What led you to found Alted Materials?

Realizing the responsibility we have as designers when we put objects into the world. According to circular economy principles, everything we produce can be either poison or food for the planet. The least we can do is try to be neutral.

Throughout my professional career, since graduating from Elisava, I worked in design studios in London and Stockholm, developing products that were produced in the millions. Although I tried to make those objects as non-polluting as possible, ultimately it all depended on whether the industry actually produced and recycled them as intended. As a designer, there are many things beyond your control.

At some point, I felt the need to take control of the entire chain — from the raw material to the final result. That’s why I decided to work directly with materials that were truly recycled and recyclable. That’s how Alted was born.

Alted was born with a clear purpose: circular, recyclable, and non-toxic materials. What technical and creative challenges did you face in turning that vision into a real product?

Working with waste means working with uncertainty. You don’t have total control. The raw material is heterogeneous; it constantly changes. If you approach a recycled material with the perfectionist mindset allowed by virgin plastic, you’ll get frustrated very quickly.

On a technical level, the industry is still not ready for this variability. Everything is designed for standardized processes, where everything fits perfectly. And then there’s another barrier: there are still not enough truly sustainable ingredients — no paints, binders, or components that can also meet legal certifications.

What’s been hardest for me hasn’t been creating, but making it reach the world. Making it industrially viable, compliant with standards, understandable, and desirable. From a creative perspective, it’s actually been the most fun part. The challenge is making it real without betraying the values.

How would you define Alted’s spirit in a few words?

Alted was born with the mission to accelerate the introduction of low-impact materials in the architecture sector. We want to push this transition toward circularity through design — to make more sustainable options available, beautiful, and easy to use.

How has it been to build such an ambitious project with such a small team?

Very tough, but also very rewarding. It’s been incredible to see a network of people and companies grow around the project — people who believed in it from the beginning and made it possible.

But it hasn’t been easy, especially as a young woman. Manufacturing, construction, investment… these fields are still dominated by men. That means double the effort to be heard and trusted. There are more and more women pushing from collaborative and caring perspectives, but we need to find each other, unite, and support one another.

What has been the most difficult part of the journey so far? And the most rewarding?

The hardest part has undoubtedly been bridging the gap between innovation and industrial reality. Many sustainable ideas work on paper or as prototypes, but bringing them to market means facing regulations, costs, resistance, lack of infrastructure… and also the absence of policies that truly reward circular practices or penalize polluting ones. Often, it feels like swimming against the current.

The most rewarding part is exactly the opposite: seeing that it is possible. Seeing our panels installed, used by designers in real spaces, is amazing. Knowing that we’re reducing impact but also sparking conversations, inspiring new ways of doing — when sustainability stops being just a discourse and becomes something visible and tangible, it becomes very powerful.

As an Elisava alumni, what lessons from your time at the school still guide you today?

Above all, a way of thinking: strategic and multidisciplinary. And the importance of making connections — with people, with companies, with ideas. I also learned very early on that curiosity is key. The curiosity to know how things are made, how they’re built, and how they could be done differently. That’s what keeps me researching, exploring materials, processes, collaborations. It’s what keeps me from settling. That restlessness that starts at school is still very much alive in the way I work today.