Strip away the unnecessary - reveal what matters.

Designed.

The home in concept - living room, entryway, lobby, and bedrooms, resolved in render before a single wall was built.

"I Designed That."

"The feeling of being able to point at something and say - 'I Designed That.' It's incredible." The same spaces, realized - render set against real photograph.

Nothing worth wanting existed.

Every sit-stand desk I used - first at my internship, then at my master's thesis office - was the same rectangular slab on an exposed aluminium column. Functional, but forgettable. I went looking for a well-designed alternative and couldn't find one at any price point: good regular tables are everywhere, good sit-stand tables weren't.

I'd wanted a sit-stand desk for a while. Not finding one worth wanting became the reason to design my own - not a brief from anyone, just a personal project. I'm not formally trained as an industrial designer, but it's a field I genuinely love, and this felt like the right place to start.

For someone who notices material.

The goal was never to be the cheapest sit-stand desk. It was to design for someone who notices material and proportion and is tired of the standard office look - stone instead of laminate, leather instead of exposed metal, a sculptural cantilevered base instead of a boxy column, even at higher cost. The leather sleeve wrapping the lift mechanism became the signature detail: it hides the industrial hardware and gives the piece a focal point that's warm rather than clinical.

From one desk to a language.

A single well-designed object makes a point. A family of objects makes a language. Two things pushed this from one desk into a fuller range. I was asked to help design my family's office in India - used mainly by my father and grandfather - while I was based in Sweden. Designing furniture remotely for a space I couldn't walk through wasn't ideal, but it gave me a real reason to think past a single piece.

More honestly: I just enjoy this. I'm happiest improving a space I spend time in - even living in a single room in a shared corridor in Lappis, I've put real effort into making it feel considered. That same instinct pushed the desk's language - leather-wrapped joints, cantilevered metal, stone surfaces - outward into a dining table, a sofa, and a chair.

Designed, or recalled?

The dining chair in this collection isn't my original design, and I'd rather say that plainly than let the collection imply otherwise. I sketched it the way I sketch most things - working from instinct on what shape and proportion felt right. Partway through, I realised I wasn't designing it, I was recalling it. It turned out to closely match the Effezeta cantilever chair, an Italian piece in the Bauhaus / Marcel Breuer cantilever lineage, built in chrome tube and saddle leather.

Rather than force a different chair into the range just to claim full originality, I included this one honestly - a referenced piece that happens to fit the material language exactly: chrome, tan leather, cantilever form.

Sketch, CAD, then render.

This went through three real stages: hand sketches to work out form and proportion, full CAD modelling in SolidWorks to define the actual geometry and how the parts fit together, and finally AI-generated renders (Gemini) built directly from my own CAD files for fast, presentable visualisation.

The screenshots below are the real modelled parts, not renders. The sit-stand desk is shown at two heights - the clearest way to demonstrate that the lift mechanism actually works in the geometry, not just in concept. The Gemini renders are a shortcut to a polished image, not a substitute for the design or modelling work, which is mine.