Industrial design Archives - Page 12 of 17

Beyond Devices: The Future of Smart Textiles

For years, wearable technology has been defined by devices; watches, bands, clips, and sensors attached to the body. These products brought computing closer to us, but they remained distinct objects, layered onto daily life rather than fully integrated within it. Today, that boundary is beginning to dissolve. Advances in miniaturization, materials, and fabrication are enabling a new generation of wearable technology that is built directly into what we wear. Electronics are becoming so small, flexible, and adaptable that they can be embedded into fibers, yarns, and fabrics, transforming textiles into intelligent systems. In this emerging paradigm, clothing transforms from a passive to an active layer; capable of sensing, communicating, and supporting the body in real time.

At Interwoven Design, we operate at the intersection of soft goods, wearable technology, and human-centered design. Our team brings together expertise in textiles, engineering, and product development to translate complex technologies into wearable solutions that feel intuitive and natural. In this Insight article, we explore how smart textiles are redefining wearable technology, and the design challenges that come with embedding intelligence into fabric. We also examine IARPA’s SMART ePANTS program as a case study in how next-generation textile systems are being developed and what they signal for the future of wearable design across industries.

From Wearables to Woven Systems

Early wearable technologies succeeded by attaching intelligence to the body. Devices were clipped, strapped, or adhered, creating a clear distinction between the user and the technology. While effective, this approach introduced friction, both physical and cognitive. Devices had to be managed, charged, positioned, and maintained.

A flexible circuit with sensor pad, PCB, power module, and surface-mount components integrated into a knit textile alongside conductive threads and stitching, illustrating smart textile construction — Sensors, circuitry, and power integrated directly into the fabric. The electronics are not attached to the textile; they are part of it.

Smart textiles represent a fundamental shift away from this model. Instead of discrete objects, intelligence becomes distributed across the garment itself. Sensors, conductive pathways, and responsive elements are integrated into the fabric, allowing the entire system to function as a cohesive whole. The garment is no longer a carrier of technology; it is the technology.

This shift enables interaction that is continuous and embedded in daily life. Rather than engaging with a device, users inhabit a system. Clothing can sense movement, monitor physiological signals, respond to environmental changes, and communicate data without requiring direct input. At the core of this transformation is the rapid miniaturization of electronic components. Sensors, conductors, power sources, and processing units are shrinking to the point where they can be incorporated into fibers and yarns without compromising flexibility or comfort. Conductive threads can function as wiring, while micro-scale sensors can be embedded directly into the structure of a textile.

This evolution changes how designers think about materials. Electronics shift from separate components to be housed within a product to intrinsic properties of the material itself. A fabric can conduct, sense, heat, or transmit information, not because something has been added to it, but because it has been engineered to do so at a fundamental level. As a result, the role of design expands. Decisions about weave structure, fiber composition, and material layering become as critical as traditional considerations like form and enclosure. Designing a smart textile is not just about integrating technology, it is about orchestrating performance at the level of the material system.

The Challenges of Translation

For designers, the central challenge of smart textiles is not simply technical integration, it is experiential translation. Electronics and textiles are fundamentally different systems, governed by opposing constraints. One is rigid, precise, and sensitive; the other is soft, adaptive, and expected to endure constant movement, friction, and environmental exposure. Bridging these worlds requires more than embedding components into fabric; it demands rethinking how products are conceived from the ground up. Traditional product design often treats materials as a means of housing or protecting internal components. In smart textiles, the material is the system. Decisions about fiber composition, knit structure, layering, and seam construction directly impact not only comfort and durability, but also electrical performance. Stretch, for example, is no longer just a fit consideration, it affects conductivity, signal stability, and sensor accuracy. Similarly, the placement of seams or zones of tension can influence how reliably a system performs over time.

Inside view of an Interwoven concept garment for SMART ePANTS. Conductive channels follow the seams, making construction decisions inseparable from electrical performance.

Designing at this level introduces a new set of constraints that must be balanced simultaneously. A garment must stretch, but not in ways that compromise embedded circuits. It must be breathable, while still protecting sensitive elements from moisture. It must withstand washing, abrasion, and repeated wear cycles without degrading performance. Each of these requirements influences the others, creating a tightly interdependent system where small decisions can have cascading effects.

Durability and lifecycle are also notable challenges. Unlike traditional electronics, which are often treated as discrete, replaceable objects, smart textiles are expected to behave like clothing: washed frequently, worn in varied conditions, and maintained over time. Designers must consider how these products age, how components are protected or exposed, and what failure looks like. Does the garment continue to function if one element degrades? Can it be repaired, or is it disposable? These questions push design beyond form and function into systems thinking.

Equally important is the user experience. Smart textiles must feel indistinguishable from traditional garments, even as they perform complex functions. This requires careful attention to weight, drape, texture, and fit. Hard points, bulk, or inconsistencies in material can quickly break the illusion, reminding the user that they are wearing a device rather than clothing. The goal is to achieve a level of integration where the technology disappears; where the garment behaves exactly as expected while quietly delivering enhanced capability. Designers must also consider how to communicate functionality through material, form, and experience. Feedback may come through changes in temperature, pressure, or texture rather than visual interfaces. The product must feel reliable and intuitive, even when its most advanced features are hidden from view.

Designing smart textiles is an exercise in reconciliation. It requires aligning the precision of electronics with the fluidity of textiles, the demands of performance with the expectations of comfort, and the complexity of systems with the simplicity of everyday use.

Case Study: SMART ePANTS

An Interwoven designer adjusting the fit of a cream-colored shirt on a fit model during a SMART ePANTS garment development session — A fit model session for an Interwoven garment developed for the SMART ePANTS program, where pattern and fit are refined to keep embedded technology comfortable and unobtrusive in wear.

One of the most ambitious explorations of this concept is the SMART ePANTS program, developed by the Intelligence Advanced Research Projects Activity (IARPA). The initiative focuses on creating fully integrated textile systems: garments that incorporate sensing, power, computation, and communication directly into the fabric.

The goal of SMART ePANTS is to develop clothing that can capture and process information about the wearer and their environment without relying on external devices. Sensors capable of detecting audio, movement, and location are woven into the garment, while conductive fibers act as wiring to connect these systems. Power is supplied through flexible, deformable energy solutions, and data is processed using ultra-low-power electronics embedded within the textile structure.

What distinguishes this program is not any single technology, but the level of integration. Rather than assembling components into a wearable device, SMART ePANTS treats the garment itself as a platform where every element, from fiber to system architecture, contributes to overall performance. The result is a product that maintains the look and feel of everyday clothing while functioning as a sophisticated technological system. This approach has significant implications for design. By embedding intelligence directly into textiles, the need for bulky hardware is reduced, and the user experience becomes more seamless. The garment can be worn naturally, without requiring adjustment or awareness, allowing technology to operate in the background.

From Research to Real-World Applications

While programs like SMART ePANTS are rooted in advanced research, their implications extend far beyond specialized applications. As these technologies mature, they will begin to influence a wide range of industries, from healthcare and wellness to performance apparel and everyday clothing, translating into applications that prioritize comfort, wearability, and seamless integration into daily life. The trajectory is familiar: high-performance, research-driven innovation gradually becomes refined, simplified, and accessible to broader audiences.

In healthcare, this shift is particularly evident. Garments designed for continuous physiological monitoring are moving away from rigid patches and adhesive sensors toward soft, wearable formats that can be worn over extended periods. For example, products like the Hexoskin Smart Shirt integrate sensors directly into the fabric to monitor respiration, heart rate, and activity without requiring additional devices. Similarly, platforms such as the Sensoria Smart Socks embed pressure sensors into knit structures to analyze gait and movement, demonstrating how everyday apparel can double as a data collection system without sacrificing comfort.

Performance apparel is another area where smart textiles are gaining traction. Brands are exploring garments that actively support the body through embedded functionality rather than external hardware. The Ralph Lauren PoloTech Shirt tracks biometric data and streams it to your device, while recovery-focused compression garments incorporate engineered fabrics that enhance circulation and muscle support.

In wellness and lifestyle applications, smart textiles are becoming increasingly discreet and intuitive. Sleep-focused products, posture-correcting garments, and stress-responsive wearables are leveraging soft, flexible materials to deliver benefits without introducing friction into daily routines. Early-stage innovations, such as textiles that can subtly adjust temperature in response to the body or fabrics that incorporate haptic feedback for relaxation, point toward a future where garments play an active role in regulating comfort and well-being.

In industrial and safety contexts, smart textiles are moving beyond rigid equipment toward more wearable solutions. High-visibility clothing with embedded sensors can monitor worker fatigue or environmental conditions, while military and first-responder gear is beginning to incorporate distributed sensing systems that enhance situational awareness without adding bulk.

Across these categories, a consistent pattern emerges: the most successful products are those that translate complex technology into familiar, wearable formats. Rather than introducing entirely new behaviors, they enhance existing ones, turning shirts, socks, and outerwear into platforms for sensing, response, and support. As the underlying technologies continue to mature, the distinction between “technology” and “textile” will become increasingly blurred, paving the way for products that feel less like innovations and more like natural evolutions of what we already wear.

The Future: Textile as Interface, System, and Platform

The future of smart textiles is one where the textile itself becomes the interface, the system, and the platform. Clothing will no longer be a static layer, but an active participant in how we experience the world: sensing, responding, and adapting in real time. For designers, this represents a fundamental shift in how products are conceived and developed. It requires thinking beyond objects and toward systems, beyond components and toward materials, and beyond interaction and toward experience. The challenge is to harness the potential of embedded intelligence while maintaining the qualities that make textiles inherently wearable: softness, flexibility, and comfort. The most successful solutions will not be those that showcase technology, but those that integrate it so seamlessly that it becomes invisible, leaving behind only the experience of wearing something that works effortlessly with the body.

At Interwoven Design, we partner with clients to navigate this evolving landscape, translating emerging technologies into products that balance innovation with usability. By integrating expertise in soft goods, textiles, and wearable systems, we help bring the next generation of smart textiles from concept to reality.

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!

Beyond the Portfolio: Starting a Career in Industrial Design

Product design is evolving rapidly. Across industries, the boundaries between physical products, digital experiences, and wearable systems are becoming increasingly fluid, creating new opportunities for designers. Designers today are expected to think beyond form alone, considering how products function within broader systems of manufacturing, interaction, human behavior, and experience.

For new graduates entering the field, this moment is both exciting and challenging. The range of possible career paths has expanded dramatically, but so have expectations. Many emerging designers find themselves asking the same questions: How do I stand out in a competitive market? What kind of portfolio do design firms actually want to see? How do I gain experience when most opportunities seem to require it already? Navigating the transition from school to industry can feel uncertain, particularly as the profession itself continues to evolve.

At Interwoven Design, we seek new industrial design interns every year, giving us a firsthand perspective on what differentiates successful candidates in today’s hiring landscape. In this Insight article, we explore what studios are actually looking for in new graduates, and how emerging designers can position themselves more strategically as they search for internships and full-time roles. We also examine the power of a point of view, and how to develop meaningful industry connections.

Develop a Point of View

A quality that immediately distinguishes strong emerging designers is the presence of a clear point of view. In a highly competitive hiring landscape, portfolios can begin to look visually similar, featuring comparable software skills, renderings, and project structures. What often separates memorable candidates is a visible sense of curiosity, direction, and intellectual engagement with the kinds of problems they want to solve.

Developing a point of view does not mean locking yourself into a narrow specialty early in your career. One of the advantages of being a new graduate is the freedom to explore different industries, methodologies, and interests. However, employers are often drawn to candidates who demonstrate genuine enthusiasm for particular areas of design, whether that involves wearable technology, medical devices, soft goods, sustainable packaging, furniture, transportation, consumer electronics, or emerging material systems.

A point of view is often communicated subtly through project choices, research topics, material explorations, and even the way a portfolio is organized. A student who consistently explores human-centered healthcare solutions, for example, signals a different perspective than someone focused heavily on speculative consumer electronics or sustainable systems. Neither direction is inherently better, but each tells a story about what motivates the designer and how they think about the role of design in the world.

Developing a point of view is not the same as building a personal brand around aesthetics alone. While visual consistency can be valuable, firms are often more interested in conceptual consistency; evidence that a designer is asking meaningful questions and engaging thoughtfully with a set of ideas over time. This could involve an interest in emotional durability, accessibility, wearable systems, manufacturing innovation, circular design, or the relationship between digital and physical experiences. These through-lines create coherence across projects and help transform a portfolio from a collection of assignments into a reflection of a designer’s perspective. Candidates who can clearly articulate what excites them about design tend to create more engaging and memorable discussions. Employers are not simply hiring for current projects; they are hiring people they can imagine growing alongside future opportunities and challenges.

Understand the System

Once a designer has developed a point of view and a body of work that reflects how they think, the next challenge is often not capability, it is visibility. Many strong candidates struggle because they are unclear about where opportunities exist and how to position themselves within a highly fragmented hiring landscape. Unlike more centralized industries, product design opportunities rarely exist in a single, predictable place. While large companies and well-known studios do post openings on public job boards, many roles are filled through more direct or informal channels. Studio websites remain one of the most consistent sources of opportunities, particularly for internships, where smaller teams often manage hiring directly. Alumni networks also play a significant role, as many designers enter studios through personal or academic connections that extend beyond formal application systems.

For emerging designers, this shifts the application process from reactive to proactive. Rather than waiting for the “right” posting to appear, successful candidates often identify studios whose work aligns with their interests and reach out directly. In these cases, specificity matters. Generic applications tend to disappear quickly, while targeted outreach that demonstrates an understanding of a studio’s focus—whether that is soft goods, wearable technology, consumer electronics, or medical devices—immediately signals intent and relevance.

Timing also plays a role. Many studios operate on flexible hiring cycles, especially for internships. Applying early, even when positions are not formally advertised, can be advantageous, as teams often keep strong candidates in mind when future projects arise. In some cases, opportunities are created in response to interest rather than pre-existing job postings, particularly in smaller or mid-sized practices. Translating work into opportunity is not just about applying widely; it is about applying strategically.

Design Your Outreach

While the portfolio is important, even strong portfolios can go unnoticed if they are not introduced effectively. The reality is that most studios are not short on capable applicants; they are short on time. What often determines whether a portfolio is reviewed in detail is not its quality alone, but how it first enters a studio’s attention. The initial email, message, or application note is a filter that determines if your work is reviewed at all. A well-crafted introduction does not need to be long or overly polished, but it does need to be intentional. Studios are looking for signals of clarity: who you are, what you are interested in, and why you are reaching out to them specifically.

Effective outreach in design is itself an act of design thinking. It requires editing, prioritization, and an understanding of your audience. A strong message typically introduces the designer in a few sentences, highlights one or two relevant projects, and clearly explains why the studio’s work is meaningful to them.

The goal is not to summarize an entire portfolio, but to create enough alignment and curiosity for the reviewer to click through. What tends to weaken applications is not lack of talent, but lack of specificity. Generic messages sent to dozens of studios often read as disconnected from the work they reference. In contrast, even a short message that references a studio’s recent project, design focus, or material approach immediately establishes relevance. This demonstrates that the applicant has taken the time to understand the practice they are engaging with, which is often as important as the work itself.

Outreach does not need to be formal to be effective, but it should be professional, direct, and respectful of the reader’s time. Studios are often reviewing applications between project deadlines, so clarity and brevity are not just stylistic choices, they are practical advantages. This activity, done well, is an extension of a design practice; it requires understanding context, communicating intent, and guiding someone through an experience in a way that feels effortless and considered.

Network for Exposure

While networking can feel transactional at its worst, it should be about building visibility, familiarity, and trust over time. In product design especially, hiring is rarely a single-moment decision. Studios tend to hire people they have seen before, heard about through peers, or encountered multiple times in different contexts. This means that networking is less about one perfect interaction and more about becoming a recognizable presence within the design ecosystem. Exposure, consistency, and clarity of interest matter more than any single conversation. For emerging designers, this shift in perspective is critical. Instead of approaching networking as a performance or a pitch, it becomes an opportunity to engage with the industry in a more natural and ongoing way.

Here are some practical ways to build meaningful exposure:

Attending portfolio reviews hosted by organizations such as IDSA, universities, and design festivals.
Reaching out to alumni who are working in studios you admire, particularly those a few years ahead in their careers
Engaging in informational conversations with junior and mid-level designers, who are often more accessible and candid about their experiences
Participating in design events, talks, and workshops where informal conversations can lead to longer-term recognition
Maintaining a consistent presence on platforms like LinkedIn or Instagram by sharing process work, sketches, or project thinking rather than only final renders
Contributing to student exhibitions, competitions, or collaborative projects that extend your visibility beyond your immediate academic environment
Signing up for the mailing lists of studios and companies you admire and watching for open houses and studio events

Over time, these actions build familiarity. A studio may not respond immediately to a message or application, but repeated exposure to a designer’s name, work, or ideas can create recognition when opportunities arise later. In many cases, hiring decisions are influenced by this accumulated awareness as much as by formal applications. Networking in design is about showing up consistently within the spaces where design conversations are happening, contributing meaningfully when possible, and allowing your perspective to become part of the broader dialogue.

Build Momentum Over Time

Unlike fields with clearly defined entry points, design careers often unfold unevenly; shaped by timing, exposure, relationships, portfolio development, and a degree of persistence that extends beyond any single application cycle. For emerging designers, this can feel uncertain at first, especially when comparing their progress to seemingly more direct success stories. In reality, momentum matters more than a perfect starting point. Each project, conversation, internship, and piece of outreach contributes to a broader trajectory. Designers who remain engaged—continuing to refine their portfolios, explore new ideas, and participate in the broader design community—tend to create more opportunities for themselves over time.

For new graduates entering the field today, the opportunity lies not in finding the “correct” path, but in actively creating one—through work, relationships, and a continued commitment to evolving as a designer. Studios are looking for evidence of how candidates think, collaborate, communicate, and solve problems. Technical skills remain important, but process, adaptability, trustworthiness, and curiosity often determine which candidates stand out. At Interwoven Design, we find that the most compelling designers are rarely defined by a single aesthetic or specialty. Instead, they distinguish themselves through clarity of thought, engagement with the design process, and the ability to communicate ideas effectively.

A Q&A with India Pearlman, Packaging Designer for Beauty and Wellness

Spotlight articles shine a light on designers and engineers we admire, asking leaders in the field about their work and their creative journey. This month’s Spotlight focuses on the world of wellness and beauty through the lens of India Pearlman, a packaging designer whose work sits at the intersection of industrial design, branding, and product experience.

India Pearlman, packaging designer based in New York and Pratt Institute graduate.

A graduate of Pratt Institute, India brings a distinctly three-dimensional, systems-driven mindset to a field often perceived as purely graphic. Her approach reflects a broader shift in design—where packaging is no longer just a container, but part of a larger ecosystem shaping how products are experienced, displayed, and lived with over time.

We spoke with India about how she found her way into packaging, how industrial design continues to inform her work, and the details she notices that most people miss.

Q:

Can you tell us a bit about your background and what led you into the wellness and beauty space?

A:

I’m a designer based in Queens, currently living in Ridgewood. I graduated from Pratt in 2020 with a degree in industrial design, which was honestly a wild time to enter the workforce. A lot of traditional industrial design roles were hard to find, especially because so much of that work is hands-on.

At the same time, there were a lot of packaging roles opening up. I hadn’t studied packaging in school and wasn’t initially interested in it, but I ended up falling into it because of the timing.

Looking back, it makes sense. My dad works in marketing, and growing up he would show me different pieces of packaging and ask which one I liked more. I think that kind of thinking was always there, even before I realized it.

Eva NYC Freshen Up Invisible Dry Shampoo, a hair care product that combines stock packaging with custom graphics and color application.

Q:

Do you specialize in a particular area of packaging?

A:

I primarily work in beauty and wellness. I got my start in hair care, and the work tends to involve a mix of stock and custom packaging, with a strong focus on graphics, color, and application.

Q:

Do you think industrial design is becoming broader again as categories like beauty and wellness evolve?

A:

I definitely think so. At first, it felt strange to move from identifying as an industrial designer to working as a packaging designer, but over time I’ve seen how closely those disciplines are connected.

There’s a strong overlap between graphic thinking and the physical object—how something exists in space, how it’s held, how it’s experienced. Packaging and industrial design really do belong to the same world.

Q:

How does your industrial design background show up in your work today?

A:

I still rely on it constantly. Having that three-dimensional understanding has allowed me to go further in my role and take on more than just packaging. I often work on retail displays and spatial elements as well, which are very much rooted in industrial design.

Lemme’s Walmart retail display, where packaging extends into spatial and retail design.

My understanding of materials also helps me collaborate more effectively with other teams. I’m able to bring ideas that are creative but also feasible, and sometimes even anticipate challenges before engineering gets involved. That foundation makes a big difference in how projects move forward.

Q:

What usually comes first for you: visual idea, tactile experience, or story?

A:

I typically work under the brand design team, and branding involves a lot more story-based thinking. I like to start with that because it gives me a direction and purpose. Because I work closely with brand teams, there’s often a strong narrative behind the product, and that gives me direction and purpose.

Packaging design involves a lot more brand thinking. Working within brand guidelines might seem limiting, but I actually find it freeing. It allows me to focus more deeply on the design itself, knowing that I’m working toward a clear and intentional goal.

Q:

Beauty trends move fast. How do you think about what lasts versus what’s fleeting?

A:

It can be tricky. Right now, we’re seeing a lot of minimal, sans-serif typography and simple, blocky forms, and that’s been around for a while.

I look at a lot of references. I scroll through Pinterest, study retail environments, and look at other brands, but I also rely heavily on intuition. One of the biggest considerations for me is how a product will live in someone’s home. Is it something they’ll want to keep and display, or something more temporary?

I also look to interior design trends for inspiration. There’s a movement toward more expressive, colorful spaces, what people call ‘dopamine interiors’, and that’s influencing packaging as well, especially for younger brands.

Q:

What’s a packaging detail most people never notice, but you always do?

A:

I immediately notice when things don’t align across a product line. If packaging isn’t proportionate or the typography shifts from one SKU to another, it really stands out to me.

A lot of my work has focused on refining those details. In one role, I did a full packaging revamp that addressed inconsistencies most people wouldn’t consciously see, but that make a big difference in how cohesive the line feels. I’m always thinking about how everything works together as a system.

Q:

NEST x Drawbertson Holiday Collection, an example of packaging that functions as a unified system across an entire product line.

When you’re shopping, are you able to enjoy it? Or are you redesigning everything?

A:

It depends on where I am. In a typical grocery store, I’m definitely redesigning things in my head and questioning a lot of decisions.

But I love going into smaller markets that carry emerging brands. Those spaces tend to have really thoughtful, exciting packaging, and I find them genuinely inspiring. I also take a lot of photos when I’m out, especially in places like Sephora, whenever something catches my attention.

Grocery stores are hard. there’s a lot of packaging that’s been around a long time where I’m like – we could do this better.

Q:

What materials or sustainability approaches are you most interested in right now?

A:

Post-consumer recycled plastic has become much more standard, which is great to see. Beyond that, I’m really interested in paper-based and refillable packaging systems.

Refillable design is especially exciting because it allows you to create a more permanent, beautiful object that people want to keep, paired with a more sustainable refill system.

I’m also paying close attention to finishes. For example, traditional foil treatments make packaging harder to recycle, so I try to push toward alternatives that achieve a similar effect while remaining recyclable. You can also get a lot out of embossing and debossing. There’s a lot of innovation happening there right now.

Q:

If you could collaborate with any brand right now, what would it be?

A:

I would love to work with Prada, especially on fragrance. Their packaging is very architectural, which really resonates with me.

There’s also something interesting about their fashion and accessories, like their bags that translate into form and function. I think there’s a lot of opportunity to bring that same thinking into packaging design. It would be interesting to see how their fashion informs cosmetics, and how something like a handbag, which is itself a functional industrial design object, could inform packaging.

—

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Soft Goods, Seamless Performance: Designing for Movement in Entertainment

The Stakes of Entertainment Design

Designing soft goods for entertainment is a uniquely challenging discipline. Whether for stage, film, live events, or dance, these products must push the limits of movement, durability, and visual storytelling. Costumes, wearables, and accessories must look compelling under lights, but also support choreography, withstand repeated use, and integrate seamlessly. A garment that restricts motion or fails mid-performance doesn’t just interrupt the experience; it can compromise safety, storytelling, and the creative vision itself.

At Interwoven Design, we operate at this intersection of craft, performance, and technical problem-solving. Our team brings together expertise in soft goods, human movement, textiles, and engineering to create products that enhance performers’ abilities while preserving artistic integrity. From early movement studies to stage-tested prototypes, our work is grounded in creating pieces that feel natural to wear, perform reliably under stress, and advance creative expression.

In this article, we’ll explore what makes soft goods design for the entertainment industry distinct, how our approach supports both performers and creators, the opportunities emerging in this category, and case studies showcasing our work designing high-performance costumes.

Why Entertainment Design Is Unique

Designing for entertainment involves a set of conditions unlike any other category of soft goods development. Every decision must account for artistic intent, technical performance, performer safety, and the physical realities of movement.

Artistic Context
Costumes and performance wear must communicate character, story, and emotion at a glance. Designers navigate through color, silhouette, texture, and historical or stylistic accuracy. At the same time they ensure the garment supports the artistic direction of the production. A costume must function as both a tool for expression and a technical piece of equipment.

Physical Context
Performers push their bodies to extremes. Garments must allow full range of motion, distribute pressure evenly, manage heat, and remain comfortable over hours of rehearsal and performance. Fabrics that restrict, chafe, or overheat can hinder movement, increase fatigue, or lead to injury.

Technical Context

Modern entertainment frequently integrates technology; LEDs, sensors, animatronics, quick-change mechanisms, or modular components. These technologies must be embedded into costumes in ways that preserve flexibility, balance, and aesthetics while remaining easy to service backstage.
Together, these contexts shape a design discipline that is part engineering, part artistry, part biomechanics, requiring solutions that are expressive, durable, wearable, and safe.

Designing for Movement and Expression

At Interwoven Design, we view entertainment soft goods as extensions of the performer’s body and tools for storytelling. Our design process centers on an iterative, movement-driven approach that ensures each piece supports expressive freedom, technical performance, and long-term durability.
Prototyping is core to this philosophy. Early iterations are tested in rehearsals or motion studies, allowing designers to observe how garments behave during jumps, lifts, spins, or rapid transitions. We refine patterning, materials, seam placement, and support structures based on how performers actually move.

Comfort, breathability, and ergonomics are fundamental. Materials must balance stretch, drape, durability, and heat management. Every strap, panel, or internal structure is placed intentionally to reduce friction, support high motion, and maintain stability across repeated performances. When costumes incorporate technology, components must integrate seamlessly without compromising aesthetics or mobility.

Collaboration is also essential. We work with choreographers, costume designers, technical directors, and performers to ensure alignment between artistic vision and physical reality. This cross-disciplinary approach results in costumes and wearables that not only look extraordinary but perform flawlessly under demanding conditions.

The Challenge (and Opportunity) of Soft Goods in Entertainment

Soft goods for entertainment represent a rapidly evolving category, from high-tech performance to interactive costumes and modular pieces designed for quick changes or complex choreography. The opportunities are exciting, but the technical demands are significant.

Wearables must withstand extraordinary levels of physical stress. Unlike daily apparel, performance costumes experience constant stretching, repeated laundering, rapid changes, and sometimes rough backstage handling. Seams must hold, materials must last, and designs must maintain their appearance under stage lighting or camera scrutiny.

Technological integration adds further complexity. Whether incorporating electronics, sculptural elements, or mechanical activation, designers must ensure the costume remains balanced, lightweight, and flexible. A component that shifts or detaches mid-performance can jeopardize both safety and continuity.

These challenges, however, create room for innovation. Soft goods designers are uniquely equipped to bridge artistry and engineering. They develop costumes that feel weightless, move effortlessly, integrate technology invisibly, and elevate the creative vision. Our ability to unify soft materials with structural or technological components allows us to deliver reliable and expressive solutions.

Case Studies: Soft Goods for the Stage

Interwoven Design’s work in entertainment showcases how a human-centered soft goods approach can enhance artistry. It enables complex movement, and support demanding performance environments. To illustrate what we mean, here are two case studies illustrating how we’ve applied this expertise to ballet costume innovation.

Case Study 1: Fiber Optic Tutu for the Brooklyn Ballet

Interwoven Design partnered with the Brooklyn Ballet to bring a new dimension of storytelling to their production of The Brooklyn Nutcracker, creating a collection of illuminated costumes that merge classical craft with cutting-edge technology. The centerpiece of this collaboration, the Fiber Optic Tutu for the Waltz of the Flowers, unites traditional ballet couture with programmable light, transforming the stage into a living, glowing garden.

The Design Challenge

Ballet costumes must be expressive, lightweight, and durable, capable of withstanding continuous movement and intense performance demands. For this production, the creative direction introduced an additional layer of complexity. The challenge was to integrate lighting technology into garments that maintain the delicate elegance of a classical tutu.

The challenge was to create costumes that illuminated dynamically without compromising a dancer’s range of motion, stage presence, or safety. The light effects needed to be bright enough to read from the audience. They also needed to be subtle enough to blend with hand-dyed fabrics, layered tulle, and artisanal detailing inspired by botanicals.

Our Approach

Interwoven Design explored the intersection of craft and circuitry, building the tutus using traditional multi-layered foundations reinforced with boning and custom-fit top plates. Then, an intricate network of fiber optic strands were hand-sewn onto the garment, bending and weaving with the dancer’s movement. When paired with high-intensity LED wands concealed at the lower back, the fiber optics created a shimmering glow across the costume.

To maintain the natural, garden-inspired palette of the ballet, the LED control boards were custom-programmed to precise hues of blue and green, ensuring that the illumination supported the choreography’s aesthetic rather than overpowering it. Additional costume elements for Garden Sprites and demi-soloists incorporated UV-reactive inks and screen-printed artwork that appeared only under ultraviolet stage lighting, creating a layered visual reveal. The Dew Drop character’s tutu featured laser-cut mylar florals and Swarovski crystals that refracted both ambient and programmed light, adding to the performance’s visual richness.

Behind the scenes, electronics were housed discreetly within the skirt structure. The housing protected the components while distributing weight in a way that preserved balance for the dancers. The integration of soft goods, illumination technology, and performance ergonomics was refined through iterative prototyping and collaboration with the ballet’s artistic and technical teams.
Impact

The Fiber Optic Tutu elevated The Brooklyn Nutcracker with a sense of wonder that blended seamlessly into the choreography. Onstage, the tutus appeared to bloom as dancers moved, bending light through the fibers to create glimmers, twinkles, and radiant washes that felt almost alive. The effect reinforced the narrative of a secret garden, bringing modern technology into harmony with classical ballet traditions.

For the performers, the costumes remained lightweight, wearable, and unobtrusive, supporting full movement while integrating a sophisticated lighting system. They delivered an unforgettable visual experience that captured the magic of nature, craft, and technology working in concert. This project highlights Interwoven Design’s ability to merge soft goods expertise with electronic integration. Hence, creating expressive, high-performance costumes that expand what is possible in live entertainment.

Case Study 2: Mechanical Doll Costume for The Brooklyn Nutcracker

More recently, for the 2025 season of The Brooklyn Nutcracker, Interwoven Design developed a new mechanical doll costume for the Waltz of the Flowers. This introduced a striking counterpoint to the fluidity and naturalism of the surrounding dancers. While the Flowers bloom and unfurl across the stage, the mechanical doll moves with intentional rigidity and precision. This created an aesthetic contrast reflected in the costume’s blend of structured hardware and soft textile elements.

The Design Challenge

Mechanical doll characters in The Nutcracker traditionally embody stiffness, rhythm, and clockwork-like gestures. For Brooklyn Ballet’s contemporary reinterpretation, the goal was to amplify this contrast. To create a costume that expressed mechanical articulation while still supporting the dancer’s mobility and performance.

The challenge centered on integrating rigid components in a way that conveyed a sculptural, almost automaton-like quality, without hindering choreography. Hardware needed to appear functional—even if only representational—while also being lightweight, safe, and capable of withstanding repeated performances. The soft elements, inspired by the surrounding cast, required balancing so that the mechanical doll felt visually connected while maintaining its personality.

Our Approach

Interwoven Design created the costume as a hybrid system, hard elements with soft materials that allowed for motion. Hard components—such as articulated panels, structured bodice, or mechanical-inspired detailing. We positioned them strategically to enhance the signature movements: sharp turns, precise steps, and sudden pauses.

Soft goods were incorporated to facilitate comfort and fluid transitions between poses, using textiles that complemented the production’s botanical palette without softening the character’s mechanical silhouette. The internal structure was designed to distribute weight evenly, so the dancer could perform full choreography while maintaining the illusion of rigidity.

We designed the hardware, embellishments, or frame-like structures to be secure yet flexible, allowing them to move subtly with the body. Throughout development, prototypes explored different ratios of soft-to-hard materials to achieve the right blend of theatrical expression, safety, and durability.

Impact

The resulting costume offered a visually arresting contrast within the Waltz of the Flowers, transforming the mechanical doll into a focal point of sculptural, rhythmic motion. The interplay of rigid and soft surfaces heightened the character’s stylized choreography, allowing the dancer to embody a precise, clockwork energy while remaining fully supported by the garment’s underlying ergonomic design.

For Brooklyn Ballet, the mechanical doll costume reinforced the production’s signature blend of tradition and innovation. Additionally, it showcased how contemporary design techniques, when thoughtfully integrated, can expand the vocabulary of classical performance.

Designing Confidence Into Performance

Entertainment design is about more than achieving visual impact, it is about building trust between performer, costume, and creative team. A well-designed garment supports movement effortlessly, withstands the rigors of performance, and reinforces the emotional world of the production. Whether crafting dynamic ballet costumes or integrating technology into stage wear, our mission is to blend artistic expression with technical excellence.

Through testing, movement-driven design, and respect for both performers and creative collaborators, we create intuitive, reliable, and empowering products. Our expertise in combining soft and structural elements ensures that each piece fulfills its artistic role and elevates the experience.

We invite choreographers, entertainment designers, and creative teams to partner with Interwoven Design to bring ambitious ideas to life. Designing for performance means designing for confidence, and that principle is central to everything we create.

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.

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