Why great circular design still doesn’t make it into projects

What I’m learning about the gap between circular design and real projects.

For quite a while, I thought visibility was one of the biggest problems facing independent circular and upcycling designers.

There were good reasons for that. In interviews I conducted with designers, visibility came up repeatedly. So did exposure, sales, finding the right clients and getting in front of architects and interior designers. One designer described what was missing as a “missing link.” Another simply said “matchmaker.” Someone else wanted better connections with architects and interior architects. And when I asked what would help them get their work into more interiors, the answers kept circling back to the same territory: connections, exposure, visibility and access to the people specifying furniture for projects.

None of that has become less relevant.

But after going back through those interviews, looking again at the conversations I had with interior professionals, and putting them alongside the research I have been digging into over the past months, I think visibility only describes the beginning of the problem.

Because being seen isn’t the same as being specified.

An architect can discover a brilliant chair on Instagram, admire it, save it and even show it to a client. None of that means they can confidently put twenty of those chairs into a hotel, workplace, restaurant or cultural project.

And that difference is becoming increasingly interesting to me.

What happens after “I love this”?

When I interviewed interior professionals, there was no obvious rejection of upcycled or circular furniture. On the contrary, there was genuine interest in distinctive pieces, craftsmanship, provenance and the stories behind materials.

But the questions on the project side quickly became practical.

How well is it finished? How will it perform under intensive use? What maintenance does it require? Is there a warranty? Can I get the quantity I need? What information is available about the materials? When can it be delivered? Who takes responsibility when something goes wrong?

One interviewee described the sustainability information currently available on the market as blurry and stressed the importance of transparency. Another brought up warranties. Delivery and customer service appeared too: knowing not just that an interesting piece exists, but when it will arrive, where it will arrive and whether somebody will be there to solve a problem if one occurs.

These aren't particularly glamorous questions. They are also precisely the kind of questions that turn an interesting object into something that can actually enter a project.

And that changes the visibility conversation.

A designer can become much more visible without becoming any easier to specify.

The other side of the same gap

The designer interviews tell the other half of the story.

The routes to market I heard about were remarkably fragmented: Instagram, webshops, Etsy, galleries, fairs, temporary exhibitions, shops and word of mouth. Some worked better than others. Fairs could cost a lot and deliver little. Galleries could take substantial commissions. Online visibility didn't necessarily translate into sales.

One designer put the problem very simply: actually getting the work sold is difficult for most.

What interested me even more was that these designers weren't necessarily opposed to adapting to the project market. Several were open to customisation, larger quantities or working on demand. One remark has stuck with me:

“Now you don't really know where the demand is.”

That sentence contains a much bigger problem than marketing.

Because if designers are looking for projects, and architects and interior professionals are interested in distinctive circular design, the question becomes why those two things don't meet more often.

I have started to think of the space between them less as a visibility gap and more as friction between good circular design and real-world adoption.

The research is pointing in the same direction

My interviews are small-scale qualitative research, so I don't want to turn a handful of conversations into sweeping conclusions about an entire European sector. What makes them more interesting is that some of the same patterns keep appearing elsewhere.

Research from the Amsterdam University of Applied Sciences into urban upcycling, for example, has looked at viable business models, ecosystem collaboration and the sale of upcycled interior products. One of its useful reminders is that circularity on its own doesn't make a product desirable. Aesthetics remain important, while the origin and story of materials can add meaning once the product itself is compelling. (Read Urban Upcycling research at Amsterdam University of Applied Sciences for more details)

That finding resonates strongly with my own interviews. Circular designers don't get a free pass on design, quality or usability because their materials have a good story. Nor should they.

At European level, I am seeing another part of the same picture. Through the European Circular Economy Stakeholder Platform's work on strengthening market signals for European circular products and services, the conversation increasingly includes the demand side: fragmented demand, buyer awareness, access to reliable information, procurement and the mechanisms that allow circular suppliers and customers to find and work with one another.

Research on circular public procurement has also examined the role of intermediaries in translating knowledge, facilitating cooperation and connecting demand with market responses. (Read Rainville — Stimulating a more Circular Economy through Public Procurement for more details)

And the European Environment Agency's recent work on scaling circular business models makes a similar point from yet another angle: circular businesses do not scale through supply alone. Market conditions, collaboration, financing, behaviour and demand all matter. (Read EEA — Scaling circular business models in Europe for more details)

Different research questions. Different scales. Different actors.

But together with what I heard in my own interviews, they make it increasingly difficult for me to look at visibility as an isolated problem.

From visibility to project readiness

The question I am interested in now is no longer simply how circular designers become more visible.

It is what has to be true after they have been discovered.

What does an architect, interior designer or specifier actually need before they can confidently take an independent circular designer's work into a real project?

My earlier interviews already point towards some very practical answers: dimensions and pricing, lead times and quantities, customisation possibilities, maintenance, warranties, material information, suitability for intensive use and reliable delivery.

There will be others.

And there is another side to that question that matters just as much: which of those things can independent circular designers realistically provide today?

A designer working with reclaimed materials doesn't necessarily have the same production logic as a conventional furniture manufacturer. Material availability can change. Repeating an identical series may be difficult. Scaling production can require partnerships. Testing and certification cost money. A one-person studio cannot suddenly behave like a multinational contract-furniture supplier simply because an architect likes the work.

So project readiness cannot mean forcing small circular designers into a conventional furniture model.

It has to mean understanding what the project side genuinely needs, what the designer can realistically provide, and where something could make working together easier.

That “something” is what I want to understand next.

So I’m turning the research into a test

Rather than adding another report to my increasingly impressive pile of PDFs, I want to put what I have learned in front of the people actually specifying furniture.

I'm turning the findings into a first Circular Design Project Readiness framework: a practical overview of the information and conditions that could help an architect or interior professional move from “I like this” to “I can use this.”

But I don't want to decide from behind my desk what belongs on that list.

I want to test it.

I'll first ask a small group of architects and interior professionals to look at a real circular furniture piece and tell me what they would need before they could confidently specify it. Only afterwards will I show them the framework and ask what is essential, what is merely useful, what is irrelevant and - most importantly - what I have missed.

Then I want to take the same framework back to circular designers and ask a different set of questions: Which of these things can you already provide? Which require additional work? Which become difficult because of the very nature of working with reclaimed materials and small-scale production?

The interesting bit will be the space between those two answers.

Because that is where the friction actually lives.

The next question for May Again

I started May Again with a fascination for what happens when we stop treating furniture as something with one destination and start thinking about longer lives, changing contexts and retained value.

That question is still there.

But the more I work on this, the clearer it becomes that keeping circular furniture in use starts with getting it into use in the first place.

There is already remarkable work being made from reclaimed and existing materials. The challenge is not simply to make more of it visible. It is to create better conditions for that work to move from a designer's studio into actual interiors - without sanding away everything that makes independent circular design interesting in the process.

That is the part I want May Again to investigate in practice now: not declaring itself the missing link because a few pieces of research suggest that a gap exists, but testing what actually reduces the distance between circular designers and the people who could put their work to use.

And measuring whether doing so creates enough value on both sides to matter.

If you are an architect, interior designer or specifier working on hospitality, workplace, retail, cultural or public interiors, I'd love your help with the next step. I'm looking for a small group of professionals willing to spend about 15 minutes challenging the first version of the Project Readiness framework.

Not to tell me whether you like it. I want you to tell me what's missing.

Image credits: Miguel Vanwetter, furniture designer, MVwood atelier, 2 square stool