We, as the Designer Interviews ("DI") had the distinct pleasure and opportunity to interview award-winning, most creative and innovative Sinem Halli ("SH").
Sinem Hallı is an Istanbul-based designer, researcher, and educator whose work bridges industrial design, sustainability, and brand communication. With a background rooted in design education at Istanbul Technical University and Politecnico di Milano, she has received multiple national and international awards in fields ranging from furniture to packaging. Her research explores sustainability beyond environmental concerns, engaging with cultural, social, and material dimensions—particularly through projects involving glass, food, and brand design. Hallı is also a lecturer and PhD candidate at ITU, and her interdisciplinary approach continues to connect academic inquiry with creative practice, fostering meaningful design narratives across diverse mediums.
Sinem Halli Designs
We are pleased to share with you original and innovative design work by Sinem Halli.
Sinem Halli Design - Parawood Verso Wooden Wall Art
Designer Interview of Sinem Halli:
DI: Could you please tell us more about your art and design background? What made you become an artist/designer? Have you always wanted to be a designer?
SH : I've always been drawn to seeing things from unexpected angles—even as a child. Small moments, like playfully wearing glasses upside down, were more than jokes—they reflected an early instinct to challenge perspectives. That curiosity stayed with me and evolved into a deep passion for design. Studying at Robert College was a turning point. It gave me the intellectual freedom to question, explore, and eventually realize that design wasn’t just about creating things—it was about understanding people. My travels abroad, especially my time at Politecnico di Milano, enriched this perspective further. Italy offered a rich cultural context and strong aesthetic traditions, and while there, I became more aware of how design and marketing interplay. It pushed me to think critically—not just about how something looks, but why it’s meaningful and for whom. For me, becoming a designer meant developing the ability to observe people quietly, to notice what even they might not articulate—and then turning those silent needs into thoughtful, intentional solutions. And always, with an eye toward sustainability: using resources wisely, reducing impact, and designing in a way that balances beauty, function, and responsibility.
DI: Can you tell us more about your company / design studio?
SH : My design practice moves between research, education, and collaboration. Rather than a traditional design studio, I operate as an independent designer and researcher with a strong focus on sustainability, material culture, and meaningful product experiences. Through my website—sinemhalli.com—I share insights from my academic work, collaborative projects, and personal reflections on design and culture. I use it as a blog as well, to articulate thoughts and questions that shape my process. It gives visitors a broader view of who I am—not just through finished work, but through the thinking behind it. I often work at the intersection of industrial design, communication strategies, and user behavior—especially in contexts where sustainability and cultural heritage meet. This means working not only on objects, but also on systems, narratives, and long-term value. I also teach and mentor emerging designers, which I see as an extension of my own learning process. At its core, my practice is about design that listens before it speaks—design that respects the environment, understands people, and aims to be quietly transformative rather than loud and fleeting.
DI: What is "design" for you?
SH : For me, design is a way of listening—carefully, quietly, and curiously. It’s about observing people and their habits, and noticing the things that go unnoticed—the unspoken needs, the daily frictions, the emotional gaps. Design, in that sense, is not just about problem-solving, but about meaning-making. It’s also about responsibility. We live in a world of limited resources, so every design decision is also an ethical one. I believe good design balances emotional satisfaction, functional clarity, and environmental awareness. It doesn’t shout; it makes space. It doesn’t overwhelm; it fits. In short, design is not just what we make—it’s how and why we choose to make it.
DI: What kinds of works do you like designing most?
SH : I’m most drawn to designing things that carry meaning—not just function. Whether it’s a product, a system, or even a communication tool, I’m interested in how design can shift behavior gently, question consumption patterns, or tell a story that resonates. I enjoy projects where design becomes a bridge—between people, between disciplines, between moments. I especially enjoy working in areas where sustainability intersects with everyday life—like food experiences, decorative objects, or sensory elements in interior spaces. These are often overlooked, but they have powerful potential to influence habits and values. I also love projects that involve cultural narratives or local crafts, where design becomes a bridge between past knowledge and contemporary needs. In short, I enjoy designing things that live quietly in people’s lives but leave lasting impressions.
DI: What is your most favorite design, could you please tell more about it?
SH : That’s a hard question—because I have two favorites, for very different reasons. The first is a pair of cufflinks I designed out of meerschaum for a design competition early in my career. It was a very personal project—just me, the brief, and full creative freedom. I incorporated elements of Turkish traditional crafts like a special silverwork and meerschaum carving and played with structure by hollowing out the center of the stone. The pattern was inspired by historical motifs of Phrygia, and the entire process gave me a deep motivation to pursue design professionally. It wasn’t just about the object—it was about trusting my own voice as a designer. The second would be a self-watering flowerpot I designed during my time at Nude Glass. It’s both functional and aesthetic, and I still use it at home—my plants are thriving! It rethinks a common object through simple innovation and material awareness, and it also received two international awards, which helped me gain visibility internationally. That project represents not just personal satisfaction, but also real-world impact—and that’s a balance I always aim for in design.
DI: What was the first thing you designed for a company?
SH : The first thing I ever designed for a company was during my undergraduate years—a set of accessories for kitchen appliances like refrigerators, ovens, and stovetops for the BSH Group. It was a group project, but it was also the first time I experienced what it meant to design for real production. Some of the concepts we worked on were even patented, which was a big moment for me as a design student. It gave me a first glimpse into the seriousness of design beyond the classroom—how an idea could become something officially registered and potentially mass-produced. Later on, the first projects I actually earned money from were exhibition stand designs. Those experiences taught me a lot about fast-paced decision-making, spatial storytelling, and balancing aesthetic ambition with logistical reality. In a way, both projects—one in corporate product development and one in commercial space design—helped shape the flexibility I still carry in my practice today.
DI: What is your favorite material / platform / technology?
SH : Rather than a single material or technology, what excites me most is designing things that become part of daily life—things I can hold, use, gift, or share. I’m drawn to tangibility. I love working on designs that don’t just live on a screen or in a portfolio but actually find a place in the world—on a table, in someone’s hand, or as part of a small ritual. That’s why I enjoy materials and platforms that support this kind of real-world presence. Whether it's packaging, food, or small-scale products, I love that moment when a design becomes something you can interact with, own, or even give to someone else. In that sense, my "favorite" material or platform is always the one that allows design to be lived with—not just looked at.
DI: When do you feel the most creative?
SH : Honestly? Probably when I’m doing something completely unrelated to work—like showering, walking, or just letting my mind wander. Some of my best ideas have come to me in those in-between moments—when the pressure’s off and my brain is free to roam. I think creativity often shows up when we stop chasing it. That said, I also believe in preparing the ground for it—by staying curious, observing carefully, and feeding my mind with ideas. But the spark? It usually comes when I least expect it. And yes, sometimes even in the bathroom.
DI: Which aspects of a design do you focus more during designing?
SH : I focus most on meaning, context, and how the design will live in someone’s life. Rather than isolating form or function, I try to understand the layers behind why something should exist at all. Who will use it? In what setting? How will it feel, sound, or even smell? I think about the story it tells, the behavior it invites, and the values it reflects. That said, I also care deeply about the sensory experience—how materials, proportions, and details come together to create something both intuitive and emotionally engaging. For me, a successful design is not just something that works—it’s something that makes sense and leaves a trace.
DI: What kind of emotions do you feel when you design?
SH : At the beginning, I often feel a wave of excitement—like, “This is a great opportunity, I can create something truly original.” There’s this spark, a sense of possibility. But then I dive into research, and suddenly I’m overwhelmed: “Oh, that’s been done. So has that. What’s left for me to say?” It can be disorienting, even a little panicky. But I’ve learned to sit with that discomfort. After the storm settles, the path starts to reveal itself. Things begin to flow. It’s like water finding its way—quietly, naturally. That’s when I feel most grounded in the process. So yes, my emotions while designing move from excitement to doubt, and eventually to clarity. And I’ve come to appreciate that entire emotional arc. It means I’m fully present.
DI: What kind of emotions do you feel when your designs are realized?
SH : The moment a design comes to life, I feel an overwhelming sense of joy—like watching something I love deeply take its first step into the world. Each design feels like a part of me, almost like a child. And when it finally becomes real—when I can see it, touch it, or even buy it—I get genuinely emotional. My heart races, I get excited, and I want to be there for it, to witness every little moment of its “life.” Sometimes I even rush to the store just to buy it myself, to hold it in my hands and feel that it really exists. It’s a beautiful mix of pride, attachment, and pure happiness. No matter how many times it happens, that feeling never fades.
DI: What makes a design successful?
SH : For me, a design is successful when it creates a connection—when it means something to someone. It’s not just about looking good or functioning well (though those matter too). A truly successful design gently shifts behavior, tells a story, or becomes part of someone’s everyday ritual. I also think a successful design is one that ages well. It doesn’t just respond to a trend or moment—it carries values, respects its context, and stays relevant over time. Sometimes the success is quiet: a person uses it daily without even noticing how much it shapes their habits. That, to me, is the most beautiful kind of success.
DI: When judging a design as good or bad, which aspects do you consider first?
SH : At first glance, I look for clarity—does the design communicate well? Is it honest, intentional, and appropriate for its context? But beyond that, I try to understand the bigger picture. Who is it for? Does it solve a real problem or meet an unspoken need? Does it respect the environment and the user’s time, attention, and emotion? A good design, to me, is not just about beauty or innovation. It’s about coherence—when form, function, and meaning align. And a bad design? It often tries too hard to impress, but fails to connect.
DI: From your point of view, what are the responsibilities of a designer for society and environment?
SH : I believe designers have a deep responsibility—not only to shape products, but also to shape values. We don’t just create objects; we create choices, habits, expectations. That’s powerful. And with that power comes the responsibility to think critically about what we put into the world. Environmentally, this means being aware of materials, production, and waste—but also questioning if something really needs to exist in the first place. Socially, it means being inclusive, respectful of cultural contexts, and mindful of the long-term impact of our ideas. For me, design is not neutral. It either contributes to a more thoughtful, responsible world—or it adds to the noise. I try to choose the first.
DI: How do you think the "design field" is evolving? What is the future of design?
SH : Design is moving beyond objects—and toward systems, behaviors, and values. I believe the future of design lies in integration: between disciplines, between technology and tradition, between global problems and local insights. We’re no longer designing just things—we’re designing relationships between people, products, and the planet. The rise of AI, climate urgency, and social transformation are all pushing us to rethink the role of the designer—not just as a maker, but as a connector, translator, and ethical thinker. I see design becoming more invisible yet more influential—embedded in daily rituals, shaping choices silently, and hopefully guiding us toward a more thoughtful way of living.
DI: When was your last exhibition and where was it? And when do you want to hold your next exhibition?
SH : I haven’t had a solo exhibition yet, but I’ve been part of collective and institutional showcases. The most notable one was around 2016, during my time working on the Omnia project from Pasabahce Stores. I was involved not only as a designer, but also as the organizer—overseeing production, coordination, and the overall presentation of the exhibition. It was a comprehensive experience that taught me a lot about the relationship between design, narrative, and spatial communication. As for the future—I would love to hold a solo exhibition when the concept feels right. I’d want it to reflect not just individual pieces, but the way I think about design as a bridge between people, materials, and meaning. Hopefully soon!
DI: Where does the design inspiration for your works come from? How do you feed your creativity? What are your sources of inspirations?
SH : My inspiration often comes from everyday moments, cultural rituals, and overlooked details—but I also feed it intentionally through multidisciplinary learning. I travel often, not just to see new places but to observe how people live, make, and relate to their environments. I read across fields—from child development to branding and, most recently, artificial intelligence. I’m currently studying child development as a second degree, and I’ve already done a master’s in brand communication. In the future, I’d love to explore cultural heritage more deeply through both research and practice. I try not to stay in the “design bubble.” Instead, I bring elements from different disciplines and cultures into my process. Sometimes, that makes it hard for others to categorize my work—but I’m okay with that. I’d rather be expansive than easily labeled. Inspiration, for me, isn’t a spark—it’s an ongoing, open conversation with the world.
DI: How would you describe your design style? What made you explore more this style and what are the main characteristics of your style? What's your approach to design?
SH : I wouldn’t describe my style in visual terms—because I don’t aim for a signature look. What I care about is the mindset behind the work. My approach is context-driven, sensory, and human-centered. I try to create designs that are thoughtful rather than loud—things that may seem quiet at first glance but leave a deep impression over time. I’m especially drawn to multidisciplinary thinking—where design meets behavior, culture, memory, and even technology. That’s why I work across different fields like food, decorative objects, and communication. I like to connect ideas that aren’t usually combined, and I want the end result to feel personal, grounded, and subtly poetic. If there’s one thing that defines my work, it’s the desire to create meaning—not just objects.
DI: Where do you live? Do you feel the cultural heritage of your country affects your designs? What are the pros and cons during designing as a result of living in your country?
SH : I live in Istanbul—a city where history, chaos, tradition, and innovation all exist at once. Its layers have shaped how I observe the world: always looking for hidden meanings, contrasts, and unexpected harmonies. But my inspiration isn’t limited to just one city. I travel frequently within Türkiye, and each region offers its own materials, techniques, stories, and ways of seeing. From the colors of the Southeast to the crafts of Central Anatolia, the country is a mosaic of micro-cultures—and as a designer, it’s like living inside a never-ending archive of inspiration. This richness is a gift, but also a challenge. Sometimes the hardest part is choosing where to focus—because everything around you is so full of meaning. Another challenge is navigating the local design ecosystem, which can sometimes be unpredictable or limited in resources, especially for independent creatives. Still, the diversity, depth, and resilience of this place have taught me to stay curious, adaptable, and deeply rooted in context. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
DI: How do you work with companies?
SH : I approach collaborations with companies through both experience and empathy. Having worked for years as an in-house designer in the private sector, I’ve seen how design operates inside organizations—with all its layers, limitations, and opportunities. That experience taught me not just how to design, but how to listen: to brand values, internal cultures, and communication challenges. My master’s degree in brand communication was a deliberate choice. I wanted to better understand how different companies express themselves, what they value, and how design can align with that. That training allows me to adapt my design thinking to different brand voices—not just aesthetically, but strategically. When I work with companies today, I don’t jump straight into solutions. I begin by asking questions: Who are you really trying to reach? What do you want to change? What do you value most as a brand? I try to uncover both the spoken and unspoken layers of the brief, and build a design strategy that reflects not only the company's vision, but also its culture and long-term goals. Now working independently, I offer project-based collaborations and creative consultancy. I’m especially drawn to projects that allow room for dialogue, experimentation, and shared meaning-making. I’m currently based in Istanbul, but open to international collaborations as well. You can always reach out via my website, www.sinemhalli.com, to start a conversation.
DI: What are your suggestions to companies for working with a designer? How can companies select a good designer?
SH : The best collaborations happen when companies see designers not just as executors, but as thinking partners. My first suggestion is: involve the designer early. A good designer can help shape the problem—not just solve it. When we’re part of the conversation from the beginning, we can bring much more value than just “making it look good.” Secondly, don’t just choose a designer based on their portfolio. Look at how they think. Ask how they approach challenges, how they listen, how they adapt to different brand voices. A good designer isn’t someone who only has a style—but someone who can read context and respond with clarity. And finally, trust is key. Give the designer room to explore and push boundaries. Design is not just a service—it’s a relationship. When both sides are open and curious, that’s when real innovation happens.
DI: Can you talk a little about your design process?
SH : My design process starts long before I sketch anything. I begin by observing—people, habits, environments, and sometimes even silences. I ask questions like: What’s missing here? What’s being taken for granted? I try to uncover emotional and behavioral patterns that might not be immediately visible. Once I understand the context, I begin exploring connections—between materials, meanings, functions, and feelings. I read, map, test, sometimes walk away and come back with new eyes. I also enjoy bringing in perspectives from outside design: psychology, branding, cultural history, even AI. Then comes the more tangible phase: prototyping, refining, and simplifying. But even in the final outcome, I want the design to carry traces of the questions it started with. For me, the process is not linear. It’s a loop—of listening, translating, and distilling meaning.
DI: What are 5 of your favorite design items at home?
SH : I don’t own any iconic designer pieces—good design isn’t always accessible where I live. But I do surround myself with objects that are meaningful, functional, and quietly smart. Here are five of my favorite design items at home: My self-watering "Roots" flower pots—these are actually my own designs, and they’ve become essentials. I never have to worry if I’ve forgotten to water my plants, and they’ve genuinely changed how I care for greenery at home. My coffee machine—not a capsule one, but a bean-to-cup machine. It brings a sense of ritual to my mornings, and I love the balance between convenience and manual involvement. A rug I designed for a competition—inspired by mosaic forms, it brings together tradition and playful geometry. It’s one of my favorite pieces not just because I made it, but because it reflects a sense of cultural fusion. My L sofa—incredibly comfortable, versatile, and beautifully simple. I can work, rest, or nap in them—which is all I ask from furniture. My robot vacuum—not glamorous, but incredibly helpful. It gives me time and space to focus on other things. And honestly, isn’t that what great design is supposed to do? These aren’t flashy objects, but they make daily life more thoughtful, enjoyable, and intentional. That’s the kind of design I believe in.
DI: Can you describe a day in your life?
SH : There’s no such thing as a “typical” day in my life—and I’ve made peace with that. Some days are filled with teaching, research, writing, and mentoring. Others are quiet, reflective, and open to creative thinking. And some days are simply chaotic, where nothing goes as planned. I’m also a mother to a young child, which means time is never truly mine. I work in the hours when he’s at school—or after he goes to bed. That has taught me to be very intentional with my time. Every hour counts. Even with these limits, I’m doing my PhD, teaching, taking on individual design projects, and collaborating with companies. Whenever possible, I add travel between cities, attend cultural events, exhibitions, or fairs—anything that feeds my creative and intellectual energy. It’s a lot to juggle, and yes, it can be exhausting at times. But I’ve learned how to create a rhythm that works for me, and I’m proud of how I carry it all. My days aren’t always perfect, but they’re full of purpose and curiosity. And that’s enough for now.
DI: Could you please share some pearls of wisdom for young designers? What are your suggestions to young, up and coming designers?
SH : My most heartfelt advice to young designers is: apply to as many design competitions as you can. Not necessarily to win, but to explore. Try designing for furniture, jewelry, footwear, AI-integrated systems—anything outside your comfort zone. This will help you expand your portfolio, develop diverse ways of thinking, and most importantly, discover which areas truly excite you. With exploration comes clarity—and often, unexpected successes. The more you try, the more likely you are to find your voice. I always tell my students this, too: seek out as many work and internship experiences as possible. Don’t hesitate to work on real design tasks, even if they’re unpaid in the beginning. You might dream of working at a certain company or sector, only to discover that it doesn’t fit you—or the opposite might happen. Also, if possible, pursue international experiences, even during your studies. Travel widely. Engage with different fields. Learn from outside design. All of these will shape you—not just as a designer, but as a thinker.
DI: From your perspective, what would you say are some positives and negatives of being a designer?
SH : One of the more challenging aspects of being a designer—especially in contexts where design culture is still developing—is the lack of awareness about what design actually involves. People often think design is just the final touch, or something they can handle themselves. That can make it harder to communicate the real value of the design process: research, iteration, thinking, and strategy. As designers, we frequently find ourselves not only creating, but also explaining why design matters. Another challenge is internal: there’s always the feeling that something could be better. Design invites constant reflection and refinement. But we also work under time constraints, which means we have to learn when to stop—when to say, “this is the best possible outcome within these conditions.” That balance takes time and experience. On the positive side, the emotional reward is powerful. Seeing your ideas become tangible objects, and knowing you helped bring something meaningful into the world—it’s hard to describe. In design, you can be recognized for the things you create in a very direct and human way. That’s a privilege, and something I’m deeply grateful for.
DI: What is your "golden rule" in design?
SH : Design should quietly make sense—emotionally, functionally, and contextually. If it doesn’t speak to a real need, if it doesn’t live well in its environment, or if it only exists to impress—it loses its purpose. My golden rule is: Don’t design to decorate. Design to connect.
DI: What skills are most important for a designer?
SH : In my view, the most important skills for a designer today are not technical—but perceptual. It’s not about how well you can draw anymore. We live in the age of AI and advanced digital tools—execution is easier than ever. What matters now is what you notice. How you observe. What kind of questions you ask. I believe a good designer is a quiet observer—someone who sees the tiny details others miss, and then builds a whole world from them. It’s about sensing nuance, making unexpected connections, and understanding human behavior on a subtle level. AI can analyze patterns at scale. But a designer can take one unnoticed moment—one ordinary gesture—and transform it into something meaningful. That, to me, is irreplaceable.
DI: Which tools do you use during design? What is inside your toolbox? Such as software, application, hardware, books, sources of inspiration etc.?
SH : My design toolbox includes both digital tools and analog habits—and a strong dose of curiosity. Technically, I work with software like SolidWorks, Illustrator, Photoshop, and KeyShot, depending on the nature of the project. I also benefit quite a bit from AI tools—especially during early concept development or when I want to visualize ideas quickly. They don’t replace my thinking, but they accelerate and expand it. Beyond tools, I rely heavily on visual research. I often say one of the best parts of being a designer is that flipping through design or decor magazines counts as work. I love scanning Pinterest or a magazine page with no specific goal in mind—sometimes that’s where the most unexpected ideas come from. I read a lot—mostly related to UX, branding, sustainability, psychology, and child development, since those areas connect with my research and ongoing projects. I also take great inspiration from travel: not just the places themselves, but the reading and cultural context I explore beforehand. Sometimes, the most powerful tool is just stillness—watching people, absorbing a space, or letting your mind wander without pressure.
DI: Designing can sometimes be a really time consuming task, how do you manage your time?
SH : Time is the most limited and most valuable resource in my life—so I’ve learned to design my time as carefully as I design objects. As a mother of a young child, my work hours are short and highly focused. I usually work when he’s at school or after bedtime, which means I need to be very intentional about what gets my time and energy. Over the years, I’ve learned how to prioritize, how to let go of perfection when necessary, and how to say “no” to things that don’t align with my values or direction. I block out time for deep work, I take notes constantly, and I try to group similar tasks so my mind can stay in flow longer. That said, some of the best ideas still come when I’m not working—when I’m walking, cooking, or doing something completely unrelated. So I try to leave room for mental wandering too. In short, I don’t just manage time—I try to curate it.
DI: How long does it take to design an object from beginning to end?
SH : It really depends on the nature and scope of the project—but for me, the thinking often takes longer than the making. If it's a conceptual design, I might spend days or weeks just researching, observing, and outlining the context before even sketching anything. Sometimes the core idea comes in a flash, but developing it into something meaningful and feasible takes time. Physical objects with prototyping and production stages can take anywhere from a few weeks to several months—especially if materials, suppliers, or manufacturing processes are involved. On the other hand, smaller-scale or visual communication tasks might be much faster. I’ve learned that time isn’t just about how long something takes to create—it’s also about how long it needs to become right. And sometimes, you just have to pause, step away, and come back with fresh eyes.
DI: What is the most frequently asked question to you, as a designer?
SH : Honestly? The question I get asked most often is: “When will it be ready?” And I completely understand—it’s natural. But it’s also a funny reminder that while design looks creative from the outside, it’s deeply tied to time management, deadlines, and production timelines. Another question I often hear is: “Is this something you can design?” or “Does this fall into your area of work?” It reflects how broad and sometimes misunderstood the design field can be—people are still trying to figure out what exactly a designer does. I don’t mind explaining—it opens the door for more meaningful collaborations. But yes, “when will you deliver?” is the one I hear the most. :)
DI: What was your most important job experience?
SH : One of the most important periods in my career was during my time working with Sisecam and projects like Glass Is Tomorrow and Omnia. These experiences gave me the chance to work closely with international designers, lead production and design management processes, and represent the company on global platforms. I had the opportunity to attend international award ceremonies, win several design competitions, and see my work spread across the world. It gave me confidence, visibility, and a deep understanding of both the creative and strategic sides of design. But equally important is the chapter I’m currently in—where I’m building something from scratch. After years in the corporate world, I’ve shifted toward independent work, research, and self-discovery. For the first time, I’m responsible for my own marketing, my own network, my own direction. I recently entered a competition again—after years—and handled everything on my own, from concept to funding. Doing this while also raising a young child and working on my PhD is not easy. But this moment is teaching me something the corporate world never could: how to find my own voice, on my own terms.
DI: Who are some of your clients?
SH : I’ve worked with a variety of clients across different fields—from food and decorative products to packaging, eyewear, and brand identity. My role often goes beyond just product design; I’ve also contributed to the development of brand strategies, visual identities, and social media presence for some of the brands I’ve collaborated with. In earlier years, I was part of international design initiatives under Sisecam, where I contributed both as a designer and in the coordination of collaborative projects with international creatives. While those collaborations weren’t “client” relationships in the traditional sense, they gave me insight into global production, storytelling, and cross-cultural design. I now work independently and selectively—mostly on project-based collaborations where I can bring value through interdisciplinary thinking and a context-driven approach. You can find a selection of my work at www.sinemhalli.com, under the "Designed For" section.
DI: What type of design work do you enjoy the most and why?
SH : I enjoy working on design projects that live in people’s everyday lives—but in subtle, meaningful ways. That might be a food-related object, a decorative item, or something functional like packaging. What matters to me is not just what it looks like, but how it makes someone feel, how it fits into their routines, and whether it quietly reshapes their behavior or awareness. I’m also deeply drawn to projects where I can combine different disciplines—where a single object carries cultural meaning, sensory experience, and smart functionality at once. For example, a self-watering flower pot isn’t just a product; it’s a way to care, to remember, to coexist with nature—effortlessly. I think I enjoy this kind of work because it allows me to connect big ideas to small moments—and because it lets design be both thoughtful and accessible.
DI: What are your future plans? What is next for you?
SH : In the coming years, I want to shape a design practice that’s truly aligned with how I think, live, and create. While I enjoy teaching and engaging with academic research, I feel most energized when I’m working with my hands, developing real objects, and collaborating across disciplines. My long-term vision is to establish a platform—perhaps a brand lounge or a curated collection space—where my work can live not just as ideas, but as experiences. I’m also exploring more critical approaches to design through my PhD project, which focuses on rethinking the value of already-produced goods from a sustainability perspective. Rather than contributing to endless cycles of production and consumption, I’m interested in how design can help us re-evaluate, reframe, and reconnect with what already exists. I’d like to continue collaborating with thoughtful brands, co-creating meaningful products, and expanding my independent design voice. I also want to keep sharing what I learn—through teaching, writing, or mentorship—but always staying close to tangible, lived design. In short, my future is about designing as a way of being: shaping a life, a brand, and a dialogue—through form, story, and responsible thinking.
DI: Do you work as a team, or do you develop your designs yourself?
SH : I usually develop my designs independently—but I never think in isolation. While I handle most of the design work myself, I actively seek out conversations with people from different disciplines. I often consult with engineers, psychologists, or people from other fields to gain perspectives I wouldn’t have on my own. I believe the best ideas often come from unexpected intersections. Even though I’m the one shaping the final product, the thinking behind it is often enriched by input from others. That interdisciplinarity helps me stay grounded, curious, and open to new ways of solving problems.
DI: Do you have any works-in-progress being designed that you would like to talk about?
SH : Yes, I’m currently working on a few things that I’m really excited about. One is chocolate project—not focused on packaging, but on the food product itself. I’m exploring how form can enhance the sensory experience: how a small shift in shape or structure might change the way we interact with taste, touch, or rhythm while eating. I’m also developing a new series of decorative objects—simple, material-driven forms that reflect everyday rituals and emotions. But the most intensive work I’m doing right now is through my PhD. It’s not just academic—it’s a process of rethinking how we relate to existing products and their life cycles, and how design might offer new ways to interpret and extend value, rather than just adding more to the world.
DI: How can people contact you?
SH : The easiest way to contact me is through my website: www.sinemhalli.com You can find my email and other contact information there, as well as selected works and thoughts around design and culture. I also occasionally share updates on Instagram (@sinemhalli), but I keep things more curated there. For real conversations or collaborations, reaching out via the website is definitely the best way.
DI: Any other things you would like to cover that have not been covered in these questions?
SH : I think the questions have already covered a lot—but I’d like to add one thing: I’m currently in a phase of rebuilding—both personally and professionally. As a dedicated designer, a mother, and someone reshaping her independent path, I’m always open to meaningful design collaborations. I believe in thoughtful, responsible design—and I’m eager to work with people, brands, and institutions who value the same. If anything in this interview resonated with you, I’d truly love to connect.