Occupying the Imperial College Union Building and its leafy courtyard just south of the Royal Albert Hall, scientists, designers and engineers showcased their projects aiming to enhance the basic ingredients for a better life. Research topics included 'Freedom to explore', 'A place to call home', 'Space to create', and 'Health and wellbeing'.

Visitors checking out products displayed in the garden pavillions

Sports Innovation Challenge is a project challenging engineering students to design, build and implement Paralympic sporting equipment. The cross-faculty programme encourages collaboration across various departments within Imperial College London including Bioengineering, Design Engineering, Electrical & Electronic Engineering and Mechanical Engineering.

Amphibious leg that supports both walking on soft surfaces and swimming

This prosthesis for below-knee amputees is designed to enable the wearer to go to the beach. The foot's twin-toe construction supports walking on soft surfaces, while the 'fins' protruding outwards aid in swimming.

'Gnar' mono-skiing outrigger by Filippo del Carlo, Ian Goode, Lotta Julkunen, and Jungkyung Lee

Mono-skiing outrigger Gnar is designed to improve the skiing experience for people with lower body disabilities. Getting back into position after a fall often poses a challenge for these skiers as they need assistance, with current outrigger designs too short to provide sufficient leverage. The simple but smart addition of a telescopic function with an added handle to lengthen the pole helps them get back up quicker for a more dynamic and enjoyable skiing experience.

'Propel' wheelchair by Andrew Goodhead, Ujjval Jaipuria, Kartikeya Rana, and Kathryn Sayer

'Propel' is a wheelchair system custom-designed for Paralympic swimmer Andrew Mullen. To take advantage of Andrew's strong right leg, the designer attached a pump action mechanism to the footrest that generates propulsion. 

A student demonstrating the innovative braking mechanism of 'Propel'

A further improvement to the wheelchair is the addition of two ergonomically moulded levers that serve for both steering and braking, taking into account that Mr Mullen doesn't have hands.

'37°' by Iddo Wald

An everyday problem I can very much empathise with is cold feet. Design engineering graudate Iddo Wald has created a passive, natural system to make sure the wearer keeps her toes warm for as long as possible. It uses an undisclosed advanced thermally conductive material called 37°, that leads warmth from the heat-creating calf muscle to the less muscular, but more sensitive toes and top of the foot.

The textile characteristics of 37 degrees are similar to those of carbon fibre, shown in this example.

The secret material in use is not a new invention, but has never been used like this in a textile form, the designer tells me. The textile design element of the project was realised in collaboration with Gemma Charlotte Brown.

Iddo Wald demonstrating the conductive strength of 37° compared to copper, wool and steel.

Fine leathers and live stitching presentations drew visitors to London's North-West, where Bill Amberg Studio showcased their latest projects in the Queen's Park Design District. The studio specializes in high-end architectural leather services, as well as bespoke interior work and signature accessories. Sweet with the unmistakable smell of leather, and filled to the brim with old-timey machinery and rolls of fine material, the studio was a pleasant change from the otherwise often high-tech atmosphere of the festival.

Leather sewing machines in the all-handmade workshop space.

The star of the show was 'Stack Table', a beautiful new take on using scrap leather as a surface material. Hundreds of leather cut-offs are randomly stacked, creating a colorful pattern with natural irregularities resulting from the differing thicknesses of the strips used.

The 'Stack Table' table top is made of hundreds of leather cut-offs.

The application of resin and sanding makes the surface durable and smooth, and a brass frame holds the leather in place, giving the table a heavy solid base.

A solid brass frame provides the base for the table.

The first table prototype had only just been finished the week before, so the designers present at the show were very excited to see how the material would age and develop a patina over time.

Beautifully warm haptics and a surface that will show its potential for patina over time.

Stools and benches using leathers from the fashion, accessories, and garment industries.

'Rivet Stool' explores the structural capabilities of leather.

The studio developed 'Rivet Stool' while researching the load-bearing capacities of leather. The product is held together by rivets and entirely made from shoe-sole leather, taking it out of its usual context and creating a surprisingly robust piece of furniture.

Mark de la Vega has one of the more unlikely design success stories imaginable. In 2008, freshly laid off from a job at the retail-design firm Studio Sofield, de la Vega moved to Brooklyn with every intention of opening a taco shop. "I had a lot of experience [in restaurants]," he says. "I had made these really nice business plans. But we couldn't get a loan from the bank. Nobody was getting a loan for anything."

Meanwhile, however, friends had connected de la Vega with—wait for it—Madonna, who ended up commissioning a coffee table from the fledgling designer. (De la Vega has a degree in industrial design from the Art Institute of Colorado, and had done interior and furniture design at Studio Sofield.) De la Vega laid aside his taqueria plans to complete the Madonna piece, which led to other commissions. In 2009, he founded his Red Hook studio, DLV Designs; three years later, he debuted his first collection at ICFF.

A sliding barn door by DLV Designs with the Coquille d'Oeuf finish

Since then, he has relished tinkering with new materials, and one of his signature products has an unlikely story of its own. At Studio Sofield, de la Vega had worked on a Fifth Avenue penthouse once owned by Jacqueline Onassis, with dining room walls veneered with eggshell marquetry trimmed in bronze. In 2009, thinking back to that penthouse, de la Vega picked up a dozen eggs and sat down at the kitchen table with his mother, who was visiting at the time, and the two played around with ways to recreate the Coquille d'Oeuf technique, which was first invented in ancient Vietnam and later revived by the French designer Jean Dunand in the 1920s. "I was trying to put it on with wood glue," de la Vega says. "And then I was filling it in with a joint compound, when finally the idea of using resin dawned on me. That opened a whole other world to me."

Over the years, de la Vega has perfected the technique, which he now has down to a science. Each year, the designer orders 1,800 eggs from a farm in Pennsylvania, which he chose for the integrity of the shells they produce (a lesson he learned the hard way after cheap bodega eggs kept cracking and tearing). "We don't even try to get the food-grade ones—forget it," de la Vega says. "We have them send us their eggs that are past sellable. They just sit on the floor in boxes, because we can't refrigerate them, until we cook them. . . . The smell is pretty horrible."

A table with a crushed-eggshell border

De la Vega hires four or five helpers from Craigslist to assist with production; they begin by stacking the boxes of eggs in the studio's industrial kitchen, where they're hard-boiled in large spaghetti pots. The hard-boiled eggs are then run through a small band saw, slicing them in half vertically, leaving nice, clean orbits. Their insides are scooped out and discarded, with careful attention taken to peel away two membranes lining the inside of the shell that might otherwise discolor or lead to uneven surfaces down the road.

Step one: boil a lot of eggs

The resulting half shells are stacked and placed in large plastic storage boxes from IKEA. Processing the full shipment of eggs takes four to five days. A dozen eggs yield roughly a square foot of paneling, which goes into DLV Designs projects starting at $450—so those 1,800 eggs represent a potential $225,000 or more in product.

One the eggs are cooked, cut and cleaned, they're ready to be used as finishes. Some are put in storage for later projects; the rest are moved to another section of the studio for application onto panels and other pieces. There, a small wheeled cart with a can of spray adhesive, gloves and various X-Acto knives sits next to a flat file overflowing with wax papers covered in eggshells. For each piece, spray adhesive is applied to a section of the paper, and each hemisphere of eggshell is delicately broken and applied to its surface by hand—half guided, half following the shape of the shell. "Nobody knows how to do what we do," de la Vega says. "We've had to train everyone we brought in from the basics. It's hard work."

Applying the cracked eggshells to wax paper

Each eggshell is meticulously adhered, fitting in like a puzzle piece to what has already been laid and then broken to fill any empty spaces. "You start learning how to break them to get triangles and different shapes," de la Vega says. "Will this piece have petals? Sunbursts or fireworks shapes? It's interesting because you try to make this perfect thing, but you always end up with a slice missing and you start trying to fill in that slice." De la Vega says that mastering the process requires "learning how long it takes the glue to dry, how to clean it when you get pulled away and you have to go to something else, how to re-apply. It's very much about the 25 different skill sets that you pick up just trying to accomplish this one thing."

Each worker has his or her own "signature," de la Vega explains, so one person will usually handle an entire commission to keep it looking consistent throughout. "We have to get to a point where we can do a foot an hour, because otherwise, financially, we'll get slaughtered," he says. A large panel, such as for a sliding door, can take up to 80 hours. For those larger fields of paneling, workers build the layer of eggshell on large sheets of wax paper on top of huge wooden tables stacked throughout the space.

A nearly complete panel

Once a swath has been laid and attached to the wax, de la Vega and the workers will examine every inch to look for unattached bits or gaps that might cause bubbles once it's cast in resin. Using tiny brushes and their fingers, they'll clean any additional residue or dirt from the surface. After resin is poured into a mold, the eggshell-coated wax paper is lifted, folded like a taco, and then flipped upside down (so the concave surface is facing the resin) and gingerly placed on top. Air bubbles are released by gently working the wax paper, then poking and sealing larger pockets of air. The entire piece is then placed in a vacuum bag as the resin cures with the eggshells embedded in its surface. "The vacuum bag crunches every inch of it, and it's always terrifying," de la Vega says.

Once it's ready, the wax paper is removed from the surface of the shells, leaving a gummy layer of glue. Any resulting air bubbles in the resin's surface are left unfinished as remnants of the process. "You have to learn to embrace it," de la Vega says. "It becomes part of the character of the piece." Using acetone, the eggshells are cleaned by hand. An orbital sander is used on the surface, and any other light lacquers or sealants are added after that. A recent kitchen backsplash by de la Vega received an additional thin layer of clear resin on top to pass the "spaghetti-sauce test." "We gave them a piece, they put spaghetti sauce on it, and left it on there for a week, and then came back and wiped it off," de la Vega says. "It was perfect."

But after completing several large commissions, de la Vega has begun shifting toward a "less is more" approach. "It's hard for people to wrap their heads around how much labor goes into this," he says. "We're trying to shift from a furniture model to an art and gallery model." With smaller works that put the focus on the technique, the designer hopes he can lower the amount of labor necessary while still adding unique details to his designs. As examples, De la Vega points to a black coffee table with a white eggshell detail in the shape of a circle, which will retail for $20,000, and a mirror with an eggshell frame that he plans to sell for $10,000.

In the meantime, de la Vega is happy to divulge the details of his process, because he knows that the level of difficulty is so high that there's little risk of others ripping it off. "There's no real way to romance out a mistake," de la Vega says. "You have to get every step right or you've totally messed up a ton of work and money. That's why I don't even mind sharing this process—to anyone who wants to copy it, good luck!"

For many would-be makers, there are barriers aplenty that can keep one from realizing one's dreams. One of the first barriers is not having access to the right tools—the welding rig, 3D printer, laser cutter etc. that you need for your project—or the know-how to work one. But thankfully companies like Glowforge are ready to step in and become barrier removers, by designing better, cheaper tools that are easier to use than their forebears.

Glowforge is currently democratizing laser cutting by designing an affordable, easy-to-use laser cutter/printer that takes clever advantage of software. By integrating affordable smartphone cameras linked to software, their machine enables you to do things like draw directly on your part and have the laser trace-cut it (once you've removed your hand, naturally). The hassles of part alignment are all done on the screen of your smart device, rather than on the physical bed of the machine, giving you a WYSIWYG interface that reduces errors. And they reckon that their eponymous machine can rival a $10,000-plus laser cutter, but for just under two grand.

Personalized hardwood skin for Macbook Pro / Print Time: 19min / Material Cost: $9.00

Plywood iPhone stand / Print Time: 42min / Material Cost: $12.00

Walnut veneer Macbook keyboard caps / Print Time: 33min / Material Cost: $12.00

Stacked contrasting pen holder / Print Time: 29min / Material Cost: $8.00

Engraved glass spice jars / Print Time: 9min / Material Cost: $10.00

Kip leather custom satchel / Print Time: 133min / Material Cost: $58.00

Take a look at some of the things they've produced:

Check out how easy this looks to use:

Here's a more in-depth video, for those of you interested in the technology behind it, and some of the early successes that drove company founder Dan Shapiro to develop the machine:

For the next 26 days, they're taking pre-orders for the machine at an astonishing 50% off (i.e. the $4,000 model is going for $1,995), with shipping scheduled for December of this year. Demand is apparently strong: In the four days since the sale began, they'd racked up $3,052,002 in sales!

Of the UI design challenges of smartphones, the swiping of photos seems pretty much solved, but the typing interface is still wanting. That's why Blackberry is not only still around, but is planning to launch the Priv, with a slider interface and physical keyboard:

Blackberry's forthcoming Priv

On the touchscreen keyboard front, we had high hopes for Corey Stone's HERO keyboard, but thus far reviews are mixed.

Corey Stone's HERO keyboard

Now a Swiss app developer called Icoaching is pushing an alternate design. While the Priv has physical keys and the HERO went with concentric rings, Icoaching is betting that a honeycomb pattern will be the winning design. They've dubbed their creation the WRIO keyboard, a loose anagram for "WRite It Once:"ux

The WRIO has already been Kickstarted, easily reaching its $10,000 goal with $12,641 in pledges. There's still nine days left for those who want to see if hexagons work better than rectangles. Buy-in starts at $5 for those willing to wait until March of next year, while the impatient can have WRIO by November for $10.

Get tickets to see Sonos's VP of design, Tad Toulis, at the 2015 Core77 Conference, coming up this October in Los Angeles.

Like any other home-audio company, Sonos designs and engineers its products to sound their best in an ideal listening environment—and then releases those products into a world in which few of us achieve anything close to ideal listening conditions at home, whether due to laziness or ignorance or just having cramped, overfurnished apartments.

Sonos is well aware of the discrepancy, and today it announced a software fix for this age-old hardware problem. It's called Trueplay, and it allows users to tune their speakers to optimize the sound for the unique conditions of their room. The software guides users through a 45-second tuning process—basically, you walk around the room slowly waving your iPhone or iPad up and down, so the mic can pick up a variety of readings while your speaker emits a special measurement tone. (A Sonos representative described the tone—accurately—as sounding like "a laser fight under a waterfall.") The software analyzes how sound reflects off walls, furnishings, glass and other objects in your room, and then tunes the speaker for the best sound.

Sadly, tuning your speaker will not make your room look like this.

I got to hear Trueplay in action at Sonos's Los Angeles studio last week, and the improvement was marked. Sonos stuck one of its PLAY:1 speakers beneath an upholstered chair—a surprisingly common placement in people's homes, they said—and played a pop/R&B track, which was noticeably muffled by the furniture, with the vocals sounding especially muddy. After clicking on Trueplay mode, however, the track sounded significantly brighter and cleaner.

Some high-end studio monitors already offer digital room-correction features, so Sonos is not the first to employ this technology—but it is the first to aim the technology squarely at the layperson, with a simple tuning process that can be performed by anyone. 

Perhaps the best part about Trueplay is that most existing Sonos customers won't have to purchase any new software or hardware: users will see the feature in an update later this year, and it will work with existing PLAY:1, PLAY:3 and PLAY:5 speakers, as well as with other Sonos products to be added later. Users will need an iOS device to run the tuning process—but Android users could always borrow a friend's iPhone or iPad for that 45-second tuneup, and then flip the Trueplay mode on and off via their own smartphone or computer. (The tuning process only has to be performed once for a room, although if you move the speaker you'll want to run it again.)

Sonos also announced a second-generation version of its PLAY:5 speaker.

That may look like a button, but it's not! Play/pause, volume up/down and next/previous track controls are all via "capacitive touch," which kind of feels like tapping and swiping on a smartphone, except with polycarbonate instead of glass.

Today, Sonos also announced a new hardware release— a second-generation version of its flagship speaker, PLAY:5, with several design improvements. Most notably, buttons have been eliminated in favor of "capacitive touch" controls, so you tap to play/pause and adjust volume, and swipe for previous or next tracks. The new PLAY:5 is also supposed to have improved sound and more effective wireless performance to reduce dropouts. As with Trueplay, it will be available to consumers later this year.

For more on the design philosophy behind Sonos, be sure to read our interview with the company's VP of design, Tad Toulis—who is also a speaker at the Core77 Conference in Los Angeles on October 23.

Tonight at Hand-Eye Supply's Curiosity Club we get a feast of information and art! Marcella Kriebel will share the story of how her cookbook, Mi Comida Latina came to be. From learning recipes as she traveled, to designing page layout on a light table, Marcella's book began as a project intended for family and friends. She will discuss her art practice, her interest in illustrating recipes and her experience producing a hardback book in the USA thanks to a successful Kickstarter campaign. Her book is now available nationwide through Burgess Lea Press. Starts 6pm PST at the Hand-Eye Supply store and streaming on the Curiosity Club homepage!

Marcella Kriebel is an artist from Forest Grove, Oregon. After obtaining a degree in studio art and Anthropology, she left the Pacific Northwest to intern at the Smithsonian American Art Musuem. She spent two years as an art installation technician and upon losing her job, she turned her attention to making art full time. In addition to custom design and illustration, Marcella maintains her Etsy shop, Rabbitduck Workshop and markets her work wholesale and retail at a variety of venues. She continues to live and work in Washington, DC.

Hidden away on a dimly lit shelf in the basement of UCLA's Art Library is a charming book of 1980s Japanese product design edited by Koichi Ando. Although I can't quite excuse the book's woefully inadequate representation of female designers (only two!), I am grateful that it introduced me to the work of Hisako Watanabe.

Hisako Watanabe, circa 1989

Watanabe's designs are pure eye candy—full of playful lines, loud colors and unmistakable Memphis influences. She was born in Osaka in 1951 and graduated from the Department of Stage and Display Design at Musahino Art University in 1976. After school she worked for a year in France before establishing The Air Design Studio with collaborator Kenji Oki in 1979. Working both collaboratively and on their own, they have produced a number of sculptural furniture and lighting designs, as well as an impressive range of custom interiors for boutiques, cafes and showrooms.

While there isn't much information available on Watanabe in English, I did locate a brief 1989 catalog of The Air's interior projects. In it, Watanabe writes about the inspiration behind three of her designs from 1988—the Sur-Male chair, the Trois Flamants tables and the Papillon sofa. This trio was created as an ode to the "memory of the Space Age of 1967, and to the Flower Children of 1968." Or, as she goes on to write, "it is a fusion of the speed mania of technologists and the countermeasures of the ecologists. It is also a dream for the long, but all too short journey to 1999."

Luckily, Watanabe's journey has continued well past 1999, and The Air Design Studio has carried on designing objects and spaces true to its own radical (and often whimsical) vision of the future.

The 1988 Papillon sofa, manufactured by Sparks, has a backrest formed in the shape of butterfly wings and a base of coil springs, which allow the sofa to move and bounce in all directions.

The three-legged Sur-Male chair—also from 1988 and manufactured by Sparks—combines a steel base with an acrylic backrest.

The Trois Flamants high table, another 1988 design manufactured by Sparks

The Cosmic-Plant coat hanger, made of neon, steel pipe and aluminum. Manufactured by Ishimaru, 1989.

Sketch of the Cosmic-Plant coat hanger, 1989

Inazuma-Gari chair, 1989. Steel, melamine, fired paint, neon, frosted acrylic. Manufactured by Sparks.

Sexoid II chair, 1989. Fabric, wood, polyurethane paint. Manufactured by Gotand Seisakusyo.

The Analogon desk from 1984 has a body of sheet aluminum and painted wooden drawer components. Manufactured by Ishimaru.

The desk's storage drawers can be extended and also pivoted to provide additional work space.

Osiris II light, 1987. Steel, hammer-tone. Manufactured by Ishimaru.

Roppie light, 1986. Steel, melamine, fired paint. Manufactured by Hiroyuki Hirai.

Babel lamp, 1986. Steel, melamine, fired paint, feathers. Manufactured by Ishimaru.

This was the latest installment of our Designing Women series. Previously, we profiled Anne Swainson, founder of America's first corporate ID department.

As a new addition to LDF's dedicated design hubs in the city, Somerset House made a notable entrance this year as the home to various exhibitions and events, amongst them Ten Designers in the West Wing, and the winners of the competition Powered by Tweets. The spectacular location on the Thames, the broad diversity of exhibitions, and the courtyard as a great lingering place in the glorious weather during the second half the week made Somerset House one of my highlights of this year's festival.

The grand courtyard of Somerset House with sculptures by Marc Quinn.

Twitter UK and LDF joined forces earlier in the year to create a nationwide design challenge asking participants to either solve a problem or create something beautiful using the power of the social network.

'#WordWatching' by Mark Carroll and Alex Willimott.

The challenge the creators of #WordWatching aimed to address was, "How do we keep up with language and how does it evolve?". They suggested using Twitter to monitor language as it changes over time, shown here by their installation that visualized real-time data of the use of popular new words and acronyms on Twitter. 

'#WordByWord' by Jeremy Garner, Albert Seleznyov, Dom Fisher, Yvain Granier and Pierre Briffaut.

A completely new way to 'release' a book was shown by the project '#WordByWord'. Typing out the full text of Alice in Wonderland as soon as the next word in the book was was mentioned somewhere on Twitter, visitors could see Lewis Carroll's work gradually unfold from a modified typewriter. 

It would be interesting to combine #WordWatching and #WordByWord in a few years to see what an overhauled version of the book would look like in modern day Twitter-speak.

A long hallway of Somerset House was occupied by 10 Designers in the Westwing, presenting the work of ten internationally renowned designers invited exclusively for the event.

'Odyssey' by Tino Schaedler and Nabil.

Another exploration into the relationship between the physical and virtual worlds, 'Odyssey' by Tino Schaedler of Optimist Design and VR director Nabil of United Realities invited visitors to a 90-second immersive journey, launching off from one of the rooms in the Westwing on what looked like a turbine-shaped kiddie ride. The combination of the VR headset, wind, vibrations and a spatial sound system aimed to create a multi-sensory experience to "explore design on a more philosophical level."

'MUO' by Ross Lovegrove for KEF.

Ross Lovegrove teamed up with KEF to develop 'MUO', a wireless speaker system which features a strong molded internal enclosure and external aluminum shell to eliminate unwanted cabinet vibration. The installation showed the exploration of small batch color variants for the aluminum casings.

'Nest Shelf' by Nendo.

'Nest Shelf' by Japanese company Nendo had many visitors (including me) looking two or three times at the plaque explaining how it works. At first sight it simply was not visible that the three shelf units on display were actually all the same unit but set up in different states. A clever sandwiching of materials allows the shelf to be collapsed from 1300mm width to 650mm width according to different needs, without any of the mechanism immediately visible when collapsed. While the vertical sections are made from carbon fibre, the horizontal elements are an aramid fibre honeycomb and carbon fibre sandwich, and all elements are coated in a larch veneer.

Sketch showing how a second shelf seemingly grows out of the base shelf.

A favorite amongst visitors at Somerset House—especially for the younger ones—was 'The Wave' by Alex Rasmussen for Neal Feay, filling a whole room at Somerset House.

Young festival visitors enjoyed climbing and sliding on the installation by Neal feay.

The Santa Barbara-based inventors of the process for multi-colored anodizing are constantly looking for new uses for their material, so they set out to recreate their favorite surf wave outside of Santa Cruz for the festival.

The modular structure made from 650 panels only took three weeks to develop, and was shipped to London in standard Fedex boxes. 

The numbers are in, and Apple has sold a record breaking amount of the new iPhone 6S and 6S Plus models over the launch weekend. Thirteen million folks queued up or pre-ordered, and now at least as many Apple haters will start listing reasons why you shouldn't buy one.

Remember "Bendgate?" That turned out to be nonsense, as media hype quickly gave way to hard facts: Less than 0.000001% of iPhone users complained of bending issues during the week of the story, there were rumors of the original video being faked, and it turns out you can bend all smartphones if you apply enough pressure.

To determine the new iPhones' durability, fix-it man and YouTuber Jerry Rig Everything got his hands on one and put it to the test. It's almost painful to watch as he purposely slices at the screen and camera lens with a utility, drags keys across the back, and even subjects the screen to open flame to see what will happen:

I found the difference in results between the face and the rear of the phone surprising. And should I step up to the 6S, I'll be sure not to carry it around in my pocket with a sheet of 80-grit.

In County Cork, Ireland, stands a furniture studio billing themselves as "one of the leading studio workshops in Europe." Looking at Joseph Walsh Studio's work, which uncannily blends the manmade and the organic, leaves no doubt that the claim is accurate.

Company founder Walsh is a self-taught designer and builder, and while he started out as a one-man shop in 1999, today he employs a team of international craftsmen hailing from Ireland, France and Japan. This "team of Master Makers, Design Technicians and their assistants [help Walsh with] engineering, resolving and crafting the work." And they must be patient folk: Some of the shapes, as you'll see below, almost look as if they were designed to torture the guy who's got to get in there to sand.

According to the studio's website, their rather unusual aesthetic stems from Walsh's "appreciation of nature and also his desire to engage the user with visual and tactile forms." What they're going for is

The understanding and sympathetic use of the material; the intimate relationship between the process of finding forms and creating structures; the continuity and resolve from the concept to the making process, define Joseph's studio and work today. He seeks inspiration in nature, in the patterns of growth and evolution - this has influenced his approach to design and process allowing the pieces to evolve and reveal themselves.

Check out more of Walsh's stunning work here.

Earlier this year, a restauranteur in Norway ordered 100 chairs to furnish his establishment. Those of you who were paying attention in Furniture Design History 101 will recognize the Hans J. Wegner design that he ordered:

It's been referred to as The Round One, The Round Chair or simply The Chair. Designed in 1949, it's a prime example of the Danish Modern style, and Nixon and Kennedy sat in these very chairs during 1960's first-ever-televised Presidential debates, giving it a publicity boost.

The copyrights to the chair are owned by Denmark's PP Møbler (who have given it the less sexy name of pp501/pp503). The restauranteur, however, had ordered the chairs from a Chinese company. Norwegian customs officials intercepted the shipment upon arrival and contacted PP Møbler, and the shipment was frozen.

This shipment of knock-offs never made it to the restaurant

According to Danish Furniture, the restauranteur then "offered PP Møbler a substantial amount to release the chairs." Instead, the company mandated that the following happen:

"The entire consignment," reports Danish Furniture, "was destroyed at the customer's expense."

The story has since been picked up by several publications, and the most robust discussion we've read on the episode has been in Fine Woodworking's comments section. In addition to the expected China-bashing, one commenter offers his opinion that the restauranteur--who not only paid for the chairs he never received, but also paid for their destruction--might not be at fault:

A restaurant owner sees these handsome, reasonably priced chairs in a restaurant supply catalog and thinks they will look great in his restaurant. (It's entirely possible he's never heard of Hans Wegner, and it also seems unlikely that, with malice aforethought, he sent some Chinese manufacturer pictures and said, "Make me 100 of these--I can't afford the real deal.")

Another blames consumerism in general:

The people (consumers) have set a demand. It's not only China, it's the people hiring China to copy these pieces for the Western market demand, they just fill orders like any manufacturer would. And because of their society they can do it at a very low cost sometimes degrading the original through material, finish, details and craftsmanship.

Then there was this interesting comment:

Before we bash the Chinese too much, let's not forget where Wegner got his inspiration for this chair. It's very much based on classic Chinese chairs from the 17th and 18th centuries. So who copied who?

To clarify on that last point, an earlier piece of Wegner's was in fact influenced by a Ming Dynasty chair design, and he made no bones about it: The resultant piece is called the China Chair, and Fritz Hansen has been producing it since 1944.

Of course, that cultural borrowing cannot be used to justify present-day design piracy, particularly since we now have laws governing this sort of thing.

I do not feel that Chinese design piracy can be stamped out on moral grounds. If there is profit to be made producing knock-offs, and particularly if that profit is crucial to bare survival in an impoverished region, I believe that that profit motive will greatly overshadow any moral qualms.

I also don't believe design piracy can be eradicated by legal means. Most drugs are illegal in the United States, yet despite us spending billions on a futile drug war, they not only continue to flow into our border, they have made drug cartels worldwide very rich. You can't stop people from making something that they know other people want to buy.

This may sound like a stretch, but I believe the problem could only go away with better design education within China and an attendant army of globally-savvy marketers. If indigenous Chinese design became so good that it was more profitable to produce than copies, then you'd have built-in incentives to innovate. But until that happens, we can expect to see more chair-crushing videos.

South of the Thames, 'Bankside' is LDF's newest design district, and home to the iconic Oxo Tower Wharf, which is filled year-round with over 30 independent retail design studios, exhibition spaces and shops offering furniture, jewellery, homeware, and fashion. 

In its 18th edition this year, Designersblock was situated in the derelict but beautiful Bargehouse, showing multidisciplinary work from over 100 independent designers over three floors.

Designersblock at Oxo Tower Wharf.

The Kirigram collection by Constanze Schweda.

Inspired by Kirigami, the Japanese art of cutting and folding paper, Constanze Schweda has designed a series of furniture that creates three-dimensional furniture from flat steel sheets. The sheets are laser-cut and then extruded by man-power into tables, mirrors and lamps for the Kirigram collection.

Laser engraved wooden printing blocks by Kate Probert-Jones.

Surface pattern designer Kate Probert-Jones uses an eclectic mix of hand drawing, digital pattern making, laser engraving and traditional wood block printing to create intricate multidirectional patterns.

Landscape colour series by Sophie Southgate.

The graphic shapes of Sophie Southgate's continued exploration of the object and the vessel are inspired by landscapes, which she pares back to create basic geometric forms as an abstract interpretation of space.

Popcord charging cable colour range.

With a successful crowdfunding campaign, raising more than 200% of their target, Popcord kickstarted their launch last year, and started shipping early this summer. Now the "Charging cable that is always with you" keyring is available to buy for everyone, and was appropriately presented in the jewellery design section.

'100 days of need and greed' by Kristina Schultz.

For her Konstfack graduate project '100 days of need and greed', Kristina Schultz got rid of everything in the flat she inhabits in Stockholm with her partner and her two kids. As a kind of grassroots approach to explore our relationship to the objects we own and use, she then created everything as and when it was needed from scratch. The resulting products and their iterations neatly showed how starting from zero influences a designer's approach to form and usability.

The knife that resulted to be the easiest to use.

Spoons, plates and forks, reduced to their minimum requirements.

UCA School of Craft and Design occupied the gallery@oxo, and showcased design work by new graduates and staff including product, ceramics, glass, jewellery, textile and metalwork.

Connections by Leona Read

BA Ceramics student Leona Read explores the connections between strength and fragility, light and shadow. Inspired by bone structures, she creates designs that are complex and fragile during the process of creation, but become extremely strong when fired and rigid.

'Time' by Yu Wen Chen.

Yu Wen Chen combines everyday objects with clocks and watches for her MA in product design, aiming to raise awareness of how we manage our time.

'Dazzle Ship London' by Tobias Rehberger.

While not exactly part of the Oxo Tower Wharf, Tobias Rehberger's 'Dazzle Ship London' was docked directly opposite on the Northbank. The artist wrapped the HMS President (1918) in a modern take on First World War dazzle camouflage designs, which were then used to confuse the enemy at sea.

DESIGNING HERE/NOW—the official title and mantra of the 2015 Core77 Conference—kicks off on October 22nd. Will you be there? With less than a month left to purchase your ticket and get your travel and accommodation plans in order, here are 10 reasons that will motivate you to hop off the fence.   

1) 22 luminaries of contemporary design will be sharing insights and enriching your eardrums.

2) You'll have so many opportunities to talk about the presentations, what's happening in the industry and toss ideas around with fellow attendees it's almost like you're getting two event experiences for the price of one.

3) For those of you who don't live on the West Coast of the U.S., have you been to L.A. in the fall? Or any time of year? It's a far cry from the gray, chilly, late October we see here in New York City.

4) You can take all the vision and best practices from our presenters and apply it to your own design and business endeavors. Just imagine the inspiration you'll walk away with. 

5) Spend a day basking in design glory from inside the historic Vibiana, one of Downtown Los Angeles' few remaining 19th century landmarks.

6) Have a drink at one of Don Draper's favorite hot spots.

7) The presentations focus on not one, or two, but four pillars of modern design; Collaboration Now, Making Now, Business Now and The Future Now. 

8) Go on your first field trip since High School. No permission slip needed.

9) We just really like you, okay? Let's have a picnic together.

10) But seriously, have you checked out this speaker line-up?

When people are differing heights, you've got an ergonomics problem. At a movie theater in Copenhagen, I saw something bizarre (to my American eyes) stacked up in the corner: Adult booster seat cushions. Inevitably some Viking-tall Dane would sit in the fourth row, obscuring the view of those more height-challenged behind him, who would then avail themselves of the cushions (amusingly, this created a domino effect).

What to do, in the kitchen, if you're a 6'6" Danish man with a 5'11" wife and a 4' child? To ensure all can enjoy optimum-height worksurfaces, Danish company Sønderborg Køkkenet has devised the Baselift system:

The company's mum on the inner workings, revealing only that the hidden motors operate "almost silently" and do not take up any cabinet or drawer space. And that's not the only trick the company's got up their sleeves—have a look at this video, and be sure to keep your eyes peeled at the 1:00 mark:

How crazy is that disappearing faucet? I'm also digging the side-draft kitchen hood, the pop-up cupboard...heck, I want the whole thing.

Yesterday Tesla launched their highly-anticipated Model X, the design-packed SUV model whose features beggar belief. 

First off the 5,441-pound car is absurdly fast—the Performance model clocks 0-60 in 3.2 seconds—and powerful enough to tow 5,000 pounds. It's got a 250-mile range and can carry seven people. 

The windshield—"the largest all glass panoramic windshield in production," according to Tesla—is so damn big that it's practically the roof.

So why did the Model X, first announced in 2012, take the company longer than they thought it would to produce? In a nutshell, because they designed some seriously awesome features—then had to figure out how to engineer them. Take the second-row seats, which are no mere bench; instead each of the three seats sit on their own "monopost" and can recline independently of the others. "The designers drew inspiration from high-end office chairs," says Wired, "and admit they were, like the doors, a bitch to engineer."

The doors they're referring to are not the front doors, which open automatically as the driver approaches; that was presumably easy. They mean the rear "falcon wing" doors. These are brilliantly ergonomic: Getting in and out of the car is no longer a duck-head-and-twist affair, and parents can tend to children in the seats without needing to crouch. The articulating doors have sensors that can detect if a car or wall is next to you, and also measure the ceiling height of your garage, and the doors automatically adjust as they open to avoid hitting anything.

Speaking of not hitting things, an upcoming software upgrade--delivered OTA or "over the air," naturally--will confer an autopilot function that allows the car to drive itself on highways. Collision avoidance is, naturally, built-in.

Cabin air is scrubbed by a "medical grade HEPA filter" that can be thrown into, get this, a "bioweapon defense mode that creates positive pressure inside the cabin to protect occupants."

"I think we got a little carried away with the X," Tesla CEO Elon Musk told Reuters. "There is far more there than is really necessary to sell a car. And some of the things are so difficult, they make the car better but the difficulty of engineering those parts is so high."

That explains why the Model X missed its original launch date of 2013, and revised launch date of 2014. But it's here now, and even if it's late, it's early: Would-be luxury electric SUV competitors Audi and Porsche won't have comparable vehicles market-ready for another three years.

And if an electric Tesla appeals to you but the Model X's $132,000 to $142,000 price is out of your range, fret not: By 2017 the company is planning to roll out their entry-level, $35,000 Model III.

Here's some video of the launch, containing a brief clip of the falcon wing doors in action:

If you were tasked with designing a two-sided die, what would you come up with? Let’s say the only criteria is that it cannot be a coin, as it must roll inside of a dice-roller like Wyrmwood’s Dice Tower.

The easiest way to solve the problem—and only change the printing, without having to go to new tooling—is like this:

By Eric Harshbarger

By Eric Harshbarger

Some of you would argue that’s a cop-out, but you can’t deny that it works. I find the following solution a bit more interesting:

Downloadable on Thingiverse

Still, some of you cry, that form factor is really a four-sided die.

Via You Imagine

Dice collector Justin Mitchell has found this solution that rolls…

…and this solution that is meant to be thrown:

It took me a second to figure out how to read the one directly above.

Nvenom8 Designs sells this two-sided die on Shapeways…

…but I’m not sure how well it rolls.

Any of you have better ideas? I think this would make for a fun assignment to slap first-year ID students with. And to make it more interesting, the students could also be forced to design a game with the die whereby they gamble their tuition money against one another.

Ric Grefé has been the Executive Director of the AIGA for the past 20 years—an organization that boasts a membership of over 25,000 and has had an enormous influence on the practice of design. After its centennial year—AIGA itself has been around for 100 years—Ric will step down as the organization's director, and in this interview, talks about the state of design, his experience with the organization, his legacy, and his next professional steps.

[Coroflot is proud to be a decade-long partner of the AIGA, and Allan Chochinov served on its national board for the past three years.]

Allan Chochinov: Well, it's hard to know where to start Ric. Design has taken so many twists and turns since you took the stewardship of the AIGA in 1995 (the same year Core77 was founded, by the way!). So maybe that's a good place to begin: When you came onboard, what were the overarching challenges of design, and what were the mandates of a national design organization? 

Ric Grefé: The mid-1990s were an interesting moment for design. Although it was a full decade after the introduction of the Mac, the profession (and the educational community) were still wrestling with what role technology tools might play. It was not clear whether user interface design was a designer's realm or a developer's realm; motion design was not pervasive; we were not yet talking about experience design, design strategy or design thinking. The challenges for the profession were communicating the value of design, educating mothers about what their designer children were doing, and seeking meaningful roles for designers...as well as balancing craft and technology.

The mandate for a national design organization was in flux: an exclusive club of accomplished graphic designers or an inclusive hub of a vital creative community? Was AIGA adapting quickly enough to serve the profession as it was evolving? Was it to serve existing members or lead the next generation of members?

HP Earth Insights by AIGA members FFunction, 2013.

Yikes! That sounds like a tremendous amount on your plate—and on an entire banquet-hall-ful of designers! Do you remember what your first step was? (I know a lot of people, when they're initially brought on into an "existing job" spend the first while "listening." But of course there's also the notion of the neccessity of spending social and political capital quickly; after all, a new person is supposed to do some "new" things, right?)

The situation was exacerbated, of course (always is in new jobs), because the financial condition of AIGA was tenuous. So the first steps were to re-evaluate all operations; begin thinking about new revenue streams; and launching the listening campaign to discover what members were saying across the land.

I spent 180 nights on the road the first year, visiting chapters and influential members, and also had the advantage of bringing in a great facilitator to work with our chapter leaders on imagining the future at a retreat that occurred 6 weeks after I arrived. That resulted in the first drafts of a new strategic plan. We started moving very quickly trying to move away from the impression that we were a club led by cliques; we immediately began to try to implement some of the suggestions from the retreat.

And how did you find your way to AIGA in the first place? You were in public broadcasting, right?

Yes. I was responsible for strategic planning and legislative advocacy for public television and radio in Washington, which was a great prelude to AIGA...working with creative professionals determined to reach people with meaningful content, yet challenged by media and technology. Yet one of the best preparations of that experience was learning how to work with and deeply respect local affiliates—whether television and radio stations or chapters.

From my early teens on, I was a bit of a design geek. And at Dartmouth, I became enthralled with letterpress printing, studying with Ray Nash (an early AIGA medalist). The day after I graduated, I was on my feet all day at the Stinehour Press setting type by hand for a book for the Morgan Library. Yet my careers took me into a number of other arenas before coming across a print ad in the New York Times classified section one Sunday for an executive director at AIGA.

Herman Miller NeoCon 2013 Experience

Well, if you had letterpress ink on your hands, I think you were probably a strong candidate! What were your earliest epiphanies about this organization for which you assumed the stewardship? And particularly, which discoveries turned out to be true enough to last?

Here are a few. AIGA was suffering from a (misplaced) impression among chapters and many members that it was led by an elitist clique in New York that was not well connected to the rest of the country. AIGA at that moment was running more like a club and not necessarily stretching the boundaries of progressive association management (the membership records were 3x5 cards in shoe boxes, at least one Mac had not been taken out of its box, the office network involved placing a floppy disk with your content on the partition between cubbies for the next worker to use, and every employee was entitled to select their own font and style for correspondence). Finances were challenged, yet the production values of national events were not appealing enough to draw sponsors in ways that properly recognized the value of access to our community.

This was precisely the moment when AIGA should (and would) shift from a club to a hub...of an entire networked community. Or, in the metaphor of the moment, to move from the cathedral to the bazaar.

Identity for Kromka Polish Bakery by AIGA member Sebastian Bednarek, 2015.

AIGA was also deeply anchored in "graphic design" even as the design disciplines were being called into play crossing the traditional boundaries seamlessly in service to client needs, but also "communication design" was expanding into interaction design, user experience, branding and ultimately experience design.
Members felt they needed help in understanding how they could create greater value for clients, even as they also felt that AIGA needed to help them communicate the value of design more broadly to the public, business, government and the media.

There were few student members and no organized student groups. Educators had abandoned AIGA to create their own association.

These, and other observations, were a perfect environment to help transform an esteemed eighty year old organization into an influential voice and supportive institution for creative professionals who were changing business, technology, media and culture.

You talk about "communicating the value of design"—and of course, this notion has reached a fevered pitch right now. Indeed, many have argued that, FINALLY, "design" is seen and understood as a core competency. (In startup conversations, there is always the designer "third" in the formula: "A businessperson/entrepreneur, a developer/coder, ...and a designer!") Of course, this is almost invariably referring to interaction designers—to the creation of apps, platforms, and services. So I've got two questions: Do you think designers are ahead of this argument (versus being the wagged tail, again "in the service of industry"), and do you think that AIGA—or more specifically, belonging to AIGA—helps give designers the heft that they need when making the business case for design?

 I think designers are ahead of the curve in being closely associated with both innovation and the customer experience specifically in any social media or technology interaction applications, since the designed interface is virtually the whole experience. This is the vamped start-up scene. In other areas of product, communication, experience, service and organizational design, the appreciation for design's central role is growing more slowly when looking across the board but is demonstrated dramatically in some highly visible cases.

And you ask about AIGA's role in all this.

AIGA is a shared voice always promoting the value of design and its potential to create value for business, society and each person's experience. In this role, we create greater understanding, respect and opportunity for all designers.
Some designers do not need the help. They have found ways to demonstrate the full range of their capability with clients—as a result of vision, thoughtful communication or the sheer virtuosity of their work. However many designers make their case by reinforcing simply what they, personally, can do for clients. AIGA, on the other hand, takes a position that all designers have a role to play in stages product or service development and strategy and certainly in crafting the ultimate experience.

This was precisely the moment when AIGA should (and would) shift from a club to a hub...of an entire networked community. Or, in the metaphor of the moment, to move from the cathedral to the bazaar.

AIGA has been an early voice for the profession in areas such as brand experience, experience design, service design, design for social change, design to improve the civic experience, providing design as a substantive element of the discussion of business, political, global and social issues. In each of these cases, AIGA has played a role in opening the door to credibility for designers in realms that extend beyond popular preconceptions…and all aimed at enhancing the influence of designers and their value. This is accomplished through our role in forums where business leaders and independent sector leaders gather, creating broad demand for designers in new roles.

For designers who feel their voice and experience alone can change the world, there may be little need for a community of designers to pursue their aspirations together. For those who welcome the volume of a shared voice, the means of growing through shared experiences, and a structure for exploring opportunities for the future of the profession, AIGA plays a critical role.

MoMA Site redesign by AIGA members Cool Grey Six, 2009

Well, that last batch of designers might get kinda lonely :) At the start of your last response you mention many kinds of design, and I'm wondering if you could talk a bit about how AIGA redefined itself from a "graphic design" guild to "the professional association for design". I imagine that was a hard sell. Or was it?

The transition from The American Institute of Graphic Arts, with its deep legacy in graphic design, to AIGA, the professional association for design, was easy and hard, leading and following, forward looking yet sad for some.

By the time the issue came up, many of our most successful designers were confidently addressing challenges for clients that went beyond the traditional sense of graphic design, even though most of our members had emerged from a graphic design education. Communication design, at a minimum, began to encompass more aspects of the profession, as designers took responsibility for form and content in their work. The most influential designers were working in a space that was more conceptual, more multi-disciplinary and more strategic than the making of two-dimensional artifacts. Outspoken members were urging that AIGA begin to move toward a model of design that was problem solving rather than creative making.

And then the profession began working much more frequently in the digital realm; interaction design, user experience, experience design and brand experience became part of what some saw as the progressive expansion of the domain. And these new fields of practice drew from digitally literate communication designers as well as from developers.

"Many designers make their case by reinforcing simply what they, personally, can do for clients. AIGA, on the other hand, takes a position that all designers have a role to play in stages product or service development and strategy and certainly in crafting the ultimate experience."

So AIGA contemplated the change at a moment when it was clear that future opportunities for designers would extend well beyond graphic design. At the same time, many of our members had already made that shift. We were both leading and following our members in this transformation.

Easy and forward looking, because it seemed self evident if you were to lead the profession to a more influential future, as professional associations should; hard and sad, because few designers who loved the craft wanted us to seem to be diminishing our attention on the craft and passion that had drawn them to the profession.

So how did you ultimately reconcile the two?

The challenge for AIGA became one of being credible as an organization that supported the inspirations and aspirations of disciplines that had once considered themselves discrete or that had only recently defined themselves, with the usual brash self-confidence that they are different from everyone else.

Yet today, by focusing clearly on the potential for designers to use their creative talents to make a difference in the world, regardless of the confines of their education, AIGA attracts communication designers, type designers, industrial and product designers, design strategists, service and organizational designers, educators and design managers, and those interested in designing for social change. AIGA's activities—conferences, editorial content, professional development opportunities, and chapter events—reflect this breadth of interests.
We try to balance an exploration of design in all its forms with programming that helps to refine designers' appreciation of complexity and context, aspects of problem solving that are missing in the traditional design education and yet are relevant to every form of design.

Our content and our advocacy are strongly ecumenical, covering the breadth of design and the full potential for the creative mind to create value. Our membership is broadly based in all dimensions. Yet we continue to strive to deepen our program offerings in ways that reassure members who did not emerge from communication design that we represent the community that will help them to succeed.

Design quote illustrated by Mario De Meyer. Commission by AIGA, 2015.

"...the full potential for the creative mind to create value." That's very beautiful. And so now I'd like to ask where your creative mind will next be creating value? What will be your first moves after you transition out of AIGA, and where do you see yourself in, say, three years from now?

I have discovered three truths about my own interests during my careers and I am ready to act on them.

First, my manna is ideas…thoughtfully expressed or discovered ideas from divergent and distant perspectives. I read essays voraciously from the humanities, social sciences, political sciences, philosophy and the arts.

Second, I will always want to find ways to apply the power of designing in its integration of empathy, creativity and commitment to flawless execution toward solving problems that affect the human experience. This is a special gift of my experience working with all of you over the years.

And third, I love to watch people of all ages learn…and I believe learning is so critical today, both for reasons of technological change and simply to improve civic discourse. The "missing semester" incidentally is not technological; it is in the subjects that influence human relationships and understanding.

With that said, once I have made my way through the stack of books next to my bed, I will turn to finding a next career that builds on these interests and hope to find a purposeful use for them.

Like every year, the Victoria and Albert Museum is the central hub of the London Design Festival. The longest queue of the day here rewarded visitors with an immersive experience of mischer'traxler's collaboration with champagne brand Perrier-Jouët .

Upon approaching the V&A's Norfolk House Music Room on the second level, a gentle buzz and clinking of glass filled the air of the museum, reminiscent of warm summer nights when bugs—drawn in by the light—get caught inside a lampshade.

Inspired by Perrier-Jouët's connection to the Art Nouveau movement and the traditional use of insect motifs throughout this period, the Austrian design duo has created an interactive installation of 250 mouth-blown glass globes made by the Viennese glass company Lobmeyr.

Visitors exploring the interactive installation by mischer'traxler.

As visitors approach the installation, the insects start to move more rapidly, creating a constantly changing and mesmerizing sound and lightscape in the room.

Detail view of one of the 25 insect species.

There were 25 insect species represented, falling into one of three categories: newly discovered, common, and extinct. Each of the globes contained one insect, hand-assembled from laser-cut printed foil and embroidered to form the body. 

Curiosity Cloud is part of the ongoing collaboration 'Small Discoveries' between mischer'traxler and Perrier-Jouët, aiming to "celebrate moments in nature and how people interact with the natural world".

If all cooks had large kitchens with plenty of storage, they might well store their pot lids right on the pots. But that's not reality; many end users need to nest their pots and pans or hang them from pot racks. And then they need to find a way to store all the lids.

A lid rack that sits within a kitchen cabinet is one solution. The StoreMore lid holder from YouCopia is an especially thoughtful design because it's adjustable, so lids of various sizes (including various handle heights) will fit. It's also super simple to use, with no installation required. (That's a nice feature for apartment dwellers.) It has non-slip feet to keep the rack in place.

Some end users will prefer a lid rack that pulls out, making it easier to reach the lids. The Lid Maid lid organizer has worked well for many purchasers, but those with thick lids have had problems with those lids not fitting into the two narrow channels, which aren't adjustable. And some purchasers have found this lightweight plastic organizer isn't sturdy enough for their heavier lids. Installation was difficult for some end users, too. 

The Lynk Professional Roll-out Lid/Tray organizer has none of the design issues of the Lid Maid product. Purchasers note how sturdy it is (holding cast iron lids just fine) and how easy it is to install. One added benefit: It also works well for trays and cookie sheets, so it can serve two purposes (or get re-purposed if the end user's storage needs change). 

Over-the-door lid racks are another way to keep lids in a cabinet. The Galileo lid holder from Metaltex is nice choice for a renter, since no holes need to be drilled. However, the inherent constraints in designing this type of product—it needs to fit  above any cabinet shelf—will limit what this rack can hold. And indeed, some purchasers have noted that larger lids (or curved ones) don't fit well.

The PotTop Cradle attaches to the cabinet door with removable adhesive strips, so it's another good design for apartment dwellers. It holds a wide range of lids, too. Since each cradle holds one lid, it's easy to position them on a cabinet door to avoid hitting any interior shelves. 

The Deco Brothers pot lid rack is intended to hang on cabinet doors or on the wall. However, purchasers who wanted to put the rack on a door have noted that the screw holes tend to fall on the thinner part of the door; as a result, the screws extend out through the other side of the door. Also, the rack works for larger lids, but smaller ones can fall through. It doesn't fit domed lids or many of those with loop handles. But purchasers with a number of large lids (with the right kind of handles) are glad to find a rack that accommodates them.

Combination pot and lid racks can make a lot of sense (since they are used together), and the one from Woodform is a nice example. It can hold up to 75 pounds, assuming you install it by drilling into studs. (The mounting holes are at 16-inch centers to match typical stud spacing.) This could work well for kitchens with limited cabinet space, and it will help cooks who have difficulty bending down to reach the pots and lids. And because this is a wall rack and not a ceiling rack, it could readily be positioned so that even those of us who are short could reach the lids without a problem.

Pots and their lids could also be stored in kitchen drawers, and Rev-A-Shelf has a pegboard system with racks for both. It doesn't seem very space efficient, though.

Designers can also create pots and their lids in ways that make it easier for cooks to deal with the lids. This pull-out cabinet organizer for pots and pans comes from Glideware, but notice how the lids (with their loop handles) fit over the handle and hang right along with their pots. Domenica Marchetti, writing in The Washington Post, notes that All-Clad and Mauviel are two of the brands that provide such designs.

The Hook cookware collection, designed by Karim Rashid for TVS, consists of pots and lids that hang from a wall-mounted bar.

Designers can also reduce the number of lids the end user has to cope with by using universal lids that work with a number of different pots and pans. All-Clad has done that with its TK collection, where three lids fit all the pots and pans in that collection.