or failures. You’re able to ask, “What are we testing right now?” and “How many versions should we build?” before committing to anything expensive or overly refined.

That’s what functional prototyping is about for me. It’s figuring out how things relate—between components, between the product and the user—before worrying about how it looks.

Q:

What makes functional prototypes successful?

A:

The most important question is whether it gave you the answer you needed.

A successful functional prototype is very well scoped. If something isn’t being tested, it should be over-engineered so it doesn’t interfere with the result. You don’t want flex or instability in one area creating a “mushy” feeling somewhere else and confusing the outcome.

I actually think one of the most boring outcomes is when a prototype works exactly as expected and doesn’t reveal anything new. A good prototype should teach you something—ideally something unexpected.

Q:

You’ve worked across design engineering, product development, and hands-on prototyping. What first drew you toward making things work in the real world?

A:

It’s hard for me to point to one specific moment. It really feels like a chain of experiences mixed with some luck.

I grew up building things and tinkering. Early on, I wanted to be a car designer, which led me to industrial design and then to furniture. I had a furniture internship that went badly—I had a severe allergic reaction to exotic wood and realized I didn’t want to be milling cabinets every day.

At the same time, I was working on a medical design project at Pratt, and that completely shifted my perspective. I loved the process of taking an idea, pinning it up, building on someone else’s thinking, and then making something that actually assembled and functioned.

Suddenly, we were creating things that had never existed before. That was far more interesting to me than just building objects. I still build things with my hands, but now it’s more of a hobby. What really captured me was thinking through how mechanisms work and why one approach works better than another.

Q:

Looking back, what experience most shaped your approach to prototyping?

A:

Early on, I learned that designing a prototype is often separate from designing the final product.

Sometimes you need a prototype that’s adjustable. You need to test different lengths, pivot points, or ranges of motion. In environments where the work is mission-critical and function-first, prototyping becomes central to the design process because you can only learn so much from drawings or static models.

I remember working on a mobility device where everyone had different ideas about wheel placement and handlebar positions. We built a single, highly adjustable prototype using basic extrusions so we could test all of those ideas in one model.

That experience reinforced something I still believe strongly: functional prototypes don’t need to be beautiful, but they do need to be neat, intentional, and well thought through. In many ways, a functional prototype is its own design.

Q:

When starting a project, how do you go from an idea to a working prototype?

A:

I really trust the design process. I usually start by defining what I call the architecture of the product. That means stepping back from materials and finishes and asking more fundamental questions.

Is it vertical or horizontal? How do the components relate to each other and to the user? I try to answer the biggest questions first and then work inward, narrowing the scope as I go.

I’ve learned that trusting this process is far more reliable than waiting for a single stroke of genius. It’s also much more valuable to clients because it creates clarity early on.

Q:

You often work in environments where time is short and the stakes are high. How do you decide what “level of fidelity” is right for each stage of prototyping?

A:

A lot of it comes down to education. Some clients see a prototype that doesn’t work as a failure, so part of the job is framing prototyping as learning.

I always imagine being in the room when the prototype doesn’t work. If I’d feel embarrassed, then it’s too expensive or too high-fidelity for that stage. At that point, I’d rather rewind a week and build two cheaper versions.

Q:

How do you avoid perfecting things too early—or too late?

A:

It’s about knowing where you are in the process and what questions you’re supposed to be answering at that moment.

If your first prototype is machined out of aluminum, you’re in trouble. If it lights up and moves and does everything at once, you’ve gone too far. Early prototypes should be cheap, fast, and iterative.

Letting time, materials, and scope set boundaries is important. Those constraints help you avoid over-investing before you’ve learned what you need to learn.

Q:

You’ve collaborated with designers, engineers, and researchers. What makes a cross-disciplinary team successful when you’re building prototypes under real-world constraints?

A:

On cross-disciplinary teams, I often act as the hub. It’s important to let subject-matter experts focus on what they do best, but designers also need to advocate for the user.

You don’t need to become an expert in everything, but you do need to learn enough of each discipline’s language to collaborate effectively. Ultimately, the designer’s role is to fight for the human experience and make sure the system works for the person using it.

Q:

Looking ahead, what skills or mindsets will the next generation of prototypers need most?

A:

With tools like 3D printing, it’s very easy to add detail too early. You have to learn when to stop.

Print it. Test it. Move on. Don’t keep refining something in CAD just because you can. Earlier in my career, tools naturally limited how far you could go. Now you have to create those limits yourself.

Functional prototyping is about answering questions quickly—about getting things to work or not work as fast as possible. That mindset is more important than any single tool.

—

Check out the rest of our Spotlight series to hear more from leaders in the design industry. 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!

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Designing for Manufacture: Inside the Soft Goods Tech Pack

From Concept to Creation

Every great product begins with a spark of creativity—a sketch, a mood board, a prototype. But in order for that idea to become a physical object, it needs more than inspiration. It needs precision. Technical design is the step that translates vision into manufacturable reality, turning abstract concepts into clear instructions that factories can execute.

At the heart of this process is the technical design pack, or “tech pack.” It is more than just a set of drawings. A tech pack is a comprehensive roadmap and outlines exactly how a product is built, down to the smallest stitch, seam, or material choice. Without it, even the most innovative wearable or softgoods design are at risk being misinterpreted or poorly executed in production.

At Interwoven Design, we view technical design as a creative act in itself. It is a discipline that ensures ideas retain their integrity as they move from the studio to the factory floor. In this article, we outline what a tech pack includes, why it matters, and how we use it to bridge the gap between concept and creation.

What is a Technical Design Pack?

A technical design pack (tech pack) is the universal language between designers and manufacturers. It ensures that everyone—from patternmakers to production partners—shares the same understanding of how a product is meant to look, feel, and function. Think of it as the blueprint for softgoods and wearable technology. A typical tech pack includes:

Technical Drawings & Callouts
Precise line drawings with notes on construction details, stitching, seams, hardware, and placement.
Bill of Materials (BOM)
A complete breakdown of all materials and components. It includes fabrics, foams, fasteners, sensors—required to build the product.
Measurements & Grading
Dimensions, tolerances, and size variations to ensure consistent fit across different body types or product sizes.
Assembly Instructions
Step-by-step construction methods that guide how pieces come together, whether sewn, bonded, or mechanically fastened.
Testing & Performance Standards
Requirements for durability, washability, strength, or medical-grade compliance, depending on the product category.
Labeling & Branding
Placement of logos, care instructions, or certifications that connect the product to its brand identity and compliance needs.

Perci Emergency Preparedness Vest Branding

At its core, the tech pack is about clarity and accountability. It creates a shared framework where manufacturers know exactly what to deliver—and designers can trust the product will match their intent.

Why Technical Design Matters

Without a clear technical foundation, even the most brilliant creative concept risks breaking down in production. Technical design ensures that wearable products are not only beautiful and functional but also manufacturable, repeatable, and safe for users.

For softgoods and wearable technology, this precision becomes even more critical:

Integration of Textiles and Hardware
A garment that incorporates sensors or mechanical components must balance flexibility, comfort, and durability. Tech packs detail how fabrics stretch, where reinforcements are placed, and how electronics are housed without compromising user comfort.
Consistency at Scale
A prototype may be hand-built with care, but manufacturers need exact instructions to replicate that quality across hundreds or thousands of units. Tech packs standardize stitching, finishes, and tolerances so every piece delivers the same performance.
Risk Reduction
By spelling out materials, testing requirements, and construction methods, technical design minimizes costly production errors and prevents miscommunication with suppliers.
User-Centered Reliability
In wearables, failure isn’t just inconvenient—it can mean loss of trust. Technical documentation ensures durability and reliability in real-world contexts, whether that’s a medical device worn 24/7 or a back-assist exosuit in a warehouse.

In short, technical design translates creativity into reality. It bridges the gap between the designer’s vision and the user’s everyday experience, ensuring that innovation holds up in practice.

Inside an Interwoven Design Tech Pack

Every product we design—whether it’s a medical brace or adaptive lingerie—requires a set of technical design assets that guide manufacturers from concept to production.

These documents are roadmaps that ensure the integrity of the design across fit, function, and user experience. This matters even more in the case studies below, where we integrate hard goods and soft goods within the same wearable. Alongside the tech pack, we create a high-fidelity mockup that serves as a companion to the technical specs, bringing them into three dimensions and demonstrating complex construction at scale.

Case Study 1: Breg CrossRunner™ Soft Knee Brace

For the Breg CrossRunner™ Soft Knee Brace, precision was non-negotiable. The brace needed to fit a wide range of leg shapes while maintaining consistent hinge placement—essential for safe, effective joint support.

Interwoven Design developed custom leg forms to represent each size, then engineered a size grading system that scaled patterns evenly without shifting key hinge locations. We created multi-layered technical drawings to capture every detail of the brace’s flaps, straps, and fabric panels. By translating these patterns into CAD and supporting the manufacturing team through sample reviews, we ensured the final product matched the vision: a premium brace that’s both supportive and comfortable.

Case Study 2: Even Adaptive Lingerie

For Even Adaptive lingerie, the tech pack became the bridge between inclusive innovation and manufacturable detail. Alongside garment design, we developed a magnetized clasp system that users could operate with one hand.

Our industrial design and garment design teams worked in parallel, using 3D-printed prototypes with embedded magnets to test usability, strength, and comfort. We documented each iteration in technical drawings and specifications so manufacturers clearly understood how to integrate the clasp into the fabric without compromising softness or fit. The result was a low-profile, reliable closure that delivered on both aesthetics and accessibility.

From Documentation to Collaboration

At Interwoven Design, we see tech packs not only as instructions for manufacturers, but as living tools. These align every stakeholder in the process, from clients and engineers to production partners. A strong pack captures the full intent of a design: the dimensions, construction methods, materials, finishes, and functional details that define how a product should look, feel, and perform. By consolidating all of this into a single, reliable reference, everyone involved—from brand stakeholders reviewing the concept to factory technicians cutting patterns—works from the same shared vision.

But we also know that design doesn’t end at handoff. Even the most detailed tech pack is only part of the equation. Manufacturing is an iterative process, and unexpected challenges can arise when ideas meet real-world production. That’s why success depends on pairing precision documentation with open, ongoing relationships with manufacturers. At Interwoven, we don’t just pass off a tech pack. We stay engaged throughout production, reviewing prototypes, answering questions, and refining details.

This collaborative approach helps bridge logistical gaps, ensures that subtle but important design decisions are preserved, and reduces costly missteps. A well-crafted tech pack minimizes guesswork, but it’s the combination of clear documentation and active partnership that guarantees the best outcomes: products that deliver on both creative vision and practical performance.

Precision as a Creative Act

Technical design is where creativity transforms into reality. The sketches, prototypes, and ideas that spark innovation become manufacturable products through careful documentation and technical rigor. At Interwoven Design, our expertise lies in creating these assets with the same care we bring to concepting and design. So, we ensure every product we hand off is made with accuracy, quality, and intent.

If you’re looking to take your concept from an idea to a market-ready product, we’d love to partner with you. With our vision and professional-grade technical documentation, we turn your ideas into fully realized products.

Interwoven Design is a design consultancy positioned at the intersection of soft goods and wearable technology. Sign up for our newsletter and follow us on Instagram and LinkedIn to learn more about design and development!

Rebeccah Pailes-Friedman & Aybüke Şahin on Bridging Hard and Soft Goods in Industrial Design

Spotlight articles shine a light on designers we admire, asking leaders in the field about their work and their design journey. For this Spotlight conversation, Interwoven founder Rebeccah Pailes-Friedman sits down with Aybüke Şahin, a Senior Industrial Designer who recently marked her fifth year with the studio. What begins as a casual conversation quickly turns into an expansive dialogue on what sets soft goods apart from traditional product design, why prototyping with fabric requires intuition as much as tools, and how the studio’s hybrid expertise shapes innovation across consumer, medical, and lifestyle categories.

In this rare peer-to-peer exchange, Rebeccah and Aybüke open up about shifting user expectations, navigating clients with very different design cultures, and how understanding human behavior continues to shape the way Interwoven brings ideas to life.

RPF: Okay, let’s get started. First, I just want to say thank you for taking some time out of your busy day to have this conversation about soft goods.

AS: Yes, absolutely—this is fun. We’re usually deep in projects, so it’s nice to step back and talk about how we actually approach the work.

RPF: So, to begin with, how long have you worked here now?

AS: It’s been a full five years.

RPF: Amazing. It went by fast.

RPF: What do you think is the biggest difference between traditional industrial design and the kind of soft goods work we do here at Interwoven?

a designer references a sketch of a buckle while prototyping — *Hands-on with fabric prototypes at Interwoven to understand material behavior.*

AS: I think the way we think about problems—or not even problems, but the conditions that come with softer materials like fabrics—are really different. In traditional hard goods, it’s sometimes easier to imagine things on paper or in CAD with rapid prototyping. But with fabric, we can imagine something and then it ends up behaving completely differently when we actually prototype it. I find there’s more back-and-forth, more revisions, especially in how components interact with softer materials.

RPF: I know exactly what you mean. Textiles behave differently than any other material. When you’re working in plastic or metal, the sky’s the limit—whatever you can CAD, you can produce. But with textiles, you’re limited by how the material behaves. You have to understand the material’s behavior in order to design something effective.

AS: So Rebeccah, in your expertise—and you’ve been in the field for quite some time now—how do you think user behaviors in relation to wearables or soft goods shape the way we prototype and test?

RPF: I think it all comes down to people’s behavior—how they move, how they feel comfortable. If something is uncomfortable, it literally changes the way you behave. Think about how dress clothes used to be the norm. Who wants to wear a dress shirt or a blazer now? You can’t move your arms, you can’t breathe—it’s physically restricting. I think that shift in tolerance—people just aren’t willing to be uncomfortable anymore—is huge. Understanding human behavior and translating that into the products we design is a core part of what we do. And you really saw that shift during the pandemic. People got used to wearing comfortable clothing at home and now they don’t want to go back to discomfort. That changes how we think about designing soft goods.

AS: I totally agree. And soft goods is definitely growing as an industry. When we first started doing this, there weren’t many people in the space who did what we do. Now there are a lot more. There’s more research, more product development, and more technologies popping up that incorporate wearable or soft systems.

RPF: Yeah, and it all comes back to how people want better experiences—something that’s easier to use, something that gives them value in their daily life.

Arete Swatch team consideration — *Interwoven’s design process involves testing and iterating materials to uncover their unique properties.*

AS: Exactly. But with soft goods, it’s not that simple. You can imagine something perfectly in your head, or even draw it out precisely, but the moment you start working with the fabric, it surprises you. Textiles behave in really unique ways. They stretch, fold, collapse, resist—things you can’t always predict until you physically make the piece.

RPF: Yes! With textiles, behavior is everything. When you’re designing in metal or plastic, you’re only limited by the constraints of your tooling or manufacturing method. But with textiles, you’re also designing within the behavior of the material. If you don’t understand how it drapes, stretches, or responds to tension, you’re lost.

AS: That’s why I think our design process here often involves more back-and-forth between ideation and physical prototyping. There’s more revision, more iteration, because the material itself is such a big part of the equation.

RPF: It’s funny—sometimes the constraints of fabric can be frustrating, but they also force you to get creative. And over time, we’ve built our own internal “library” of material behaviors and techniques. It’s experience, but also intuition.

AS: And it’s collaborative. We learn from each other all the time here—about materials, patterning, construction, testing. It’s not just about getting a good idea out; it’s about translating that idea into something functional, wearable, and manufacturable.

AS: So building on that—let’s talk about our methodology for designing comfortable, inclusive, and high-performing soft goods?

RPF: It’s not just about softness or flexibility. It’s about how products move with your body, how they accommodate different sizes and shapes. Designing for comfort now means understanding biomechanics, posture, and even emotional cues.

AS: It’s part of why soft goods are growing so quickly as a category. There’s more demand, more innovation, more cross-pollination between fashion, health, tech, and lifestyle. When we started doing this work, there weren’t a lot of people combining design and engineering in this way. Now it’s really taking off.

Rebeccah Pailes-Friedman and Aybüke Şahin in conversation at Interwoven studio, seated at a white table with books in the background.

RPF: Another thing I think sets our work apart at Interwoven is the way we merge soft and hard components. I’ve always been drawn to that crossover, and it was one of the reasons I was so excited to bring you onto the team—your background in hard goods really expanded what we could do.

AS: Thank you! I’ve really enjoyed that part of the work—figuring out how to integrate structural components like electronics, batteries, or sensors into wearable products without compromising comfort.

RPF: There’s a long tradition of wearing textiles, of course—clothing has been around forever—but there’s not a long tradition of integrating textiles with technology. It’s still relatively new. We’ve been on the forefront of this field for over 15 years.

AS: That’s what makes this work so exciting. Depending on the product category—whether it’s medical, travel, lifestyle—we have to adapt our approach. The way we combine soft and hard materials changes depending on regulatory standards, user context, durability needs, even washability.

RPF: We’ve developed a methodology, but it’s flexible. Every project brings new questions. And our experience becomes this evolving library that we draw from—but never apply in exactly the same way twice.

AS: We’ve worked on projects where even the smallest detail—like the orientation of a seam or the coating on a zipper—can make or break the user experience.

RPF: Yes. And I think this is especially true in health and medical products. More and more, users expect those products to offer experiences, not just functions. They want something intuitive, comfortable, attractive—not just technically correct.

AS: That was a big part of our work on the Even Adaptive lingerie line. It needed to function for people with limited mobility, but it also had to feel empowering. It had to look good. It couldn’t just scream “assistive device.”

RPF: Exactly. It had to be part of a person’s daily life, not a constant reminder of their limitations. And I think the final result really achieved that. It wasn’t just helpful—it was beautiful. And it ended up being useful for more people than we originally imagined.

AS: That’s one of my favorite kinds of outcomes: when inclusive design leads to better design for everyone.

RPF: Let’s switch gears for a moment. Over the years, we’ve worked on all kinds of products, but one of the more recent launches was the SharkNinja FrostVault cooler backpack. What did you find particularly interesting—or challenging—about that project?

AS: A lot, actually. First, working with the SharkNinja team was really interesting. Their internal process is very fast-paced, and different from ours. They had multiple teams working on different parts of the product simultaneously, so we weren’t always privy to the full picture. That made collaboration a little tricky sometimes.

RPF: Yes, I remember feeling like we were coming in to solve parts of a puzzle, but we weren’t always sure what the final image would be.

A woman sitting outdoors using the SharkNinja FrostVault cooler backpack, with food stored in its compartments. — *SharkNinja FrostVault combines structure and soft straps for comfort.*

AS: Exactly. That said, I really enjoyed the challenge. From a product standpoint, it was technically fascinating. We had to think about waterproofing, insulation, internal organization—all while making it wearable and comfortable.

RPF: And even though the exterior was technically textile-covered, it wasn’t a soft good in the traditional sense. Most of the bag was rigid, with plastic-coated fabric to repel water. The true soft goods component was the strap system.

AS: That’s where we had the most impact—designing for fit and comfort across a range of body types. I remember testing on you and Anthony and realizing how much the same strap design could feel completely different depending on the user.

RPF: It was a real lesson in anthropometrics. And it goes back to that idea of merging hard and soft—making something that performs structurally but feels good on the body.

AS: There was also the challenge of sealing off the internal compartments. One section needed to stay cold and insulated, while the upper section needed to be separate for dry storage. Getting that internal seal right—without adding bulk—was no small feat.

RPF: It was a tight balance between design, engineering, and user comfort. But the final product is really strong, and I think our collaboration with their team made it better.

RPF: One thing I’ve noticed is that we often partner with teams who share similar skills to us—but not our specific expertise. We’re frequently brought in to bridge gaps, especially when it comes to human interaction and wearability.

AS: Yes, and I really enjoy that. Sometimes we work with an engineering team that knows everything about mechanics, but hasn’t thought much about how something will actually feel on the body. Or we work with an industrial design team that hasn’t dealt with textiles before.

RPF: It’s a good reminder that design is never one-size-fits-all. It’s always collaborative, always context-driven.

RPF: Okay, time for a fun question: What’s one soft goods or wearable product you absolutely can’t live without?

AS: I have two! First is my sleep mask. It’s simple, but I love it. It covers my eyes and has a puffy filling—not just dense foam. The headband is really soft and comfortable. I use it every night.

RPF: That’s a good one. And the second?

AS: My dog’s harness and leash! I’ve gone through so many versions to find the right one—something he’s comfortable wearing, that I can easily use, and that doesn’t mess up his fur. One of them even made him limp because of how it applied pressure to his shoulder. I didn’t realize a harness could do that until I switched to a different one and the limp disappeared.

RPF: Wow. That really shows how critical good soft goods design is—even for pets. Pressure distribution, material selection, adjustability—it all matters.

AS: It does. It’s made me hyper-aware of how even small design choices can have huge consequences for comfort and safety.

RPF: That really brings it full circle. What we do here—whether it’s for people or pets, medical or lifestyle—comes down to paying attention. To behavior, to comfort, to context.

AS: Exactly. And honestly, this has been really nice. We work next to each other every day, but we rarely stop and have a full conversation like this.

RPF: I know! This was so fun—and a great way to mark five years. Here’s to the next chapter.

—

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A Q&A with Biomaterials Expert Mitchell Heinrich

Spotlight articles shine a light on designers and design materials we admire. Our founder and principal designer Rebeccah Pailes-Friedman has met many wonderful designers in her time in the industry, and in our Spotlight interviews we ask them about their work, their design journey, and what inspires them. In this interview we spoke with Mitchell Heinrich, the CEO and founder of What For Design and a consultant for biomaterials innovator Checkerspot. We’ve mentioned Checkerspot before, in our post about sustainable prototyping materials. Mitchell has worked on the development of Checkerspot’s algae-based biomaterials for years. He has also worked with innovative companies like Bolt Threads, and Google X to imagine how biomaterials might show up in our lives and offer sustainable solutions to big issues. We asked him about how he got into material innovation, what makes a material sustainable, and what advice he has for designers who want to incorporate biomaterials into their practice.

“Often the role of the designer is to find the commonalities and the connective tissue between different skill sets and meld them together to create a new story.”

Q: How did your collaboration with Checkerspot start?

A: Early in the pandemic I was looking for new work and new opportunities, specifically in biomaterials. I’d heard about Checkerspot because they’re local to me here in Oakland, California.I I reached out on a whim to Charlie, the CEO, and said, You know, I’ve got a background doing product R&D specifically with bio materials. I’m really excited about your technology. I’d love to see it succeed in the world and see if there is any way that we could collaborate.

He and I had a number of phone calls early on, just understanding where we were both coming from. We realized that we were basically both on the same journey of trying to commercialize biomaterials and to displace a lot of the less sustainable materials that are out there in the world. We found a lot of mutual interest and mutual respect. I started working with the business development side of things. This new material…what does it want to be when it grows up? How can it be the world? That’s how it started. My first project with them was essentially getting buckets of goop and trying to figure out: what are some really charismatic and interesting embodiments that help to tell the story of the materials and how can it be applied to the real world and solve problems.

Q: What are some of the unique properties of Checkerspot’s sustainable materials, and how do they differ from traditional materials?

A: First, It’s good to get a sense of the underlying technology, which is a fermentation process that uses an algae to create an oil. It’s almost like brewing beer but instead of getting alcohol at the end, you’re getting this oil. The oil is interesting because it is this base material that can be applied to a whole range of different products and applications

In the same way that fossil fuels and petroleum are put into the plastic shopping bags that you use, they’re in skin care products, many other oils are used in cooking, things of that nature. So, similarly, the Checkerspot algae oil has a whole range of applications, including cooking including skincare, plastics, and plastic replacements. Where I have focused is on the plastic side. It’s essentially an algae-based polyurethane, which can be a rigid and very durable material. It has these great properties in that, through different formulations, you can also come out with something that’s very flexible, which is compliant and accommodating for certain applications. As a polymer it has this great range. This is a bit of the reverse commute for a designer. Instead of thinking about an application and trying to select the most appropriate materials for it, I’ve got this material that has these amorphous properties and I get to figure out what applications might make the most sense. Then I go build them and see how they perform.

Q: Did you have any parameters around the kinds of things you might make?

A: I decided that, because of my ethos and what I’m trying to do here, I was aiming for things that have the most impact: objects through which I felt the materials could gain traction quickly, where the consumer’s willingness to pay in that particular product category was good enough, so I wasn’t just chasing the cheapest possible product. Also objects in which the material was really going to sing. It had to have a reason to be. We’re not just making more landfill, we’re making a meaningful replacement that’s going to last a long time.

I got to thinking about different product verticals and different types of consumers. I thought about action sports, which often take place outdoors. You’re already thinking about the environment because you’re partaking in the bounty of nature: hiking, skiing, camping, surfing. Those consumers are already predisposed to thinking more about the materials that they’re using in the products they’re buying. I thought about surfing fins, skateboard wheels, things in that world.

I also thought about culinary applications. There’s an analogy in the organic food movement. Slow food is this wonderful success story about how we went from everybody just assuming that conventional farming was the way to go, it’s all about throwing as much fertilizer as you can on that field to be as productive as possible. But you lose flavor, you lose the land over time, right? You’re pulling all of the nutrients instead of thinking cyclically. So I’m trying to get products into the culinary world, where people are already thinking about sustainable ecosystems and circular economies. What products do people in that world need that might include a polymer like this? They might need knife handles, cutlery, things like that. I’m very fortunate that I get to partake in these kinds of projects. It’s kind of a dream for an industrial designer to have total blue sky projects.

Q: How did you start getting into material innovation yourself?

A: Earlier in my career I worked on a lot of renewable energy technologies, both at the small, human scale—charging laptops, charging phones, using renewable energy, especially in the development world—and then also at the utility scale—big wind turbines. I ended up joining Google X, the special projects team at Google, and was part of the early pipeline team. We were thinking about what Google X should be working on. What are those big challenging problems in the world? And one of the things that I got really interested in was the constituents of the landfill. What do we throw away? I combed through what data I could find around what we throw away and how we might mediate or remediate some of those issues. One of the big ones was textiles. We throw away an incredible amount of textile. Fast fashion, speculative buying, all of this, and I came across a company called Bolt Threads. They’re a materials company that was working on a spider silk polymer that would be spun into a fiber that would then have high performance characteristics and could potentially replace some of the less sustainable materials like polyesters.

I tried to figure out how to get Google X to either acquire them or fund them or otherwise bolster their efforts but it turned out they had everything that they needed. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, though. It was this little nugget of insight that I couldn’t let go of. I approached them and said, Hey, here’s a bunch of ideas for how I can imagine your materials showing up in the world. You can have these ideas. I became their director of special projects and worked at Bolt Threads for about four and a half years. I ran their product R&D group. It was similar to my role at Checkerspot, partnering with the deep scientific bench. How can we adjust these polymers to make them perform this way?

Q: How have designers and manufacturers responded to these innovative materials?

A: Biomaterials is still in this early stage wherein the materials that are developed exist in a bit of an echo chamber. There’s a materials world that a lot of these products get launched into, and not a lot of them break out of that smaller world. I did see some successes at Bolt Threads. We did a spider silk knit tie and that got a lot of press. We sent our very first one to Stan Lee, the Marvel comics icon. The biggest challenge for biomaterials is getting awareness in the general public about why it’s important, why it’s useful, and what’s different about it.

Q: How does Checkerspot ensure that its materials are environmentally friendly throughout their entire lifecycle, from production to disposal?

A: That’s a really complicated question because a lot of people think, when they first come across a new material, especially as a designer, historically speaking the most important question that they think to ask is, What happens when you’re done? Can you put it in the compost bin? While that’s a very charismatic end of life—when you don’t feel like you’re putting something in the landfill, you’re putting it back into this nutrient cycle— that’s just one small piece of the whole puzzle.

When I think about the sustainability of materials, I think about the feed stocks that are going into it. Are you digging it out of the ground? Is it petroleum based, or is it extractive in some way? If it’s a bio-based material, are you feeding it sugar? Where’s that sugar coming from? Is this clear-cutting the Amazon rainforest to plant sugarcane or palm oil to feed these materials? Does it require a ton of fertilizer? You need to think very far upstream. Another thing that I think a lot about is what is its useful life. This is more on the product embodiment side but is there a way to not have a product at all? If it does need to be, is there a way to make it something that can be shared or to make it last for years and years and years? The lifespan of a product can often come down to material properties. An example is when a friend of mine recently had to replace this dishwasher because one of the hoses had depolymerized, it basically turned into goop because it was seven years old. The rest of the dishwasher was fine but the damaged hose sprayed water all over the electronics and then it was dead. Had they used a different material in that one three dollar part, his dishwasher could have had a more useful life. Of course the end of life is a big deal as well. What do you do with it when you’re done?

Checkerspot as a company is evolving and learning, they’re building and iterating on their materials to date. They’ve focused a lot on those feedstock and longevity issues. They’re starting to look at what that end-of-life holding looks like with the Checkerspot material.

Q: What does your research and development process look like, or what might it look like?

A: I do a lot of sketching, thinking, 3D modeling, and physical fabrication. It’s about, What can it be? And then, How do I make the best possible version of that to see if it has legs for the Checkerspot team? They have an amazing, vertically integrated group; everything from people who are designing the genome of an algae to people processing the fermentation and then processing the result of the fermentation, and people extracting the oils and figuring out what to do with the biomass so that it can be put back into the process. Then they also have a retail company that is designing and selling backcountry skis. It’s wild. They’re taking their own materials and applying them in the world, and they’re using that as an extension of the lab so that they can understand how they’re performing and how they can do better. They then feed that back in all the way back to the beginning. Always asking, Is there some tweak we can make to the algae’s molecular structure so that we can have a higher performing, better material?

I’ve had the opportunity to work with a bunch of folks throughout that spectrum, mostly on the polymer science side but a little bit on the fermentation side as well.

Q: What are some exciting new materials or applications that you’re currently working on?

A: One of the most exciting things that I’m working on came to me as a result of the pandemic. I was thinking about isolation and how we were all stuck in one place with our lives mediated by screens. Here I was playing with his new material that has interesting properties, and I could make whatever shape I wanted. At the same time, I was seeking more analog experiences and teaching myself how to do different electronics projects. I got a record player and I was playing records, and it dawned on me that I should be making records out of biomaterials. So, I did.

Records are made of PVC, one of the materials most toxic to humans and the environment, and they’re seeing an incredible resurgence in popularity. They’re the highest selling media format right now, they overtook CDs. A lot of people are buying records for that analog experience, so much so that the record industry can’t keep up with demand. There’s not enough record production capacity, and the people who make the machines that make the records are booked out for years in advance. So here’s this new technology, that’s a more sustainable material and that can also make playable records. When you look at a record, the audio component of it is really just the geometry on the micron scale. The Checkerspot material can easily take the shape of something at that scale. I’m essentially getting oldies from the record store and duplicating them to play around. How can I increase the audio fidelity? How can I figure out how to scale up production to be able to meet demand and to try to displace some of that gnarly PVC out there?

Q: What advice would you give to industrial designers who are interested in incorporating sustainable materials into their work, but don’t know where to start?

A: It can be super intimidating. I felt the same way because I was pretty far along in my career when I started working with biomaterials. I felt like I was starting over because I had to learn all about how fermentation processes work and how this biology fits in. As a designer you think about materials, but a lot of it has to do with the tactile component. With biomaterials, we’re starting to talk about the molecular component. You have to go a lot deeper. My advice would be, first and foremost, getting your hands dirty. The way that I can get up to speed the quickest is by just trying. I’m a tangible learner and I think a lot of people in the design field are, it’s probably a self-selecting group in that way.

Another thing that I’ve noticed is that there’s a lot of interest in biomaterials, so people are creating these open source libraries, basically handing out recipes. That can be really helpful in understanding the components that you need in order to make a material. You often need an aggregate and a binder. Maybe you’re getting coffee grounds as your aggregate to give your material structure, and then using some sort of agar as the binder. Some of these recipes just use stuff that you can get from the grocery store. That’s an easy way to start playing around without a lot of cost.

The other thing is to hang out with people that know more than you do. For me working at places like Bolt Threads and Checkerspot meant being surrounded by a lot of folks with completely different areas of knowledge. I would seek them out and ask questions and like, What do you do every day? What does it look like when you’re doing this bench science?

I tend to be the person who connects the dots. Often the role of the designer is to find the commonalities and the connective tissue between different skill sets and meld them together to create a new story. It’s like designing yourself; who are the people you can go and talk to to build more of that connective tissue?

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