Sustainability

Why 1.5 million kilos of wool became the start of truly sustainable furniture

Each year, around 1.5 million kilos of wool are discarded in the Netherlands. Not because it’s damaged.
Not because it lacks value. But simply because it’s inconvenient.

Dutch wool is coarse. It itches. It’s labor-intensive. It doesn’t fit the fashion industry’s craving for softness.
So it gets returned to the land—or burned. And yet, this same wool has unique qualities: strength, 
breathability, structure, and an impressive lifespan.

That contradiction became the starting point for a new kind of design.

IDA Element Sofa Loveseat at the Gerrit Rietveld House in Laren, the Netherlands.
Shown in Tosca colour Emerald. 2024.

This is sustainable furniture—not 
as a marketing trend, but as a design philosophy.

I created a lounge chair and modular sofa that begins where wool is usually rejected. Not in spite of its 
rough edges, but because of them. No foam. No synthetics. Just layers of Dutch wool—folded, not forced. 
Designed to breathe, shift and last.

The construction reflects that. No glue. No hidden skeleton. The fabric and wool are folded into themselves 
to create natural tension and strength. The backrest supports you. The seat holds you. All through the logic of the material.

And it lasts. Wool springs back into shape. Foam flattens and crumbles. Wool adapts and recovers—again and again. So the chair retains its shape, year after year. It doesn’t collapse. It evolves.

That idea extends into daily life. You don’t need to replace the wool or dry-clean the filling. If it gets wet, wash the section by hand, dry it in the sun, and return it. If you want a different look, we’ll send you a newcover 
at a reduced price—and reuse the wool inside.

IDA Element Sofa in Amsterdam, the Netherlands.
Shown in Camel 222 leather. 2024.

Because true sustainable 
furniture doesn’t end at the point 
of sale. It continues.

Most modern sofas are designed to look good briefly, then break down. Inside: chemical foam rubber—
cheap and fast to produce, but destined to fail. After a few years, comfort fades. The whole piece is replaced.

We’ve accepted that cycle. But what if we didn’t?

What if furniture could slow down consumption and still offer beauty and comfort? What if design respected 
time, material and touch?

That’s what sustainable furniture should be: resilient, future-focused, and made to last.

This isn’t nostalgia. It’s not sentiment. It’s a next-generation piece—built from undervalued resources. It doesn’t hide where it comes from. It shows it. Every fold, every fiber, every decision speaks of transformation. Waste 
into rest. Rawness into elegance.

If you’re looking for something with soul, strength, and a radically different footprint—this might be it. A lounge chair that doesn’t just fill a room, but shifts the way we think about furniture.

This is sustainable furniture. Not because it claims to be. But because it’s built that way.