Beyond the pretty pictures part 2: My material journey and what excites me about the future

In Part 1 of Beyond the pretty pictures, I shared the five pillars that influence every material decision I make. To recap, these are: its intended use and practicality; the unexpected impact on our psychology; its environmental footprint; the material’s innate characteristics; and the reality of the client’s budget.

These factors can rarely all be considered and balanced perfectly, but navigating the tension between them is part of why I find design so rewarding.

But recognising this framework is only the beginning. The real excitement comes in discovering the materials themselves – understanding their stories, their possibilities, and their potential to create spaces that feel genuinely special.

Sustainability is actually about kindness

I’ve felt uneasy about the word ‘sustainability’ for a while now. It’s become such an overused term that it can mean almost anything. For me, the defining principle it suggests is simpler – it’s all about kindness.

Kindness to people – my colleagues, clients, the makers and craftspeople I work with. And kindness to the planet, in how we design, build, and choose materials. At Kinder, that's the thread running through everything we do.

On every project, kindness translates into three practical considerations: how I choose the objects (aiming to give products and materials multiple lives through quality, longevity, and circularity), how I choose processes (doing less, working with what already exists, managing waste thoughtfully), and who I work with (learning from clients and makers, choosing suppliers who respect their labour force and match my values, designing spaces where people will thrive). I find this three-part approach keeps the overwhelm of complex projects at bay, while ensuring I can reflect on the full picture of what ‘kind design’ means in practice.

A basic but fundamental question, what are my favourite materials to design and work with?

Wood is the obvious answer, but it’s obvious for good reason. No room should be without wood in some way. It’s wonderful for warming up spaces and adding that natural, earthy element that makes, without meaning to sound hackneyed, a house feel like a home.

But more special than wood is reclaimed and salvaged materials. There’s something deeply satisfying about giving materials a second or even a third life.

The Waterloo kitchen worktop that started life as teak work benches in a Sheffield school captures why I love this approach. I’m not just choosing a material; I’m continuing a story. And the creativity of finding these pieces and imagining how they might work in a new context is as appealing and rewarding as the finished result.

Vintage furniture falls into this category too. I always source vintage pieces wherever possible, be it dining tables, coffee tables, lounge chairs or shelves. They’re almost always more interesting than contemporary equivalents, and often cheaper too.

Cork is another material I’m increasingly excited about. It’s harvested without felling trees, it’s fully renewable and biodegradable, and it has fantastic acoustic and thermal properties. I think it’s massively underused.

For a critically important but less glamorous choice, I have to mention VOC-free paints (volatile organic compounds), as the toxicity of conventional paints is often overlooked. VOC-free paints protect indoor air quality and don’t cause the harmful emissions that standard paints do. When specifying paint for a child’s bedroom in particular, they should be a no-brainer.

Where to explore and expand next

There are materials I haven’t worked with yet but am genuinely excited to explore. For example, stone bricks (rather than fired bricks) interest me for their significantly lower embodied carbon. Humans have used them in contemporary contexts for thousands of years, which greatly appeals to me.

Another area I’m keen to develop is using clay and lime plaster for wall finishes. ClayWorks is doing beautiful work with natural plasters that breathe, regulate humidity naturally, and create surfaces with incredible depth and texture. The challenge now is finding projects with the budget and timeline available to work with these materials, but when that opportunity comes, I want to be ready.

How to stay current for my clients and my practice

The materials landscape is constantly evolving so my research methods are pragmatic. I use ChatGPT to answer practical questions about performance and cost comparisons, I visit trade fairs to see materials in person and talk to suppliers, and I read as much as I can (for example, the book ‘Material Reform' fundamentally changed how I see buildings).

But I’m also learning constantly from other designers, makers and clients. For me, it simply comes down to remaining curious about what I don’t know.

Inspiring innovation and where to find it

What genuinely excites me is seeing the innovation that’s happening at a grassroots level. Students studying material design today are hardwired to think about sustainability; they’re experimenting with coffee grounds, seaweed, waste materials from the sea, natural dyes. It’s not greenwashing – it’s genuine commitment to finding better ways of making things.

At an architectural scale, there are architects doing incredible work with bio-based building materials – such as cork, rammed earth and sustainable insulation. It’s still niche and expensive, but every project proves it’s possible, pushes the technology forward, and opens the door for further innovation.

Our current construction methods are so carbon-intensive that the potential for positive change is enormous. But the scale of the challenge is equally daunting. I believe progress is achievable if we think incrementally, project by project, material choice by material choice.

What’s next, both for Kinder and the industry

With my practice, I want to keep developing relationships with the makers and craftspeople that I resonate with. Connecting clients with individual makers, such as commissioning an artist to create bespoke ceramic tiles for my Waterloo kitchen project, is the kind of collaboration that excites me, because it’s about creating truly unique pieces.

My dream projects involve more reclamation work. I’d love to design a kitchen using primarily reclaimed and salvaged materials – old wood, vintage fixtures and found objects all integrated into something cohesive and beautiful. The creativity of that challenge, the treasure hunt aspect, the satisfaction of creating something genuinely unique – that’s where I want to push my practice.

For the industry, I’m cautiously optimistic. Client awareness is growing, cost premiums are gradually reducing, and more designers are prioritising sustainability. But I’m realistic about the pace of change – existing economic structures and supply chains create inertia that’s hard to overcome.

The journey continues

Materials remain at the heart of how people experience the spaces we create. What I love about this work and what keeps it interesting is that the puzzle is never quite the same twice. Every client is different, every space has its own constraints and opportunities.

Sustainability – or kindness – is one crucial piece of that puzzle. It’s not the only piece, and sometimes it needs to take a back seat to other priorities. But it’s always in the mix, always informing my decisions.

If you’re thinking about renovating or are designing a space, ask about where the materials come from, how they’ll age and what happens (or could happen) to them at the end of their life. Ask your designer how they think about sustainability, openly discuss the necessary trade-offs, and don’t shy away from imagining the seemingly impossible.

The more we collectively care about these questions, the easier it becomes for designers to prioritise sustainable choices, for suppliers to develop better products, and for the industry to shift toward practices that are kinder to people and planet.

This is the future I’m working towards, one material choice at a time.