Topics include growth hacking, game design, blockchain, AI, digital marketing, cybersecurity, copywriting, and big data.
The post Enhance Your Expertise Anytime with Unlimited Online Courses — Now $19.97 appeared first on TechRepublic.
The design museum makes one quiet argument. Certain objects deserve to be looked at, and how a thing is made can matter as much as what it does. Most people accept this on a Saturday afternoon in front of a Noguchi lamp or an Eames chair, then go home to a shelf full of things nobody chose with the same intention. That gap is worth closing, and it does not require a renovation budget.
These six objects cost somewhere between a round of drinks and a dinner for two. None are functional in the way a charging cable is functional. They are functional in the way a good room is, changing how a space reads and getting noticed before anyone can articulate why. That quality has very little to do with price and everything to do with knowing where to look for it.
Dutch designer Annebet Philips began this collection in cardboard rather than clay, cutting shapes with deliberately uneven edges and treating the paper prototype as the design language itself rather than a step to be discarded. Belgian brand Serax carries the result through to porcelain: a coffee and tea service that has since grown to include plates, a breakfast bowl, an egg cup, and a salt and pepper set. Every piece started as a childlike cutout on a blank page. Nothing about that origin was smoothed away in production.
What makes each piece genuinely strange is that it reads as a drawing of itself. Hand-painted black lines trace every fold and seam, giving cups and saucers the flattened quality of ink on paper rather than fired ceramic. Photographed straight on, a cup collapses into what looks like a quick sketch, the handle reading as a doodled loop rather than a ceramic ear. Everything is microwave and dishwasher safe, which keeps the concept in daily use rather than retreating to a shelf nobody touches.
Most speakers announce themselves. They sit on surfaces with blinking lights and trailing cables, with the general suggestion of being placed there temporarily. Kenji Abe’s ECHO arrives from the opposite direction. It is a glazed ceramic chamber built on the acoustic logic of a seashell and a cupped hand that looks exactly like a small vase. Slide a phone underneath, and the cavity carries audio outward in soft, diffused waves. No power. No pairing. Nothing to charge or set up.
The decision to use ceramic was not incidental. Ceramic belongs to the visual grammar of a home, the language of objects that have simply always been there, and ECHO uses that familiarity to disappear into a room entirely. A guest would not identify it as a speaker. The glazed surface catches light the way pottery does, and when the phone is gone, it stays on the shelf with the composure of something that was never trying to perform in the first place.
Every day, thousands of tons of cut flowers are incinerated at flower markets because they reached the end of their shelf life before a buyer arrived. Rebloom Studio, a Korean design practice, collects those discarded blooms, processes them into pulp with Korean paper pulp and a natural binder, and molds the result around an interior glass cylinder. The finished piece is a vase made entirely from flowers that never got the chance to be seen by anyone.
No two Petal Vases look alike. The flowers used to make each one determine its final color, texture, and edge profile. The jagged rim, the petal compression visible in the walls, the slight asymmetry in the silhouette- all of it is preserved deliberately rather than corrected in finishing. When the vase reaches the end of its life, the biodegradable shell returns to the earth. It is one of those rare objects where the material story requires no explanation because you can already see exactly where it came from.
The entryway surface tells a familiar story, and it is rarely flattering. Keys land wherever there is space, coins scatter to the edges, a watch ends up beside a receipt from last week. Joao Teixeira’s Delicato Tray for Oftwise is cast from Jesmonite AC730, a water-based, fire-rated stone composite, in the form of a rippled disc. The concentric waves are asymmetric by design: wider at the outer ring for keys and glasses, tighter toward the center for rings and coins.
At the center of those ripples sits a recessed pocket sized for a tealight candle, turning the daily ritual of dropping your things at the door into something closer to a ceremony. Because the tray is hand-cast, no two are identical. Small air bubbles, subtle texture variations, and minor color shifts are natural byproducts of the process. The result is two kilograms of warm sandy stone that makes a surface look deliberately arranged before anything has been placed on it at all.
Robert Spillner spent years building components for Formula 1 teams before reversing the entire premise of his career. Instead of measuring speed, he built an object that stages time. Luna is a 400 x 400mm wall piece framed in matte black solid wood with a cast acrylic pane at its center. Inside, a single pointer moves through Zero Flow Technology, Spillner’s proprietary fluid made from distilled water, additives, micro-particles, and a small quantity of genuine lunar dust. Behind the pointer, turbulent patterns mark what has passed. Ahead of it, the liquid sits completely undisturbed.
The exact composition of the fluid is deliberately undisclosed, and that is the right call. The lunar dust is certified and billions of years old, documented with a certificate of authenticity that ships with each piece. Every Luna is signed, numbered, and limited to 99 per year, all made on demand in Germany. A small LCD touchscreen adjusts time and brightness without competing visually with the fluid. Spillner describes it as an art object with a time function, and the order of those words is correct.
The paper lantern is one of the oldest resolved problems in lighting design. How do you carry warmth from a candle flame into a room without losing it to the hardness of the fixture? Japanese designers worked through that question for centuries and arrived at a form that required almost no further development: a collapsible structure of thin ribs and translucent paper that diffuses candlelight into a soft, directionless glow.
What separates a well-made Japanese lantern from a decorative replica is the quality of light it produces and how it behaves in a room. Warm and sourceless, candlelight filtered through translucent paper fills a corner the way natural light from a small window does, without the hard edge of a focused lamp or the flatness of overhead lighting. On the floor beside a chair or a side table, it becomes the kind of object people notice and comment on before they have thought to ask what it is.
None of these objects ask for much. A shelf, a corner, a spare stretch of counter. They do not need a gallery to earn the attention they receive. What they share is the quality of being genuinely chosen, the sense that someone worked through a problem not just until it was functional but until it was right. That difference is immediately visible and, unlike most things in a home, it does not fade with time.
The museum argument is that certain objects deserve to be seen. These six make the same case from a kitchen counter, an entryway shelf, a bedroom wall. The price point is almost beside the point, though it helps. What matters is that buying thoughtfully and buying well tend to produce the same result: a home that feels assembled by someone who paid attention, rather than one that simply accumulated things over time.
The post 5 Home Objects That Look Like They Belong in a Design Museum but Cost Less Than a Dinner Out first appeared on Yanko Design.
Let’s talk about the math for starting a small apparel brand. You have the designs, the drive, and a growing list of people who want to buy your stuff. Then you look up the gear. Aside from the thousands in hardware, materials, and a good air-purification system (because breathing is generally a good thing), you’re also looking at a massive space investment. Suddenly, you’re nearly $10k in, and need an entire garage for something the XtraMaker M1 Series offers in a tabletop format for a fraction of the price. With a modular printhead design no less, allowing for customization all within the form factor of a large microwave oven.
This is where the XtraMaker M1 Series finally brings apparel creation into the desktop factory era. It takes that sprawling, expensive production line and collapses it into a single, self-contained unit for $2,999. This is the micro-factory for fabric we’ve been waiting for, handling everything from printing the transfer to curing the adhesive inside a fume-filtered system that fits on a desk. It’s the machine that makes the business plan finally make sense, shrinking the startup cost by two-thirds and proving that the next big apparel brand doesn’t need an industrial loan to get started; it just needs a desktop.
Designer: XtraMaker
Click Here to Buy Now: $2999 $6499 ($3500 off). Hurry, only 38/50 left! Raised over $331,000.
The M1’s core innovation is condensing the entire five-step DTF relay race into a single, autonomous sprint. It prints, powders, shakes, cures, and purifies its own air without any manual handoff between stages. This integrated workflow is critical for a desktop machine, as it eliminates the mess and fumes that make traditional DTF printing impossible in a home or small studio. The enclosed system uses a multi-layer filter to capture stray adhesive powder and neutralize the chemical smell from the curing process, keeping the workspace clean and breathable. This turns what was once a multi-machine, garage-only operation into a clean, one-click process you can run from a spare room.
Print quality is anchored to commercial standards, with G7 Master-certified color accuracy ensuring that on-screen RGB designs translate faithfully to the final CMYK print. At a resolution of 1440×1440 DPI, the M1 Series produces sharp, detailed transfers where fine lines and photo-realistic gradients come through cleanly. The resulting prints are just 0.5mm thick, allowing them to blend seamlessly with the fabric’s texture rather than sitting on top like a stiff, plastic patch. This professional-grade output works across a huge range of materials, from cotton, denim, and polyester to more delicate fabrics like silk, giving creators a massive canvas for their ideas.
XtraMaker’s engineers clearly obsessed over reliability, building in a suite of defensive systems to prevent common failures. The most notorious issue in DTF printing, white ink clogging, is addressed by the LoopMaster
system, which uses automatic 15-minute circulation cycles and continuous cartridge stirring to keep the dense ink from settling and drying in the lines (the white ink circulation system operates with zero ink consumption too). Even more impressive is the built-in UPS battery. If power cuts out, the battery instantly triggers a flush, replacing the ink with a protective fluid to save the printhead from drying out. The UPS battery also powers the printer’s auto-maintenance system while the machine is on standby or powered off. This enables the machine to automatically fill the ink channels with moisturizing liquid and keep the white ink stirring continuously for up to 30 days. Combined with over 20 sensors that monitor the machine’s health and ink levels in real-time, all this creates a system that actively works to prevent the most expensive and frustrating problems before they happen.
The entire package is tailored for small business growth, from the software to the hardware options. The XtraMaker Studios app includes a cost estimation tool that calculates ink and film usage, giving you a precise per-print cost so you can price your products profitably. A 3D preview feature also lets you see how a design will look on a finished garment, saving time and materials. The M1 itself comes in two sizes: the standard M1 for A4-sized prints, perfect for logos and chest graphics, and the larger M1 Pro, which handles A3+ prints for full-back designs on hoodies and jackets. This gives a growing brand a clear upgrade path as their product line and ambitions expand.
XtraMaker’s M1 Series is aimed squarely at the new wave of creators: Etsy sellers, independent streetwear labels, and craft fair operators who need professional output without the industrial overhead. While other desktop DTF printers exist, none integrate the entire five-step workflow, the advanced anti-clog and power-loss protection, and the built-in air purification into a single unit at this price. It’s a machine that understands that for a small business, the real costs are complexity, downtime, and mess.
Click Here to Buy Now: $2999 $6499 ($3500 off). Hurry, only 38/50 left! Raised over $331,000.
The post This $2,999 Device Turns Your Desktop Into A Custom Apparel Printing Factory (With Air Purification) first appeared on Yanko Design.
Japanese kitchen tools tend to arrive with a very specific philosophy attached. They do less than you expect on paper and more than you realize until you’ve used them for a week. The three objects below cover different ends of that idea: a precision appliance from one of Japan’s most storied engineering brands, a pair of scissors built for the demands of serious kitchen prep, and a clay pot that has been doing its job correctly since the Kamakura period.
What connects them isn’t aesthetic or price point. It’s the sense that each was designed by someone who had a genuine opinion about what the object should do, then made it do exactly that. August is a good month to pay attention to the kitchen — the produce is at its best, the cooking is more instinctive, and the tools you reach for most tend to reveal themselves. These three are worth reaching for.
The name requires a moment. Mitsubishi, the Japanese conglomerate better known for cars and precision electronics, makes one of the most exacting home bread ovens available. The machine applies the same engineering discipline to baking that Mitsubishi Electric brings to everything else it builds: controlled heat, precise internal timing, and an attention to the baking chamber environment that consumer appliances from Western brands rarely match. The result is a loaf with a crust and crumb structure most countertop machines simply cannot produce, regardless of recipe.
What makes it worth covering in a design publication isn’t only the output. The form is unmistakably Japanese in its restraint — minimal, white, without the button complexity that clutters European bread makers at comparable prices. It occupies counter space the way well-considered appliances should: as an object with a clear visual point of view rather than a machine that apologizes for being there. Bread that comes out of it tastes like something was genuinely thought about. Because it was.
Kitchen scissors are one of those tools most cooks underestimate until they own a genuinely good pair. The Precision Chef Kitchen Scissors make the case for re-evaluation. Built with the material standards and blade geometry you’d expect from Japanese cutlery, they work through herbs, spring onions, dried chilies, and butcher twine without the handle torque that cheaper scissors force you to compensate for on every cut. Edge retention is where the quality gap between these and a supermarket pair becomes immediately obvious.
The design is deliberately restrained, which is exactly the right call for a kitchen tool that needs to sit in a drawer and get used without ceremony. Nothing superfluous in the grip, nothing decorative in the blade. Japanese kitchen scissors at this level function as precision instruments that happen to look like scissors. Once you’ve used a pair built this well for a full week of regular prep, the ones you owned before start to feel like a different category of object entirely.
Iga clay comes from Mie Prefecture in Japan, where the local earth has been used for ceramics since at least the Kamakura period. The porous structure of Iga-yaki absorbs heat slowly and releases it with a consistency that metal pots structurally cannot replicate. Rice cooked in it sweetens. Broth deepens over a lower flame than you’d expect to produce it. The exterior stays rough and unfinished while the interior is glazed smooth — two surfaces on the same vessel, each doing exactly what it should.
Available from TOIRO Kitchen in several sizes, the donabe asks for a single seasoning step before first use — simmering rice water in the vessel — and then becomes one of the most reliable pots in the kitchen. It handles rice, hot pot, steaming, and slow braise with equal competence, which makes it the rare piece of cookware that earns its space by quietly replacing three other things. Store it with the lid off after washing, and it will be in your kitchen for decades.
Three tools, three distinct registers of Japanese kitchen culture. Mitsubishi brings precision engineering to something as ordinary as a morning loaf. The scissors bring professional blade standards to daily prep work. The donabe brings centuries of ceramic craft to the kind of cooking that rewards patience over speed. None of them are trying to make the kitchen faster or more efficient. They’re trying to make it better, which is a different ambition and one worth paying for.
August is when most kitchens are running at full capacity — markets are abundant, evenings stretch long enough to cook properly. The tools you own in that window shape what’s actually possible in it. These three share a conviction that how something is made matters as much as what it does, and that conviction shows up every single time you reach for them. Start with whichever one your kitchen is currently missing most.
The post The 3 Best Japanese Kitchen Tools You Need to Buy August 2026 first appeared on Yanko Design.
The multi-tool has been around long enough that most people have developed a frustrated relationship with it. You carry one because having a blade, a screwdriver, and a bottle opener in one place sounds practical, and then you grumble when you actually need something. Getting to the right tool means prying at a tightly packed frame with both hands, and that dynamic hasn’t changed much in decades.
GEO, designed by Invento Design, takes issue with that familiar frustration. Rather than folding tools out from a layered frame, it uses a patent-pending rotating disc mechanism that cycles through five tools, exposing each one through a single opening. It’s a deceptively simple reframing of an old idea, and one that makes you wonder why nobody had taken this approach before.
Designer: Francisco Molina (Founder of Invento Design)
Click Here to Buy Now: $45 $70 (36% off). Hurry, only a few left!
The way it works is fairly intuitive. Outer index levers let you rotate the internal mechanism until the tool you want lines up with the access window. A sliding lock then holds the selected tool in position before you start. The whole operation happens in one hand, without setting anything down first or needing a second hand to hold the frame steady.
The five tools cover a surprisingly practical range of everyday needs. You’d reach for the blade and scraper when a label refuses to peel cleanly, the box opener when a taped-up package isn’t cooperating, the bottle opener at the end of a long day, the flathead driver for a loose screw or a stubborn paint can lid, and the string cutter when scissors aren’t anywhere nearby.
Carrying something with a blade in your pocket raises the obvious question of what happens when it isn’t in use. GEO handles this with a dedicated safety mode, a neutral rotational position where no edges are exposed. The sliding lock serves a separate purpose, preventing the mechanism from turning mid-task. Together, they make it safe enough to pocket, clip to a belt, or drop into a bag.
The form factor makes carrying it a fairly easy decision. At 53.5mm in diameter and only 8.7mm deep, GEO lands somewhere between a large coin and a watch face. The integrated belt clip adds some depth but keeps the total thickness under 15mm. It fits in a jeans pocket, clips to a gear bag, or disappears into a drawer without demanding much space.
There’s something worth noting about how it actually feels to use, too. The rotation isn’t purely functional but also incredibly satisfying. Each position clicks into place with enough tactile feedback that you know exactly where you’ve landed, and the smooth lever action makes it oddly enjoyable to cycle through even when nothing needs doing. It tends to stay in your hand a bit longer than the task requires.
The construction does a good job of reinforcing the premise. GEO’s tool body is milled from 440C stainless steel hardened to 57–59 HRC, placing it in the same material territory as quality kitchen blades. Cover panels come CNC-machined from either 6061-T6 aluminum or Grade 5 titanium, with internal hardware in 304 stainless steel throughout, a quietly serious specification for something this compact.
GEO isn’t meant to replace the full-size tools sitting in workshop drawers or on a fully loaded belt. It’s better understood as something for the other moments: the stubborn tape, the loose screw, the cord that needs a clean cut. Its compact, circular form makes it easy enough to keep close that reaching for it becomes the natural first move rather than an afterthought.
Click Here to Buy Now: $45 $70 (36% off). Hurry, only a few left!
The post A Coin-Sized Disc Just Reinvented the Multi-Tool Nobody Could Fix first appeared on Yanko Design.
Nothing spent three phone generations convincing us that a few light strips on the back of a device counted as a personality. The Glyph Interface was the whole brand in one gesture, a Morse code of notifications you could read with the phone face-down on a bar table. Then Phone (3) arrived in July 2025 with the Glyph Matrix instead, a small dot matrix circle tucked in the corner, and the comment sections held a funeral. “NO GLYPH” became the shortest and angriest review of the year. Which makes it pretty funny that the most convincing argument for reviving that light language has come from a fan concept for a synthesizer.
Abdelrahman Shaapan’s Mini OP-3 wraps a semi-transparent rear panel around a compact synth, with LED effects and dynamic graphics that pulse along to whatever you’re playing. Flip it over and the front is pure Teenage Engineering, a clamshell with a touchscreen lid and a control deck of encoders, transport keys, numbered pattern buttons, and one red COPY key doing a lot of emotional labor. Shaapan calls the project an exercise in translating the design DNA of both brands into a single object. He also added a charm attachment point on the screen corner, because it is 2026 and everything needs a little guy hanging off it. The pitch is a smaller OP that keeps you off your laptop during production and live sets.
Designer: Abdelrahman Shaapan
Ten function keys run across the top of the deck, covering waveform and tape banks, sync, split, copy, paste, metronome, scissors, monitoring, and loop. Below them sit eight encoders arranged in a greyscale gradient from black to white, which is the single most OP-1 gesture available to any designer working in this language. A transport row follows with record, play, and numbered pattern keys, then a modifier row carrying shift, divide, ramp, and a random button. The hinge hides a perforated speaker band, and the front edge packs two USB-C ports beside four 3.5mm jacks. Every control is round, tactile, and spaced like it expects to be hit fast in a dark room.
Nothing built its identity on light as an interface, then retired it on the Phone (3) in favour of a dot matrix that most owners still describe as a downgrade. Shaapan’s rear panel puts that language back to work, running LED effects and dynamic graphics that respond to your audio in real time. On a phone, reactive lighting was always slightly decorative, a party trick for incoming calls and little else. On an instrument, it has an actual job, giving you a visual read on your track from across a stage or a crowded studio. Relocating the Glyph to the one product category where it earns its keep is a sharper piece of brand analysis than most fan concepts manage.
Shaapan rendered the whole thing in KeyShot. The soft-touch black body, the subtle sheen on the encoder caps, and that partially translucent rear panel with internals showing through all read as convincingly manufacturable rather than aspirational. The charm attachment point is the detail I keep coming back to, since TE has always sold straps and cases as identity objects and phone charms are having a genuine cultural moment. We covered a Teenage Engineering DJ console concept a couple of years back, and this one clears that bar comfortably. The presentation is good enough to be mistaken for a leak.
One thing undercuts the pitch. Shaapan says the goal was minimizing laptop dependence, but three renders show Ableton Live running on the touchscreen, which means the device became a laptop instead of replacing one. Ableton’s own Push 3 already solves the standalone problem and charges around two thousand dollars for it. That gap between the stated intent and the renders is the part a real product team would have to close first. Everything else here, though, is a better Nothing product than Nothing’s last one.
The post Nothing killed the Glyph Interface. This Teenage Engineering synth concept argues that was a mistake first appeared on Yanko Design.
ZHA has collaborated with Spanish design brand Nagami to create the Echo Chair, a 3D-printed seat made from recycled plastic waste. Formerly known as Zaha Hadid Architects, the studio developed the chair through parametric design and large-scale additive manufacturing. Its form is fluid and sculptural, with an arched backrest that extends towards the floor and a seat that curves upwards at the sides.
The two parts look separate at first, but they are printed as one continuous piece. Both surfaces grow from the same structural edge and share the same underlying geometry. One becomes the seat, while the other rises to form the backrest and support.
This continuous construction gives the chair a clear sense of logic. The shape is doing several jobs at once: supporting the body, holding the structure together, and defining the overall visual character.
The Echo Chair was developed through an iterative research process at ZHA Lab and manufactured by Nagami, a brand known for its work in large-format 3D printing. The studios used recycled PETG sourced from industrial waste, including single-use medical plastics.
As the chair is printed layer by layer, the process leaves a ribbed texture across its surface. Those lines have been kept visible rather than hidden or polished away. That decision gives the chair much of its character. The texture follows the curves closely and makes the manufacturing process easy to read. It also gives the recycled plastic a more tactile, less generic appearance.
There is something useful in that honesty. The material is not being forced to look like timber, stone or metal. It keeps the visual qualities created by the printing process and uses them as part of the design. The surface does still reference natural materials in a subtle way. Its layered finish recalls mineral formations and carved stone, which helps the chair feel less industrial when placed in an interior.
ZHA and Nagami developed four colourways for the chair: white, black, a white-to-translucent gradient and a caramel tone made using a bio-based cork composite. The colour choices help shift the mood of the design. White makes the form feel lighter and more architectural, while black gives it a stronger, more graphic presence. The translucent version draws attention to the printing layers, and the caramel finish adds warmth to what could otherwise feel like a very technical object.
The caramel version is especially successful because it softens the synthetic quality of the plastic. It feels easier to imagine in a home, hotel lobby or lounge space, rather than only in a gallery or design exhibition. According to ZHA project design director Sebastian Andia, the goal was to turn an abundant and overlooked material into something people would genuinely want to live with. That idea matters because recycled material alone is rarely enough to make a product successful. People still need to like the object, find it comfortable and see a place for it in their environment.
The Echo Chair handles this well. Its sustainable story supports the design, rather than becoming the whole design. The seat’s raised sides create a more enclosed sitting position, while the curved backrest gives the chair a supportive and almost cocooned feel. The shape is expressive, but it still looks usable. Its scale and neutral colour options also make it easier to place than the form might suggest. It has enough presence to work as a statement piece, yet it does not depend on bright colour or decoration to stand out.
The 3D-printing process allows the chair to be produced without visible joints or separate components. This gives it a seamless appearance and keeps the connection between the digital model and final object very direct.
That connection is one of the strongest parts of the project. The manufacturing process does not sit behind the design. It shapes the design. The ribs, curves and continuous structure all come from the same production method. Each part of the chair feels related because it has been developed through the same system.
The Echo Chair continues ZHA and Nagami’s existing collaboration. Nagami launched its first collection of 3D-printed chairs in 2018, which included two designs by the architecture studio. Their latest project shows how much more refined large-scale 3D printing has become. The chair feels less like a technical experiment and more like a finished product with a clear place in contemporary interiors.
The Echo Chair is currently on display as part of London Creates at The Truman Brewery. What makes the chair interesting is the way it brings together material, form and manufacturing without overcomplicating the idea. Recycled plastic is treated as a starting point for the design, rather than something that needs to be disguised.
The post The Echo Chair Makes 3D Printing Feel Refined first appeared on Yanko Design.
If you ever took a drawing class, you have met this face. Art schools spent about two centuries buying plaster casts of David’s head and parking them on shelves so students could sit there for six hours learning to render a nostril. The Victoria and Albert Museum owns a full size cast of the whole statue, and famously kept a plaster fig leaf on standby in case Queen Victoria dropped by and needed the shock absorbed. So David has been getting copied, shrunk, cast, and occasionally censored for a very long time. Turning him into a toy is not the sacrilege it sounds like. It’s basically the family business.
Which brings us to Ysien, a LEGO Ideas builder who decided the next material in that lineage should be ABS plastic. The build renders David’s head, neck, shoulders and upper chest as a classical bust, entirely in white, sitting on a proper stepped pedestal. No color, no minifigure, no cheeky accessories. Just light and shadow doing all the work, exactly like the plaster casts it descends from.
Designer: Ysien
The hair is the whole reason this MOC (My Own Creation) works. Hair is where sculptors get found out, because faces have anatomy underneath that you can reason your way through, while hair is a mass of overlapping nothing that somehow has to read as soft. Michelangelo’s answer was a tangle of deep drilled curls. Ysien’s answer is a genuinely absurd stack of curved slopes and half arch elements layered at varying depths, so each curl throws its own little shadow instead of flattening into texture. “The hair was one of the greatest challenges, with each curl contributing to the overall silhouette, depth, rhythm, and movement,” he says, which is a very polite way of describing what must have been several evenings of quiet suffering.
My favorite decision, though, is that the seams stay visible. Ysien could have chased a smooth marble finish and lost, because bricks do not do smooth. Instead he let the geometry become part of the sculpture, so the thing reads as a portrait from across the room and as unmistakable LEGO up close. The eyes get a similar treatment, built from inverted round elements that give David that vacant classical stare, which is a nice accident given the real statue has heart shaped pupils drilled into it. Monochrome white does the rest, forcing every bit of the anatomy to be described by shadow alone. There’s no piece count listed yet, although I wouldn’t be surprised if it was in the high hundreds.
Ysien’s David is currently sitting at just over 400 supporters with 424 days on the clock, which means there is a long road to the 10,000 votes that trigger an official LEGO review. LEGO Ideas is where fan builds get their shot at becoming retail sets, and this one deserves a look. The only thing I’d add is a black variant, because a basalt David would be an absolute menace on a shelf. You can head to the LEGO Ideas page and cast your vote!
The post Michelangelo’s iconic David bust gets recreated in LEGO, turning plastic into sculpted marble first appeared on Yanko Design.
The humble pen is one of the most perfectly designed objects in everyday human history. It’s a simple, durable, pocket-friendly cylinder that most of us carry without a second thought, right up until the moment we actually need it. Its form is so familiar that we rarely stop to question its potential as anything other than a writing instrument. But what if the pen’s silhouette was actually the perfect chassis for something far more ambitious? What if its main job wasn’t to record problems, but to solve them?
TiMate, the Redwood City-based EDC team behind the BoltLite and CoreLite, spent three design generations building toward exactly this: a Grade 5 titanium pen organized around a four-step repair workflow of illuminating, marking, cutting, and repairing. The body is CNC-machined, IPX-8 waterproof, and houses a detachable flashlight, a three-slot magnetic toolbox, a dual-tip marking system, and a utility blade, all in a 60-gram, 5.31-inch frame. The VeroLite also writes. That’s almost a punchline. But genuinely, it writes well.
Designer: TiMate
Click Here to Buy Now: $85 $119 (30% off) Hurry! Only 69 of 100 units left.
The flashlight module runs a Cree XPG4 LED at a neutral 5000K color temperature with 70+ CRI, which is the difference between reading a wire’s color accurately and just guessing. Three modes cover the range: 9 lumens for close inspection, 150 lumens for repairs and outdoor use, and a strobe for emergencies. IPX-8 waterproof, it charges over USB-C in 40 minutes, running 12 hours on low from a 100mAh lithium cell. The module detaches completely from the pen body via a magnetic joint rated at 3.8 kilograms, redesigned after users flagged the earlier version as too loose. Clip it standalone to a carabiner, rotate the dual-direction clip to aim the beam, or separate it so both hands are free for the repair.
Previous TiMate pens dedicated this midsection to a fixed blade; the VeroLite converts it into a three-slot magnetic platform for standard 4mm screwdriver bits. The compartment is sealed, waterproof, and ships with a Y3, PH2, and PZ1 set. Any standard 4mm bit fits, so your existing collection is already compatible. Three working modes follow: quick-fix with a bare bit in hand, full precision with the pen body as a handle, and two-handed work with the flashlight detached and aimed. Swapping bits is fast.
A single twist of the gear-textured tip selector switches between a graphite core and a tungsten carbide scribe. The graphite is rated for 10 miles of writing, needs no ink or refills, and will outlast the pen in most people’s hands. The tungsten carbide scribe marks metal, ceramic, glass, and stone cleanly and permanently, surfaces where a marker would just skid. One twist separates a quick note from a precise cut line on tile, without looking down. The tactile texture means you can switch mid-repair without losing your grip.
The utility blade is a 1/6-inch chrome steel cutter that loads into the magnetic storage like any other bit, making blade swaps meaningfully safer than a standard box cutter. On a traditional utility knife, the swap puts your fingertips millimeters from the fresh edge; on the VeroLite, the blade handles identically to a screwdriver bit. The clip end functions as a pry tool for paint cans, stuck lids, and loose nails. The tungsten carbide tip doubles as an automotive side-window breaker, so the same tool scribing tile in the morning can shatter a car window later. TiMate calls it a pocket repair station, and the label earns itself.
The body is CNC-machined Grade 5 titanium, 134.9mm long and 14.6mm wide, available in Titanium Gray (sandblasted matte) and Tactical Black (PVD-coated, scratch-resistant). At 60 grams, it’s 15% lighter than the CoreLite, a change driven directly by user feedback about hand fatigue. A recessed contour at the grip zone gives your fingers a natural landing spot, so it feels like a tool rather than a tube. Both finishes share the same machining process, so structural quality is identical. A leather sleeve option swaps the clip for a cleaner desk-carry profile.
The VeroLite retails at $119 and is currently available at a discounted $85 for a single unit. Add-ons include a 20-piece alloy bit set, extra graphite and tungsten tips, replacement blades, a stainless steel necklace for neck carry, and a leather pouch. A Leatherman Skeletool costs around $90 with seven tools, but lacks an integrated light, a marking system, or modular storage. TiMate’s argument is simple discipline: fewer tools, all of which you’ll actually use, organized around a clear workflow. If you’ve ever wished your pen could fix the problem you’re staring at, this one finally does.
Click Here to Buy Now: $85 $119 (30% off) Hurry! Only 69 of 100 units left.
The post This 60g Titanium Pen Doubles as a Pocket Repair Station With a Detachable Flashlight and 3-Slot Toolbox first appeared on Yanko Design.
There is something inherently temporary about jello. It trembles, folds, and gives way under the slightest pressure. Balloon sculptures behave much the same way, holding their shape only until the air begins to escape. MAJU’s Jello Lamp takes these fleeting forms and gives them permanence.
Designed by Hyu Lim, the sculptural table light translates the soft wobble of gelatin desserts and the inflated curves of balloon animals into a 3D-printed object. The result is playful without becoming novelty-driven, balancing generous proportions and rounded edges with the visual precision of digital fabrication. The lamp’s form is built around repetition. A fluted shade expands outward in soft, scalloped volumes, while the base continues the same inflated geometry below. Together, the two elements create a silhouette that appears almost compressible, despite being printed as a rigid, continuous body.
Designer: MAJU
That tension gives the lamp much of its character. Its shape suggests movement, softness and instability, while its construction fixes those qualities in place. MAJU uses one of the most controlled contemporary production methods to capture something loose and unpredictable. When illuminated, the object begins to soften again. Light passes through the translucent shade, diffusing into a warm 2700K glow that gathers along the ridged surface. The flutes become less defined, and the lamp takes on a fluid, almost edible quality.
It is here that the Jello Lamp moves beyond a visual reference. Rather than simply resembling a moulded dessert, it recreates its translucency and sense of suspended volume. The light source becomes part of the form, turning the lamp into an illuminated sculpture rather than a fixture with a decorative shade. Each piece is 3D printed to order in MAJU’s workshops in California and Singapore using plant-based, biodegradable PLA. The process allows the studio to produce the lamp’s curved geometry without conventional moulds, while also reducing excess inventory and material waste.
The visible texture of additive manufacturing is not concealed. Fine printed ridges run across the surface, catching light and revealing how the object was made. Instead of disrupting its softness, they add another layer of detail, sitting somewhere between the grooves of a dessert mould and the traces of a machine-built object.
The lamp is also designed as a modular system. Its shade and base can be replaced or upgraded independently, extending the life of the object rather than treating it as a sealed product. An integrated cord organiser is built into the base, keeping the cable from interrupting the lamp’s compact silhouette. Measuring 9.5 × 9.5 × 12.25 inches and weighing approximately half a pound, the Jello Lamp is light enough to move easily through domestic spaces. Its 2.9W bulb is intended to produce ambient illumination, positioning it as a quiet atmospheric object rather than a primary source of light.
Shown in Cottage Core Pink, the design leans into its confectionery associations. The colour, rounded profile and luminous surface recall something sweet and familiar, while the printed construction keeps the object rooted in contemporary production.
The Jello Lamp forms part of MAJU’s broader collection of plant-based home objects, shaped by the studio’s position between Singapore and California and by a combination of Eastern and Western design influences. Its most compelling quality, however, lies in a simpler contradiction. The lamp gives durability to forms that are usually defined by their impermanence. A balloon loses air. Jello collapses. Here, their softness is held in place, glowing quietly on a table.
The post This Glowing Jello Table Lamp Balances Softness and Structure first appeared on Yanko Design.
Every kid who grew up watching cars turn into robots has a soft spot for things that are not what they seem. Musician and maker Mattias Krantz never quite grew out of that phase, except instead of turning a truck into Optimus Prime, he set his sights on something smaller and arguably harder to pull off without CGI. He wanted a ukulele that could become a full size guitar on command, without falling apart in his hands. That meant solving three problems at once: growing the neck by roughly ten inches, keeping the strings in tune through that change, and expanding the body into a real guitar shape instead of a symmetrical blob. Each one turned out to be its own small nightmare.
The motivation was refreshingly petty. Ukulele players get less respect than guitar players no matter how good they get, and Krantz wanted to flip that on its head. Getting there took months of failed prototypes and a collaboration with mechanical engineer Adam Damato, who stepped in once the physics of a growing, string bearing neck got too gnarly to solve alone. What began as a joke became a real feat of mechanical design, borrowing tricks from telescoping tools, fishing reels, and an obscure folk instrument. By the end, the ukulele fit in a backpack and unfolded into a stage ready guitar in seconds.
Designers: Mattias Krantz, Adam Damato
The neck telescopes straight out of the ukulele’s tiny frame, sliding one section into the next until it locks at full guitar length, gaining roughly ten inches without ever detaching from the body. A steel core runs through the sliding sections, and the joints are cut so they interlock and brace against each other the instant the neck reaches full extension. That bracing is what lets it survive eighty pounds of string tension without bowing like a fishing rod. Getting there took two failed attempts first. A folding neck, borrowed from an old instrument called the cithara orbo, worked fine on a full size guitar but was useless on a ukulele, since half a neck sat exactly where a hand needed to grip. The telescoping version solved the length problem right away, but only stopped bending once Damato worked in the steel core and reinforced joints.
The strings are custom made, roughly twice the length of a normal set, and thread onto strategically placed rollers hidden inside the neck and body. Pull the neck out and the rollers feed slack forward, push it back in and they wind the excess back up, so the same six strings carry the instrument through both tunings without coming off. That roller system only exists because everything simpler failed first. Rubber bands solved the stretch problem but sounded worse than the ukulele they replaced. A fishing reel style rig using rope worked until the rope itself stretched, turning every transformation into tuning roulette, and swapping in non stretch rope traded that for a rope that kept snapping, once badly enough to take the guitar apart. Custom strings, ordered special and worth a twenty day wait, were the fix that finally held.
The body expands through six independently moving panels that fan outward from the ukulele’s compact shell, each one traveling a different distance and angle so the outline settles into a real guitar’s curves instead of a bloated circle. An early version of that mechanism grew symmetrically in every direction, fine for something like a banjo but wrong for an instrument with a pinched waist. Getting six panels to move independently instead of in lockstep turned one mechanical problem into six. The first panel alone took three attempts before it worked reliably, and even then only about ninety percent of the time. Adding the rest of the panels made things worse, since a hub inside was quietly blocking outward movement and jamming the whole assembly. Swapping plastic components for metal fixed it, and two days assembling hundreds of parts produced a body that finally held its shape.
None of this would matter if the transformation felt gimmicky in person, but the reception says otherwise. Onlookers at Krantz’s street performances wrote it off as just another ukulele until it unfolded mid song and changed their opinion of him. A band let him bring it on stage, and the transformation held together well enough to draw applause rather than confusion. Transforming gadgets are nothing new, but the engineering here, steel joints, custom rollers, six moving panels, earns real attention over a gimmick label. Krantz and Damato spent months on problems most builders would abandon, and the payoff works under tension, every time.
The post 3D-Printed Ukulele Transforms Into an Electric Guitar In Just 2 Seconds first appeared on Yanko Design.
En 2021, Mozilla a estimé que le mode compact de Firefox intéressait trop peu de monde pour mériter sa place dans l'interface. Le bug qui actait sa suppression a énervé pas mal de monde, mais la justification à l'époque, c'était que cette densité est "difficile à découvrir, et on suppose qu'elle est peu utilisée".
Faut dire que ce mode compact réduit sacrément l'espacement des barres d'outils et des onglets pour gagner de la place à l'écran. Mozilla le destine explicitement aux petits écrans.
Mais devant la levée de boucliers, Mozilla a dû faire machine arrière mais à moitié ^^. En avril 2021, un second bug acte le compromis : ceux qui utilisaient déjà le mode compact le gardent, les autres doivent aller l'activer à la main dans about:config via browser.compactmode.show.
Puis au bout d'un moment dans le menu de personnalisation, l'option réapparaît en juin 2021 dans Firefox 89 sous le doux nom de "Compact (not supported)". C'est la version qui embarquait la refonte Proton dont je vous parlais à l'époque .
Nous sommes 5 ans plus tard, et Mozilla remet le couvert avec le mode compact ! En effet, le nouveau design de Firefox est arrivé aujourd'hui dans Nightly, et ce mode compact fait partie du package. "Les gens nous ont dit que ça leur manquait, et on les a écoutés", explique l'équipe.
Sauf que ce n'est pas exactement un retour à la case départ. Dans le code de Nightly 155, le mode compact ne revient pas dans le menu de personnalisation. En réalité, il déménage dans les réglages, sous une rubrique "Window density" qui propose Automatique, Standard, Compact et Tactile.
Mais surtout Firefox sait maintenant basculer en compact tout seul. C'est une préférence fraîchement débarquée, browser.compactmode.auto.threshold, qui fixe le déclencheur à 0.05. Cela veut dire que si la barre d'onglets s'apprête à bouffer plus de 5 % de la hauteur de votre fenêtre, le navigateur passe en densité réduite sans rien vous demander.
Même logique sur la largeur avec la barre latérale repliée avec un garde-fou plutôt propre qui fait que si un utilisateur a choisi lui-même une densité, il ne se fait jamais écraser son réglage.
Le reste de la refonte, baptisée Project Nova en interne , n'est pas mal non plus. Les onglets prennent une forme plus douce avec un léger dégradé sur l'onglet actif, la palette s'inspire du feu avec des violets fumés, et les icônes sont redessinées pour tenir la route en thème clair comme en sombre. Mozilla a d'ailleurs publié les teintes avec leurs codes, du Cream #FFF4EE au Midnight Purple #210340.
Les réglages sont réorganisés au passage, avec une entrée dédiée aux contrôles IA pour couper entièrement ces fonctions, et un réglage du niveau de protection contre le pistage. Mozilla annonce aussi 9 % de gain sur les temps de chargement du contenu principal des pages sur un an.
Bon voilà, ce que je peux vous dire, c'est que comme d'habitude, avec Firefox, les gens vont encore gueuler pour rien. En 2014, la refonte Australis avait provoqué le même genre de problème, au point qu' une extension entière avait été codée pour restaurer l'ancienne apparence .
La différence, cette fois, c'est que Mozilla range la personnalisation du côté des réglages officiels au lieu de la laisser aux extensions et à about:config.
Pour voir tout ça, il vous faut la version Nightly et rien d'autre. Dans le code source, la préférence globale browser.nova.enabled n'est activée que sur les builds Nightly, elle reste à false partout ailleurs. Le déploiement large est annoncé pour cette année, sans date. En attendant, la branche stable continue d'avancer de son côté avec
les conteneurs natifs arrivés dans Firefox 153
.
Insta360 built its reputation on cameras that see in every direction at once. It’s literally in their name. The X series made 360-degree capture accessible; the Luna Ultra brought Leica optics to a handheld gimbal. Flying something, though, is a different category of challenge, and the patent images that appeared in July 2026 show the company working through what a foldable drone looks like with Insta360 DNA. The illustrated design at the bottom shows folding arms, a ring-shaped propeller guard, and a dedicated locking mechanism, a form factor that prioritizes the moment of packing away just as much as the moment of takeoff.
DJI’s Neo 2 has the casual drone segment largely to itself in the sub-250g category, with a rigid one-piece frame and a 19-minute flight time that have made it a reliable default for creators who want aerial footage without the complexity of a serious drone setup. Insta360 entering that space would break what has effectively been a two-player market, with Zero Zero Robotics’ HoverAir as the only real alternative. The folding design alone gives Insta360 a structural argument against the Neo 2; a potential 360-degree camera, if it materializes, would give it a creative one. What a wonderful year for foldables, eh? We’re expecting a folding iPhone in September, and Insta360 might give us a folding drone too!
This isn’t just some forum rumor, either. The patent images (from patent file CN223865117U), which started making the rounds on July 16th and were highlighted by outlets like Tech Court, are pretty specific. They show a drone body with the “Insta360” logo stamped on it, with fully folding arms that tuck into the chassis and a distinctive ring-shaped guard protecting the propellers. There’s even a dedicated locking mechanism detailed, which tells you just how seriously they’re taking the whole “fold-and-go” concept. This is a design that screams it was made to be stuffed into a pocket, not carefully placed in a bespoke case.
But here’s the thing: this isn’t Insta360’s first aerial rodeo. Before they decided to put their own name on a drone, they sent in a scout team under the sub-brand Antigravity. The A1 drone they launched was, frankly, a bit of a monster: a sub-249g drone with a wild dual-lens setup that shot 8K 360-degree video and made the drone itself invisible in the footage. It was a spec-sheet beast and a clear shot across DJI’s bow, proving Insta360 had the engineering chops to compete in the sky. It was their way of testing the waters.
Now, it looks like they’re done testing. This new patent is the second, more direct shot. And here’s the kicker: for a company obsessed with 360-degree video, the patent images don’t show a fisheye lens. At all. It’s a huge question mark hanging over the whole project. Are they hiding the tech, or are they planning to launch a drone that, for the first time, doesn’t have their signature feature? If they’re aiming for a rumored sub-$200 price point, leaving the 360 camera on the cutting room floor might be the only way to get there. It’s a move that would be both shocking and, in a weird way, perfectly logical.
You also can’t forget that this is all happening while the two companies are actively suing each other in China. This isn’t friendly competition; it’s a full-blown hardware rivalry. Insta360 came for DJI’s gimbals, tested the drone market with a sub-brand, and is now preparing a direct assault on DJI’s most accessible drone. With a release window expected somewhere between late 2026 and early 2027, we’re not just watching a new product being born. We’re watching the next chapter in a tech soap opera, and it’s about to get very, very interesting.
The post Insta360’s foldable drone patent targets DJI Neo 2 at sub-250g first appeared on Yanko Design.
Fill a Stanley tumbler with a yogurt-based smoothie from bottom to top and you actually end up getting an arm workout. A 40oz Stanley cup can weigh close to 4lbs or upwards of 1.5 kilograms if filled to the brim with something dense like a smoothie or a thick latte. Jane Morelli just decided that if she was gonna give her arms a workout, why simultaneously rely on ugly looking kettlebells? Morelli superimposed Stanley’s design language onto kettlebells and the result looks just gorgeous.
Every gym equipment I’ve used has looked boringly functional. The kettlebells at my gym come in bright colors, but that’s just a color-code so you know the difference between a lighter and a heavier kettlebell even if the number on it wears off (it almost always does). Morelli’s design merely bridges two worlds together, and I won’t lie – the results look like the most seamless collab ever imagined. My only gripe is, I wish these kettlebells were actually tumblers too!
Designer: Emanuele Jane Morelli
Haute gym equipment might not be a category but these kettlebells definitely make a case for it. Each one is styled with chic curves, and a color palette I’d only expect from companies like Hermès or Stanley. Subtle pastel shades, punctuated by just one hot pink color for the yoga-moms who need their gym equipment to be as flashy as their gym outfits. Each kettlebell has a lacquer-like sheen on it, along with the Stanley logo emblazoned on the front, larger than the weight units below it because that’s what matters more. The style statement.
I get that I can sound a little ironic, but I’m all for brand crossovers. (The only time I really object is when Tesla does stuff like manufacturing vodka or whistles because they seem to be obsessed with side quests and not really making any cars). This one piques my fancy because Stanley isn’t just a social statement, it’s perfect for fitness-freaks too who love chugging protein shakes from their 30-40oz cups, or sharing Strava stats superimposed against their Stanley cups just to paint a picture of how much ‘aura’ they have.
Morelli’s done a pretty remarkable job of simply yet effectively distilling Stanley’s brand language onto a piece of gym equipment, without necessarily caricaturing the Stanley cup’s silhouette. The kettlebells have a separate, distinct character, and the dual-band colors on each individual kettlebell represents a palette that feels distinctly high-fashion yet accessible. Quite like the company’s big, beautiful, nearly indestructible tumblers.
The post Stanley doesn’t make gym equipment… but this stylish kettlebell proves it should first appeared on Yanko Design.
Every morning, millions of people brew their coffee, toss the grounds, and move on. It’s such a routine act of disposal that few of us stop to think about where all that spent coffee actually goes. MOFT apparently did think about it, and the result is one of the more genuinely interesting design stories to come out of the tech accessories space in recent memory.
The MOFT MOVAS-E Coffee Collection is a new line of accessories built from a bio-based leather crafted from recycled coffee grounds. MOFT combined spent coffee grounds with waterborne bio-based polyurethane to create what they’re calling a new generation of bio-based leather. The material replaces both conventional leather and traditional synthetic alternatives, which makes the origin story feel less like a marketing angle and more like an actual shift in how the brand approaches materials.
Designer: MOFT
MOFT has already built a strong reputation for thoughtful material choices. Their MOVAS vegan leather line has been a staple in the premium accessories space for a while now, known for that soft, slightly textured finish that feels surprisingly luxurious on a phone MagSafe stand. The MOVAS-E Coffee Collection takes that established foundation and adds a genuine layer of purpose to it, pushing the material story well beyond aesthetics and into something more intentional.
The collection includes products like a laptop Carry Sleeve, all finished in warm, coffee-toned colorways that look like they were pulled straight from a specialty café mood board. The tones are earthy and rich without veering into something overly minimal or clinical. If you’ve ever wished your tech accessories matched the aesthetic of a beautifully lit coffee shop corner, MOFT seems to have designed this one with exactly that feeling in mind. The tagline for the collection is “Brewed for Flow,” and it’s hard to argue with that framing.
The packaging is also part of the story. MOFT went with a frosted, minimalist design they describe as food-safe, durable, and fully recyclable. It’s the kind of packaging decision that often goes unnoticed by most buyers, but it signals that the sustainability angle here isn’t just surface-level. When a brand puts the same thought into the box as the product inside, that’s usually a sign the commitment runs deeper than a trend cycle.
I’ll be honest: the sustainable materials conversation in tech accessories can feel exhausting. Every other brand is slapping the word “eco” on something and calling it a revolution. MOFT’s approach feels different, not because they’ve reinvented the wheel, but because the product doesn’t sacrifice anything to get there. The MOVAS-E Coffee Bio-Leather still delivers the same premium tactile quality that made their original MOVAS line popular. It’s stain-resistant, smooth, and has that matte finish that photographs well without ever looking cheap. The material carries its origins gracefully.
The timing of this collection feels culturally right, too. Coffee has become more than a beverage. It’s an aesthetic, a lifestyle marker, a ritual that people build their mornings around. The idea that your phone stand or laptop sleeve could be a physical extension of that daily ritual is a small but clever act of brand storytelling. It doesn’t feel forced. It feels like a natural fit for the kind of person who already gravitates toward MOFT: someone who pays attention to the things they carry.
Whether or not bio-based leather made from coffee grounds becomes a broader standard for tech accessories, MOFT is asking the right questions here. What do we do with the waste streams already woven into our daily lives? How do we make sustainable choices feel desirable rather than merely dutiful? The MOVAS-E Coffee Collection doesn’t answer everything, but it’s a compelling and well-designed start.
If you’ve been looking for a reason to upgrade your tech carry, this collection offers one that goes a little deeper than color options. It’s the kind of purchase that earns a second look, and a story that’s surprisingly easy to tell when someone asks where you got your case.
The post Your Phone and Laptop Stand Could Be Made From Recycled Coffee Grounds first appeared on Yanko Design.
The last debate you expected to find at the heart of a design story was a surfing one, but here we are. For years, the surf community has been at odds over something surprisingly technical: should surfboards be measured in volume, using litres? It sounds like a niche argument, but for shapers and surfers, the stakes are genuinely real. Leave it to an Australian brewery to turn that argument into one of the most interesting design objects of the year.
Gage Roads Brew Co. partnered with legendary board shaper Chris Garrett of Phantom Surfboards to create the Beerboard, a custom single-fin surfboard built with a sealed internal chamber capable of holding 10 litres of Gage Roads Summer Ale Single Fin. Yes, it actually surfs. And yes, it actually pours beer. That’s the whole glorious point.
Designer: Chris Garrett with Gage Roads Brew Co
The concept itself is brilliantly simple, but the execution was anything but. The engineering challenge of making a surfboard capable of storing pressurised beer without leaking, or worse, imploding mid-session, required serious work. Garrett’s decades of experience as a shaper came into play here in ways that go well beyond surface aesthetics. He’s been crafting boards since 1979, and Phantom Surfboards has been his life’s work since 1984. Designing the Beerboard meant rethinking the interior construction entirely, embedding a food-safe chamber that could handle pressurisation while preserving the board’s hydrodynamics. The build process reportedly came with a few explosions along the way, which is either alarming or just the most Australian development story imaginable.
The board draws inspiration from the iconic Greenough Spoon, a shape dating back to the 1960s. Choosing that reference wasn’t accidental. The Spoon was itself a radical rethink of what a surfboard could be, and the Beerboard follows directly in that spirit. It doesn’t look like a novelty item. It looks like a real board, clean and purposeful, and that restraint is exactly where the design succeeds. A gimmick slapped together for a social media moment would have felt cheap. This doesn’t feel cheap at all.
Once the board was finished, Gage Roads called in Olympic surfing medalist and part-owner Jack Robinson alongside legendary free surfer Brendan “Margo” Margieson for sea trials. The fact that professional surfers actually took it into the ocean, rode it, and then presumably poured a cold one from it afterward is a key part of why the Beerboard registers as more than a marketing stunt. It works, both as a surfboard and as a beer dispenser. That functional integrity is what elevates the whole project.
Is the Beerboard a practical product? Not remotely. You’re not about to wax this thing down and paddle out for your morning session while worrying about keeping your lager cold. But practicality is the wrong lens here entirely. The most interesting design objects rarely exist to solve a purely utilitarian problem. They exist to reframe one. The Beerboard reframes the entire surfboard volume debate by making it physical and playful, by literally filling a surfboard with the very unit of measurement causing all the fuss. It’s design as commentary, and it genuinely lands.
It also matters who made this. Chris Garrett isn’t an ad agency prop designer. He’s a craftsman with nearly 50 years in the industry, someone whose boards have been trusted by some of the world’s top surfers across decades. Bringing his expertise to a project like this gives the Beerboard a credibility it wouldn’t have had otherwise. It’s the difference between a concept and a creation.
I’ve seen plenty of branded design collaborations that felt hollow or performative, where the “design” was really just a logo slapped on a limited-edition container. The Beerboard isn’t that. It required genuine engineering, real craft expertise, and the confidence to commit fully to a ridiculous idea until it became a remarkable one. That, I think, is what good design actually looks like. Sometimes it just happens to come with a tap.
The post Gage Roads Just Turned a Surfboard Into a Beer Tap first appeared on Yanko Design.
Health apps and wearables have become remarkably precise at reading the human body. They can tell you how restorative last night’s sleep was, how stressed your body was during a presentation, and whether your recovery is on track after a hard week. What most of them don’t do, at least not in any concrete way, is hand you a tool to act on what they’ve just told you.
That’s the gap MobiFren founder and CEO Juwon Heo set out to address with the HealingFit TWS, a true wireless earbud built to go beyond standard listening. It earned a CES 2026 Innovation Awards recognition in Headphones and Personal Audio, but the more compelling aspect isn’t the accolade. It’s the design thinking underneath it, and what that thinking could mean for the broader world of digital health.
Designer: Juwon Heo, Founder & CEO, MobiFren
Click Here to Buy Now: $169 $300 (44% off). Hurry, only 11/290 left! Raised over $67,000.
During normal use, HealingFit TWS functions as a premium pair of true wireless earbuds with Bluetooth 6.0, Hybrid ANC, and five tunable sound modes built on MobiFren’s own MSTS sound tuning system. The shift into wellness mode happens when you attach the Magnetic TES Link, a cable that snaps magnetically onto both earbuds. There’s no separate gadget involved, and no new category of hardware to carry.
TES, or Transcranial Electrical Stimulation, is a non-invasive approach widely studied in neuroscience. HealingFit TWS translates it into a controllable daily routine, running calibrated microcurrents through skin-contact electrodes built into each earbud. The intensity is adjustable across 15 levels, and most people describe the sensation as a subtle, rhythmic pulse. It’s designed to support the nervous system’s natural shift toward rest or focus, not force it there.
Three wellness modes organize the experience. Sleep is the bedtime routine, pairing TES with binaural audio tracks to help you gradually settle for the night. Healing is a shorter session for mid-afternoon or post-work moments when the day has felt relentless. Study is a focus-priming routine to run before anything demanding real concentration. Each mode comes with five dedicated tracks, though you can also layer TES over your own music.
That three-mode framework reads differently from the perspective of a digital health platform. Platforms like Samsung Health, Apple Health, Google Health, and Fitbit have become genuinely capable at detecting sleep quality, stress levels, recovery readiness, and daily activity. They generate scores, flag patterns, and surface recommendations. What they don’t typically offer is a connected, device-level way to act on those signals in the moment they appear.
HealingFit TWS addresses that with an open Bluetooth LE interface that developers and platform teams can connect to without a licensing fee or a proprietary SDK. The technical entry point is UUID 0xBE00, and documentation is publicly available through mobifrenglobal.com. The intent is clear: the earbud becomes the intervention hardware, while the app or platform provides the health context that determines when and which session a user might benefit from.
Think about what that could look like in practice. A sleep app detecting elevated pre-bed stress could suggest a Sleep session. A recovery platform flagging low readiness after a demanding training week could prompt a Healing routine. A focus tool that spots declining concentration before a deadline could surface the Study mode. In each case, the platform has done its analysis. HealingFit TWS handles what comes after.
The core architecture places a TES-generating circuit inside one earbud, with electrodes on the front of each earbud that contact the ear canal, and a TES Link cable that connects both earbuds. Detached, it functions as flagship-grade wireless earbuds; connected, it transforms into a wellness device designed to support sleep, stress relief, focus, and memory.
What makes the TES architecture appealing to hardware teams isn’t just the open API. The circuit that generates TES signals relies on entirely standard, commercially available components, totaling just 18 parts: a dual-transistor chip, one FET, and a set of RLC components. The earbud’s existing charging contacts also serve as the TES link contacts, so no extra contact points or major structural changes are needed.
The design has received formal IP recognition across multiple jurisdictions. The U.S. patent application covering the core architecture has been allowed and is proceeding to registration, with the patent expected to be granted soon. There are also registered patents in Korea and Japan, as well as a published application in Europe. FCC certification was granted on July 1, 2026.
Heo founded MobiFren in February 2002, originally as a contract developer for Samsung Electronics feature phones. The company started building its own Bluetooth audio products in 2005 and brought its first Bluetooth earphones to market in 2006. MobiFren has maintained an ongoing relationship with Samsung through smartphone software verification work ever since. That two-decade grounding in Bluetooth audio is what gives HealingFit TWS its engineering footing.
The choice to build this platform on earbuds specifically is, in that context, a deliberate one. Earbuds are already the personal technology closest to the human body for most of the waking day. They’re phone-paired, habitually worn, and typically owned by the same people most likely to be using a health app. Embedding TES therapy into a device people already carry daily removes most of the adoption barrier entirely.
The hardware reflects that audio-first foundation. Alongside the TES system, HealingFit TWS delivers up to 6.5 hours of playback and up to 4.5 hours in TES mode, with Hybrid ANC, three microphones per side, and wear detection for auto-pause when an earbud is removed. Both earbuds and the Magnetic TES Link cable dock in a cylindrical charging case finished in anodized aluminum, designed to carry without fuss.
What Heo is ultimately proposing is a platform category that doesn’t quite have a name yet. His comparison is to how true wireless earbuds, from AirPods to Galaxy Buds, turned personal audio into a mainstream daily habit. The longer ambition is for this patented TES architecture to be adopted into future products from those same companies, giving their health platforms a connected hardware layer for the signals they already detect.
The more compelling case might be for the health platforms themselves. Apple Health, Google Health, Samsung Health, and Fitbit have spent years becoming sophisticated at detecting when something is off: poor sleep, elevated stress, slow recovery. What they don’t yet widely offer is a hardware path from that detection to user-controlled action. HealingFit TWS was built to be exactly that path, and it’s open to anyone willing to test it.
That’s a bold bet, and the category he’s describing doesn’t fully exist yet. But HealingFit TWS makes a credible early case for it, with a patent-allowed architecture, open developer access, and a hardware design that doesn’t ask users to change anything about how they already carry and use earbuds every day.
Click Here to Buy Now: $169 $300 (44% off). Hurry, only 11/290 left! Raised over $67,000.
The post Health Apps Know You’re Stressed, HealingFit TWS Helps You Act on It first appeared on Yanko Design.
Light moves through trees. Shadows stretch and shrink. No two afternoons ever look quite the same. Moooi wants your living room to borrow that same restlessness. In a conversation with Yanko Design, the Dutch design house laid out a vision for interiors that respond to time, mood and the people living inside them, rather than staying frozen in one fixed arrangement from the day they’re installed.
It is a strange kind of ambition for a furniture brand to have. Strange but brilliant. Moooi has spent 25 years refusing to make boring things, and its next chapter looks less like a product catalog and more like a philosophy for how homes should feel. Not smarter. Not more automated. Just more alive, in the same unpredictable way the outside world already is.
Designer: Moooi
The concept has a name, The Living Room, and it started as a simple question the brand kept circling back to. What if an interior never sat still, but moved through a day the way the world outside a window does, gradually and without announcing itself. Lighting could soften as morning turns to afternoon. Objects could shift subtly in response to who’s in the room and what they’re doing. Nothing about it reads as gimmick or gadgetry, which is deliberate, since Moooi keeps insisting this has nothing to do with sensors or automation. It reads instead like weather indoors, a mood that drifts rather than a setting you toggle. That distinction matters more than it sounds.
Atmosphere has subtly become the real product Moooi sells, and everything else follows from it. The brand says its process now starts with a single question, how do people want to feel the moment they walk in, long before anyone picks a fabric or a finish. That thinking explains why Moooi’s catalog has crept well past furniture and lighting into wallcoverings, carpets, ceramic tiles and even bespoke scent. Each addition exists to thicken the sensory layer of a room rather than decorate its surface. Building a mood board was never the goal. Building an entire world was.
Personalization is where the philosophy stops being poetic and starts getting genuinely strange, in the best sense. Moooi’s collaboration with EveryHuman uses AI to translate a person’s mood into a custom room fragrance, treating scent as another material a designer can shape rather than an afterthought sprayed in before guests arrive. That same instinct extends to digitally printed carpets and layered surfaces built around individual taste instead of a single house style. The brand frames this as giving creative tools to people rather than finished products, which flips the usual furniture relationship on its head. You are not buying a chair here. You are being handed the freedom to keep shaping a space as your own taste evolves.
None of this would land without Moooi’s oldest habit, which the brand still describes as an ambition to stop the boring business. That mantra showed up loudly at the brand’s 25th anniversary installation in Milan this year, a mirrored, multi sensory environment built at Superstudio Più with choreographer Yoann Bourgeois, layering light, movement and scent into something meant to be felt rather than simply viewed. Marcel Wanders has said there’s no one who walks through a Moooi installation feeling nothing, and that stubborn refusal to be neutral is the connective tissue between a 2001 startup and a 2026 AI fragrance experiment.
Where this goes next is of more consequence than where it started. Moooi has been clear that technology should function as another creative material, sitting alongside craft and color rather than steering the whole show. If The Living Room concept ever leaves the realm of installation and lands inside actual homes, it will be a genuinely different pitch than anything coming out of the smart home industry right now. Not a house that watches you. A house that keeps you company.
The post Forget Smart Homes, Moooi Is Designing Homes That Feel Alive first appeared on Yanko Design.
The iPhone Air 2 could gain a larger battery, an A20 chip, and a second camera as Apple reportedly works to improve endurance without adding bulk.
The post Apple’s iPhone Air 2 Could Get a Major Battery Upgrade appeared first on TechRepublic.
The iPhone 18 Pro Max could become thicker and heavier as Apple reportedly plans a larger battery and upgraded cooling system.
The post iPhone 18 Pro Max: New Battery May Make It Apple’s Heaviest in Years appeared first on TechRepublic.
Connexion