(UN)WOVEN

Sarmīte Poļakova & Mel van Dijk

(un)woven is a biomaterial made from waste and residual products from the textile industry. Short textile fibres are bonded with a biodegradable glue to form a material that feels like rice paper or wallpaper – but stronger. It displays natural colour variations like marble and can be used in architecture, interior design, and product design.

The fashion industry discards enormous quantities of textiles. It is estimated that as much as 80% of all clothing worldwide ends up in landfills or incinerators. Because different types of textiles are often mixed, this ‘waste’ cannot be properly reused. During recycling, fibres become too short, meaning that around 75% new fibres must still be added to produce renewed materials.

We spoke with founder Sarmīte about new aesthetic possibilities for this “waste,” her collaboration with business partner Mel van Dijk, and their journey from laboratory experiments to interiors for carbon-neutral yachts.

Text: Lonneke Craemers
Photography: Blickfänger

Hi Sarmīte, congratulations on your spot on the Secrid Talent Podium! Let’s start at the beginning of your journey. Were you already designing things as a child?

I grew up in a small Latvian village near the Baltic Sea. As a nature girl, I was always building things like garden tunnels, forest treehouses, and beach structures.

In my early teens, I started at a secondary school with an architecture focus in Riga, our capital. However, during my studies, I realized how technical architecture is. I liked the creative part, but not the engineering and math. So, I went in search of something smaller and simpler. That’s how I ended up in product design.

My father made wooden furniture, and my sisters write and make music. There's a lot of creativity in my family. Still, it was a journey to discover what kind of designer I am.

What kind of designer are you, what inspired you?

During my bachelor’s degree, I didn’t feel at home at first. I had trouble expressing myself and doubted my role as a product designer. The program emphasized classic design. A design’s success was measured by its sales figures and its creator’s fame. It was all about scaling up and industry.

I never really resonated with that. But thenI learned about Dutch design, which appealed to me a lot. I remember looking at collections by Droog and the work of Nacho Carbonell, Gijs Bakker, and Aldo Bakker. These pieces felt different. They told a story and weren’t about mass production.

I ended up in the Netherlands on intuition. I got accepted into the Design Academy in Eindhoven and found my way into their Social Design program. It was still product design, but with a social twist. The meaning of the word “social” wasn’t spelled out for us, we had to figure it out for ourselves. That was exactly what I needed.

Every product is a resource taken from its natural environment.

What is social design to you?

I realized that for me it’s not about the product, but about the material. In other words, the phase before something becomes a product. This focus allows me to talk about context. Everything I make has to serve a purpose – whether it’s to improve the environment, make better use of natural resources, or contribute to local communities.

There’s a book by Victor Papanek about the social and ethical role of a designer. Design depends on the earth’s raw materials. Every product takes them out of their natural environment. Every ceramic piece requires clay, and for every wooden chair we are felling a tree. When we create trends or desires, people spend money. That’s a huge responsibility we don’t discuss enough in design education in my opinion.

That’s why I started thinking about our existing resources, such as textiles. Globally, over 80% of all textile products end up in landfills or incinerators. So much waste material is discarded instead of being reused.

Why don’t we reuse more textile waste?

Every year, we produce enormous amounts of textile waste worldwide, much of which is never sold or worn. Technology is being developed to return this waste to its original form, and that is definitely the way forward. But we’re not there yet. Today, we’re not yet able to turn most of our clothing into something we can wear again.

The problem is that textile waste usually consists of composite yarns, like polyester mixed with cotton. There are numerous combinations of natural and synthetic fiber blends. Separating and recycling these fabrics requires expensive chemical processes.

Mechanical recycling, like shredding, is an option, but it shortens and weakens the fibers. To turn, for instance, a cotton-polyester blend back into sustainable textiles, 50% or more virgin cotton or polyester must be added. And with each recycling cycle, the fibers become shorter and eventually unusable.

Recycling textile blends results in short fibers, which require a lot of new material to make new textiles. What’s your solution?

My work revolves around the recognition that we’ve created a kind of Frankenstein material that we can’t recycle. I want to showcase an alternative perspective on this “waste.”

Instead of trying to return them to their original form, I looked at these short fibers and thought: ‘If they’re not long enough, what are they good for?’ They’re fibers. Let’s use them as fibers, not as failed textiles.’

To make materials, you need fibers and a binding agent. This is why I made a biodegradable binder. That’s what (un)woven is about. What defines us is not the fibers, but the glue that holds them together.

You’re developing a biodegradable glue that binds fibers together. What exactly are you making?

It’s a new concept: part textile and part organic additive. We work with all fiber types, regardless of their length or composition. The fibers and adhesive form a sheet material that feels like rice paper or wallpaper, but stronger. It’s not quite fabric, it’s a little stiffer and harder – but easy to shape and sew.

Textile waste is never a single solid color, it always has nuances. From a distance, this creates a beautiful and complex look – almost like marble. Another interesting feature is its textural flexibility. The drying process influences the material’s final shape. When laid flat on a table, it shifts slightly as it dries, creating an uneven surface that resembles wrinkled skin.

What can you use your rice paper–like material for?

We balance artistic expression and industrial applications. Our material is beautiful for offices, restaurants, or spaces where acoustics and aesthetics are important.

We can enhance our bio-textile’s sound-absorbing qualities by making it thicker or supporting it with shredded fibers, making it suitable for wall decoration. We’ve extensively tested it for strength and durability, and it’s also robust enough for furniture and other decorative surfaces.

Do you already have customers using bio-textiles for acoustic wall decoration or furniture?

We work with individual designers using our collection for their product designs and companies wanting to reuse their textile waste for wall panels. This creates a practical and symbolically powerful circular story.

We’re also getting surprising interest from top brands we can’t name. Although not all collaborations led to projects, I see this as confirmation of our aesthetic value. They view us as a serious option.

One of our largest projects was for a yacht interior in the Netherlands. The goal was to build the world’s first zero-emission superyacht. They chose our bio-textile as wall covering, demonstrating its potential for luxury applications.

Smaller projects include lamps and interior objects, where the material’s tactile quality is important.

It’s not just about materials, it’s a philosophy.

What do you mean by the tactile quality of the material?

We’ve created color palettes, patterns, and textures that invite tactile interaction, crucial for arousing interest. I use curiosity, an important human trait, to convey our story. It’s like a secret weapon.

We have deliberately chosen not to prioritize sustainability in our communication. Not every circular product has to look like one or say, “I’m recycled. I’m sustainable.” It should just be the standard.

I want people to wonder, “What is this material?” Without the circular story, it’s about a beautiful, eye-catching material on walls and surfaces.

You make a very beautiful material with color patterns that resemble marble. Do you use biodegradable dyes?

We approach colors in two ways. First, we preserve the original colors in recycled textiles. We don’t make them, but sort textile waste into groups like yellow and red. Second, we add natural pigments. We combine the colors of the textiles with these dyes, causing interesting chemical reactions.

There’s something else about color. A fascinating discovery during our recycling process is how colors evolve during their life cycles. For example, you can see a difference between the second and third life cycles. Our idea is to offer collections based on regenerative palettes. Instead of a traditional static color chart, our color book conveys a narrative about time and the transformation in materials.

Where do you develop and produce your bio-textiles?

I developed the binding agent in my studio and tested it with the Technical University in Latvia. Our bio-textile production is a gradual process, and we work with various partners in multiple phases.

For our collection’s production, we work with a local recycling center in Germany. They supply us with textiles – the short fibers – as the base material. If customers want to reuse their own waste, we use that.

Production occurs in Germany and the Netherlands. In our Frankfurt studio, we produce sheets up to three meters in length and one meter wide – mostly manually. However, we want to switch to a more effective and faster method. We’re considering moving our studio to the Netherlands, where we would have more space for specialized equipment.

You’re looking for a larger studio in the Netherlands. What are your plans for scaling up?

Our biggest challenge is production capacity. We need to scale up our process to enter the market. Material costs aren’t the main expense. What drives up our price is the time and craftsmanship involved, so automation could significantly reduce costs.

My business partner, Mel van Dijk, handles the commercial and operational aspects of our material. I met her through a friend. As a designer, I can’t do everything alone. I’m glad to have found a business partner with a shared vision and philosophy.

What other support would be valuable now that you have a business partner?

Our expansion is following a logical sequence. First, we want to perfect the technical aspects. Then, we want to strengthen our commercial capacity. We need help from material specialists or production engineers. After that, a financial expert and a salesperson would be beneficial.

We need partners willing to go the extra mile. Plastic and textiles have been around for over a century, so their processes are well-developed and cheap. Developing new materials takes time and effort. Interdisciplinary collaboration is essential; we need people with diverse expertise.

Finally, what is the most important message you hope to share?

I hope my story will encourage people to rethink our use of raw materials, as we have so much. Let’s reassess old standards that haven’t aided us in sustainable production.

We should embrace the new. As creators, we can develop a new perspective on materials and show how we can make and use them differently. Our patterns show that we rarely use them forever. How can we design with a temporary function in mind – for a ten-year lifespan, for example? What happens to the material during that period, and how does it become part of something new afterwards?

For example, I could have made our material stronger by adding PU to the glue, but I didn’t want to go down that route. Adding something synthetic is just postponing the problem; you use it and throw it away later. Our material is special because we can remove the binding agent and separate the fibers at the end of their life cycle for reuse.

It’s not just about materials; it’s a philosophy – which applies not only to materials but also to aesthetics and life more broadly. Everything in nature changes color, texture, and shape. There’s nothing wrong with that; it’s beautiful. Let’s embrace that natural evolution.

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(UN)WOVEN

Sarmīte Poļakova & Mel van Dijk

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