Interview with Sinem Halli

Sinem Halli ("SH") interviewed on Sunday, 4 May.

Could you please tell us about your experience as a designer, artist, architect or creator?

SH : I’ve been immersed in design for over 17 years—since well before university, when I was sketching furniture for our home and exploring how things could be made better. I studied Industrial Design at university, later completed a master’s in Brand Communication, and today I continue to expand this journey with a PhD focused on sustainability in design. For 8 years, I worked in the corporate world—mainly with Paşabahçe (Şişecam Group)—where I took on roles that bridged marketing, branding, and product design. That experience gave me the chance to understand not only how things are designed, but also how they’re positioned, produced, and communicated. I’ve also contributed to international design programs like Omnia and Glass is Tomorrow, not only as a designer but also helping coordinate and curate cross-cultural collaborations. Today, I work independently as a designer and researcher, collaborating with various clients across sectors—from food and furniture to packaging and decorative objects. I also teach at the university level, which keeps me continuously learning while helping others find their voice in design.

How did you become a designer?

SH : I think I didn’t really become a designer—I was always one. Even as a child, I was constantly drawing, questioning how things could be different, or better. I remember sketching furniture ideas before I even knew the word “industrial design.” I used to wear my glasses upside down just to see the world differently. That curiosity never left me. What shaped me more consciously was my time at Robert College. It gave me a broader way of thinking and the confidence to follow unusual ideas. Studying Industrial Design at university was a natural step after that, and from the very beginning, I was drawn not just to form or aesthetics, but to function, meaning, and how design connects with human behavior. I later pursued a master's degree in Brand Communication to better understand how design fits into systems—how it communicates, how it builds value. Now, as a PhD researcher working on sustainability, I find myself circling back to the same questions I asked at the start: how can we create thoughtfully, responsibly, and beautifully? There was no single person who pushed me into design. It was more of an internal compass—an urge to observe, make, and solve. And design, to me, is the most powerful and subtle way to do that.

What are your priorities, technique and style when designing?

SH : Every project begins with curiosity and observation. I try to understand the people, the context, and the deeper purpose before anything else. From there, I move between intuition and iteration. I don’t follow a rigid method—I adapt my process depending on the nature of the project. Sometimes I start by writing or sketching ideas in a way only I can decode. Sometimes I jump into digital modeling or even ask AI to help me explore visual directions. And when it makes sense, I prototype—physically or virtually—until the idea takes shape. If there’s one thing consistent across my work, it’s the desire to make things that are not just functional or beautiful, but also quietly intelligent—designs that respect people’s habits, attention, and time.

Which emotions do you feel when designing?

SH : Designing often feels like a rollercoaster of emotions for me. At the very beginning, I usually feel a rush of excitement—there’s that spark where I believe I might create something truly meaningful. But as I start digging deeper, doing research, exploring what’s been done, a kind of panic sets in: “Has everything already been done?” That moment is tough—but necessary. Because once I move through it, I usually find a path that feels both personal and original. The most fulfilling part is when things start to flow—when the idea begins to breathe on its own. It's like solving a puzzle that no one else knew existed. I enjoy those moments when intuition and logic start working together. But nothing compares to seeing the final piece come to life. There’s a quiet joy in seeing an idea go from a thought to something tangible—something that exists in the world and interacts with people. That’s when I feel a deep sense of purpose and calm. Design isn’t always easy, but it’s always rewarding. It keeps me grounded, curious, and connected.

What particular aspects of your background shaped you as a designer?

SH : I believe some of the most important skills that shaped me as a designer weren’t directly about design. Being curious, observant, and reflective have probably helped me more than any software ever could. My background includes not only industrial design and brand communication, but also studies in child development, sustainability, and now, AI. These seemingly unrelated fields helped me design with more empathy, cultural depth, and foresight. For example, my experience in brand strategy gave me the ability to see design beyond the object—to understand its role within a larger system. My academic research taught me how to ask the right questions, and my work with cross-disciplinary teams taught me how to listen. I’ve also been a long-time traveler, and the cultural contrasts I’ve experienced have deeply influenced my aesthetic instincts and values. If I had to name one influence, it would be life itself—being a mother, a researcher, a mentor, and an independent thinker. These roles continuously feed into each other, creating a design perspective that’s both analytical and intuitive. In short, design for me is less about “making things” and more about making sense of things—connecting ideas, values, and people in thoughtful ways.

What is your growth path? What are your future plans? What is your dream design project?

SH : Right now, I’m in a phase of rebuilding—both professionally and personally. After years of working within large organizations, I’ve stepped into a more independent, exploratory mode of design. My goal is to build a practice that allows for both creative freedom and meaningful impact. I want to continue designing across disciplines—products, systems, experiences—and I especially want to grow in areas where design intersects with culture, sensory experience, and sustainability. My PhD project explores how we can rethink consumption and value through new lenses, and I hope to turn that into something practical—perhaps even a platform or a business model. In the future, I’d love to have a space of my own—a studio, maybe even a brand lounge—where my collections can live physically and tell their stories. A place that’s not just a showroom, but a hub for collaboration, learning, and experimentation. My dream project? Something that brings together material innovation, cultural narratives, and emotional design. A product or system that quietly transforms habits without shouting for attention. More than anything, I want to be remembered as a designer who listened deeply, created responsibly, and brought beauty and intention into everyday life.

What are your advices to designers who are at the beginning of their career?

SH : My biggest advice to young designers would be: don’t wait for the perfect opportunity—create it. Try everything. Participate in as many design competitions as you can, even outside your comfort zone. Try designing a chair, a piece of jewelry, a food experience, a digital interface—just try. You’ll discover not only your strengths, but your true interests. Also, don’t underestimate internships and hands-on work experiences—even the unpaid ones. They teach you what textbooks never can: how to deal with constraints, collaborate with others, and respond to real-world briefs. Another thing I always say to my students: design is not just about how good you are technically. It’s about how well you can observe, think, adapt and communicate. Read across disciplines. Travel. Talk to people outside your field. The more lenses you gain, the better your design intuition becomes. One of the best pieces of advice I’ve received was: “You don’t need to be the loudest in the room. Just be the one who truly sees.” That still guides me. Success doesn’t come all at once—it builds with every honest effort, failure, and insight. So be patient with your path, but committed to your growth.

You are truly successful as a designer, what do you suggest to fellow designers, artists and architects?

SH : If I could share one key reminder with fellow designers, it would be this: don’t fall in love with aesthetics alone. Especially in early career stages, it’s easy to chase visual beauty without questioning function, efficiency, or necessity—I’ve been there myself. A design isn’t better because it does more—it’s better when it does just enough, beautifully and effectively. Simplicity isn’t minimalism for its own sake—it’s about clarity and purpose. Also, narrowing the scope often helps. Instead of designing for everything, focus on designing something well within clear boundaries. That’s where true creativity thrives: within limits.

What is your day to day look like?

SH : My days start early—mostly because I have a young child. That means my actual “working hours” are often defined by his school schedule. Once I get to my desk, I usually begin with my to-do list and a strong coffee. I check emails, ongoing project updates, and set priorities for the day—whether it’s a collaboration, a research task, or content for my blog. I try to keep some time each week for conceptual exploration—gathering references, observing trends, and visually wandering through new ideas. Pinterest, design blogs, and even exhibition archives often spark unexpected connections. These moments help me zoom out and reconnect with the “why” behind what I’m doing. When the day gets too dense, small things lift me up—a well-resolved detail in a project, discovering a clever form solution, or just spending a few quiet minutes editing visuals while listening to something inspiring. Even with all the shifting roles, I find joy in the balance—designing, thinking, mentoring, and staying curious.

How do you keep up with latest design trends? To what extent do design trends matter?

SH : I don’t design to follow trends, but I don’t ignore them either. Trends are interesting when they reflect real shifts in culture, behavior, or values. I pay attention to those—not the short-lived aesthetic waves, but the deeper movements that tell us something about where people’s attention is going. That said, I try to avoid designing for “this season.” I’m more interested in creating pieces that carry meaning over time—products or collections that can live quietly, yet persistently, in people’s lives. I keep up with trends in my own way: I observe how people behave, what they value, what feels new in how they live or consume. I also browse design platforms, art archives, and exhibitions—not to copy, but to connect dots across disciplines. Inspiration for me rarely comes from what's popular. It comes from what feels layered, relevant, and honest. And I believe good design outlives trends when it’s rooted in thoughtfulness.

How do you know if a product or project is well designed? How do you define good design?

SH : For me, a good design is one that doesn’t scream—it simply makes sense. It serves its purpose with clarity, respects the user, and doesn’t try to be more than it needs to be. It might not grab attention at first glance, but it earns appreciation over time. I often ask: Is it intentional? Is it necessary? Is it quietly smart? If the answer is yes, then I consider it good design. One common mistake I see is over-designing—adding more features, more shapes, more statements—until the essence gets lost. Good design knows when to stop. It’s not about impressing; it’s about resolving. I also value designs that consider sustainability—not just in materials, but in emotional durability. Will people keep this object for years? Will it still feel relevant and useful? Ultimately, a good design feels right without needing to explain itself.

How do you decide if your design is ready?

SH : Deciding when a design is ready isn’t just a technical decision for me—it’s often relational. When I work with clients or collaborators, I pay close attention to their reactions—not just what they say, but what they don’t say. A pause, a slight change in tone, or a choice of words often tells me more than a formal brief ever could. Many times, the real feedback isn’t verbal. It’s about reading between the lines and translating their unspoken needs into design. When I feel I’ve captured that—when the design reflects both their intentions and my own standards for clarity and function—I know it’s time to let go. I tend to work quickly, so deadlines don’t usually force my hand. But I always respect the timeline. My internal signal is when I feel I could defend every choice I made, while also seeing that the client feels safe, understood, and excited. That’s when I say: it’s ready.

What is your biggest design work?

SH : If I’m being honest, my biggest design work right now is my own life. After years of working in the corporate world, becoming a mother, going through a global pandemic, and shifting into academia and independent practice—I'm redesigning everything from the ground up. It's about building a new rhythm, a new voice, and a new kind of creative identity. And just like any meaningful design, it’s iterative, imperfect, and deeply personal. That said, in terms of products, two projects hold special meaning. One is a cufflink I designed early in my career using meerschaum and silver—a tribute to traditional Turkish craft with a contemporary soul. It helped shape my sense of design authorship. The other is Parawood Verso—a modular wall piece developed with zero-waste logic, now internationally awarded by the A’ Design Award. It represents everything I’ve been working toward: sustainable thinking, visual subtlety, and poetic function. But yes—my real masterpiece is still in progress: a life designed with intention.

Who is your favourite designer?

SH : I’m not someone who follows names religiously—whether it’s designers, academics, or even music artists. What inspires me isn’t who made something, but why and how they made it. I’m drawn to works that are thoughtful, context-sensitive, and quietly clever—regardless of fame. Sometimes I’m moved by a centuries-old craft technique; sometimes by a small object in a local market; sometimes by a silent gesture in a public space. Those are the moments that stay with me. So rather than having a list of favorite designers, I keep a collection of favorite thoughts, forms, and feelings—and I let those shape my work.

Would you tell us a bit about your lifestyle and culture?

SH : I live in Istanbul—a city that’s never just one thing. It’s chaotic, poetic, layered, and full of contradictions. But I also travel frequently within Turkey, and each region carries its own textures, materials, and stories. This cultural richness quietly shapes my design perspective. Music isn’t always part of my process, but rhythm definitely is—whether in form, space, or visual composition. I often look for that balance between tension and calm. Design, to me, is deeply cultural. It's not just about solving problems; it's about recognizing values, rituals, and identities. In my own life, design has helped me simplify, observe more deeply, and think long-term. Even small choices—like designing a self-watering planter or creating a slower morning routine—become design interventions when done with intention. I believe good design helps society not by being flashy, but by being thoughtful. When we design with empathy, context, and care, we shift behaviors, create belonging, and—sometimes—bring a little more beauty into the everyday.

Would you tell us more about your work culture and business philosophy?

SH : I work independently, but I rarely work alone. My design process is often enriched by conversations—with engineers, psychologists, craftspeople, or just thoughtful observers. I believe in interdisciplinary exchange, and I value curiosity, clarity, and mutual respect in any collaboration. Is it easy to work with me? If you're open, honest, and willing to think deeply—yes. I’m adaptable and communicative, but I also have a strong sense of direction. I like to understand not just what a partner wants, but why they want it. Having worked both in corporate settings and as a freelancer, I’ve learned to listen to brand values, understand user needs, and translate abstract ideas into tangible, elegant outcomes. My business philosophy is rooted in three things: integrity, intention, and insight. I don’t design just to decorate—I design to reveal, connect, and resolve. A good designer, in my view, should be observant, empathetic, and relentlessly curious. Trends will fade, tools will change, but those traits will always matter.

What are your philanthropic contributions to society as a designer, artist and architect?

SH : As a designer, I strongly believe in giving back—not just through objects, but through opportunities, ideas, and cultural continuity. I regularly mentor students and emerging designers, both through academic roles and personal support. I encourage them to explore competitions, interdisciplinary thinking, and reflective practice—things that shaped me early on. Beyond that, a large part of my design and academic focus is centered on social and cultural sustainability. I explore how traditional crafts, local materials, and historical narratives can be reinterpreted with a contemporary mindset. To me, preserving culture doesn’t mean freezing it in time—it means helping it evolve meaningfully. I also contribute to collaborative or educational projects where design plays a role in connecting people, preserving identity, or addressing environmental needs. If the intention is clear and the cause is meaningful, I absolutely consider pro bono work. I see design not only as a tool for innovation, but as a bridge between past and future, people and ideas. Because at the end of the day, good design is not just about what we create—it’s about who we uplift, what we preserve, and how we shape what comes next.

What positive experiences you had when you attend the A’ Design Award?

SH : Participating in the A’ Design Award has been a meaningful turning point for me. After a long pause from design competitions, this was my return—and winning reminded me not just of what I can do, but why I do it. One of the most positive experiences was feeling seen—not just for aesthetics, but for the mindset behind the work: sustainability, material logic, and poetic simplicity. The visibility that came with it, both locally and internationally, opened new conversations, new collaborations, and renewed confidence. Three key benefits of joining a design competition like this are: Clarity – It pushes you to articulate your design with precision and purpose. Visibility – You reach new audiences beyond your existing circles. Validation – It reinforces your belief in your approach—especially when your design is recognized by a global, professional jury. Being named “Designer of the Day” was both exciting and humbling. It’s a moment of spotlight, yes—but more importantly, it’s a reminder that consistent, thoughtful work resonates when it comes from a place of integrity. I believe design competitions matter because they challenge us, connect us, and remind us that design is not just about function—it’s about meaning.

Sinem Halli Profile