Limited edition

In the 21st century, I believe design can no longer be merely functional. The objects we surround ourselves with must be intelligent, responsive, and deeply human. The Plum Collection was born out of a personal desire to reimagine the role of form—not as a skin placed over function, but as a structural expression of life itself. My inspiration has never been mechanical, but biological. Like the stem of a plant or the exoskeleton of an insect, I design from the inside out. This approach—what I call organic logic—seeks strength through geometry, lightness through material efficiency, and elegance through intentional flow. The body of a dancer, the arc of a feather, the natural tension in a vine—these are the references that inform my aesthetic language. At the core of the Plum Collection is sensuality—not in a decorative sense, but as something essential. These are objects meant to be touched, to provoke curiosity, and to create a subtle dialogue between the piece and the person experiencing it. The asymmetry of the stool, the curvature of its spine, the triangulated stance of its legs—each of these is a gesture, not a feature. The design breathes, flexes, and speaks. Carbon fiber has been my primary medium—not just for its performance, but for its expressive potential. Traditionally used in aerospace and automotive design, its strength and minimal weight allow me to sculpt in ways that were once impossible. But I’ve never treated carbon fiber purely as a technical solution. For me, it's a poetic material—one that captures intention, direction, and emotion. Over time, the collection has grown, adopting new skins like bronze—adding warmth, weight, and a different kind of presence to the narrative. Plum Series 1 was the breakthrough—a monocoque form that felt grown rather than assembled. It was fluid, arresting, and structurally radical. It balanced stability and sensuality in a way that caught the attention of storytellers like M. Night Shyamalan, and innovators like BMW—not because it shouted innovation, but because it whispered evolution. With Series 2, I pushed the language further. I moved from balance to flow. The stool evolved into a three-legged form—more dynamic, more athletic—like an acrobat caught mid-air. This was more than an aesthetic decision; it was a philosophical one. The object became motion captured in stillness. The Plum Bench and Plum Table continue this evolution. These are communal forms—objects that create connection. The bench becomes a bridge: between weight and lightness, between people. The table is a dialogue between surface and support, tension and openness. Each one is an exploration of how structure can communicate purpose, and how elegance can emerge from restraint. What ties it all together is a single belief: that efficiency is the highest form of beauty.