Interview with Zahra Hamzelou

I did not initially become interested in design because I wanted to become a designer. It began with a very personal need.

As a literature student, I wanted something soft and comfortable where I could sit and continue reading and studying for hours. I couldn’t find exactly what I was looking for, and that led me to the idea of a beanbag.

What began as a search for comfort gradually became a much deeper interest in design. I became fascinated by the possibility of creating an object that could change the way a person experiences sitting, resting, reading, or simply spending time alone.

Today, I am motivated by that same idea: creating objects that are not only functional or visually appealing, but that create a particular feeling and experience for the person using them.

I didn’t consciously choose design at the beginning. In many ways, design found me through my work. What started as working with beanbags gradually became an interest in creating forms, solving problems and understanding how an object could affect people’s experience. At some point, I realized I was no longer simply producing furniture—I was designing it.

In a way, neither. I think I found design through necessity.

When I first had the idea of making a beanbag, there was only one manufacturer in my country at the time, and I wasn’t able to get the answers or level of information I needed from them. So I decided to make one myself.

I certainly wasn’t thinking, “I am going to become a designer.” I was simply trying to solve a problem for myself. But once I started making things, I became increasingly interested in how form, materials, proportions, and functionality could be changed and improved.

Eventually, making the product was no longer enough for me. I wanted to understand and create the design itself.

I don’t think becoming a great designer is about trying to become a “design legend.” It is about developing your own way of seeing. Learn the fundamentals, observe people carefully, question what already exists, and don’t be afraid to develop your ideas slowly. Most importantly, don’t design simply to follow what is currently popular. Find a problem, a feeling or a question that genuinely interests you and keep working on it until you have something that feels truly yours.

I think a good designer can solve a problem, but a great designer can see the problem differently.

A great designer doesn’t simply make something functional or beautiful. They question assumptions, understand people, and find a balance between function, emotion, aesthetics, and meaning.

For me, another important distinction is persistence. A design rarely becomes its best version in the first attempt. A great designer should be willing to question their own decisions, accept criticism, and keep refining the work without losing the original idea.

For me, good design begins with purpose. I ask whether the object genuinely solves something and whether its form is appropriate to that purpose.

Then I look at the relationship between function and aesthetics. A beautiful object that doesn’t work well is not good design, and a functional object that completely ignores the human experience is also incomplete.

I also ask whether the design has its own identity. If an object can be replaced by dozens of similar products without losing anything, I don’t consider that a particularly strong design.

Ultimately, I think good design should feel natural to use while still giving you something to discover in its form.

Good design affects our everyday lives, often in ways we don’t consciously notice.

We interact with furniture and objects every day, and their proportions, materials, ergonomics, and visual qualities can influence our comfort, behavior, and even our emotional experience.

For me, investing in good design isn’t necessarily about buying expensive things. It is about choosing things that have been thoughtfully designed and that genuinely improve the experience of using them.

I would continue exploring furniture centered around comfort, peace, and the human experience.

My major purpose is to help people find a sense of peace in a modern world full of noise and constant stimulation. I am particularly interested in designing for people who spend time reading, studying, thinking, or simply needing a quiet and comfortable space for themselves. That is where my own journey began.

For me, the ultimate goal of good furniture is to create a feeling of peaceful silence—not necessarily complete silence, but a moment of calm and separation from the outside world. I would like to explore how furniture can support these moments without becoming overly complicated: how a simple object can make a person feel more comfortable, relaxed, and connected to their own space.

designing a chair that allows the elderly with knee problems or back pain, and people with obesity or limited mobility, to enjoy the comfort and ergonomic support of a beanbag-style chair.

One major limitation of traditional beanbag chairs is that they can be difficult to get out of. As a result, many people who could benefit from their softness and comfort cannot use them independently.

My goal would be to rethink the chair’s structure so it remains comfortable and supportive while making it easier for users to sit down and stand up. I would explore features such as increased height, supportive contours, and a more stable internal structure without losing the relaxed experience that makes beanbag chairs appealing.

For me, this project would bring together comfort, ergonomics, accessibility, and dignity. It would be an opportunity to design not only for appearance or function, but also for people who are often excluded from certain types of furniture.

I don’t think there is a secret recipe. If I had to name one ingredient, I would say persistence.

I tend to keep questioning a design even after I have reached a version that works. I look at it again, change something, remove something, and sometimes go back to an earlier idea.

Curiosity is probably the other half of it. I don’t like accepting that something is simply “the way it is.” I want to understand why it is that way and whether it could be better.

At this stage, I would say the Cloud Beanbag Chair is the design that represents me best.

The idea began with the relationship between comfort and nature. I wanted to create something that didn’t simply imitate the appearance of a cloud, but captured some of the qualities we associate with one—softness, lightness, calmness, and a feeling of being held.

The asymmetrical backrest and armrests were developed as part of that idea rather than as purely decorative elements. I wanted the form to feel organic and less rigid than conventional seating.

What makes this design particularly important to me is that the concept, form, material, and intended emotional experience are connected. It feels like a design with its own language rather than simply another variation of a beanbag.

I think the most important quality for becoming a better designer is persistence.

The best ideas often come from personal experience and careful observation, but persistence allows those ideas to develop into something meaningful.

For me, becoming a better designer means trusting the experiences that inspire an idea while continuing to question, refine, and improve it.

I probably would have remained focused entirely on literature and academic work. My background is in English Language and Literature, and I am still pursuing my PhD, so that path has always been an important part of my life.

In fact, I don’t see design and literature as completely separate worlds. Both involve observation, interpretation, and finding meaning in human experiences.

For me, design is a way of responding to a need through thoughtful decisions about form, function, materials, and experience.

I don’t think design is only about making something look beautiful. It is about understanding why something should exist and deciding how it can exist in the best possible way.

My journey has been largely independent, but I have benefited greatly from the guidance and encouragement of Amir Ahmadinasab, whose expertise in chairs and seating design has been invaluable. He encouraged me to trust my process, remain open to learning, and not be discouraged by criticism.

Hands-on experience with real products and users has helped me most, along with learning from mistakes and continually refining ideas. I believe good design comes from curiosity, close observation, and the willingness to question and improve every decision.

I wouldn’t call myself a design master, but one of my biggest challenges has been entering design without a formal education in the field.

I had to learn many things through practice, research, experimentation, and sometimes simply by making mistakes and trying again. At times, not having a conventional design background was difficult, but it also allowed me to approach problems from a different perspective.

Designers should present both the final object and the thinking behind it, including the problem, concept, key decisions, and development process. However, the presentation should leave room for the design itself to communicate.

I am currently considering designing another beanbag chair inspired by a giant green leaf. Its form would be similar to a couch, while its shape and visual character would be based on the leaf of the Coccoloba tree.

My goal is to create objects that have a genuine reason to exist—objects that are useful, distinctive, and capable of creating a meaningful experience for the people who use them.

I would also like to develop a design language that feels genuinely my own.

I believe designers are often expected to impress people. For me, that expectation becomes less important with experience. The work does not need to prove anything about me; it needs to be meaningful and useful.

Design shapes many of the things we interact with every day, so even small decisions can influence how people live, work, move, rest, and interact with their surroundings.

I think good design can make everyday experiences more accessible, comfortable, meaningful, and sustainable. Its impact does not always have to be dramatic; sometimes improving an ordinary everyday experience is already valuable.

I am currently focused on continuing to develop my beanbag furniture and exploring how small changes in form, proportion, and construction can improve both comfort and the overall experience of the object.

The Cloud Beanbag Chair has probably given me the most satisfaction so far.

It was one of the projects where I felt that the concept, form, material, and emotional experience came together particularly well. It also gave me the opportunity to move beyond simply making a comfortable beanbag and think more deeply about what the object could communicate.

I would like to see more value placed on originality and thoughtful design processes, rather than only on trends, speed, and commercial success.

I think design will become increasingly concerned with the relationship between technology, sustainability, and human experience.

At the same time, I hope that as technology becomes more powerful, the human perspective will remain at the center of design.

There isn’t a fixed timeframe. It depends on the complexity of the idea and how much experimentation and refinement it requires.

Some designs develop relatively quickly in few weeks, while others need months before I feel that the form is right.

I usually start with a need, a problem, or an observation rather than a particular shape.

I try to understand the experience I want to create first, and then I begin exploring form, materials, proportions, and construction as possible ways of achieving it.

That’s easily “keep going”

I think it works both ways. Trends inevitably influence designers, but strong design can also create new directions rather than simply following what already exists.

Personally, I try not to let trends become the starting point of a design.

Technology is a tool that helps me explore, test, communicate, and refine ideas. But I don’t think technology should determine the idea itself; The concept and the human experience should come first.

My work is still very hands-on. I use digital tools mainly for developing and communicating ideas, while a significant part of the design process happens through sketching, physical experimentation, pattern making, and working directly with materials.

My approach is more closely connected to the workshop than to a purely digital design environment.

36. What is the role of color, materials and ambient in design?

They strongly influence how an object is perceived and experienced.

In furniture, especially in something as tactile as a beanbag, material is not simply a visual choice. Its texture, softness, weight, and behavior all contribute to the experience. Color and the surrounding environment then affect how the object feels within a space.

I don’t wish people to ask a specific question. I believe that a good design should speak for itself and communicate through the feelings it creates.

As the person behind the design, I hope the object can be experienced directly rather than explained through questions.

Usually, I become curious about the story behind it.

I want to understand what problem the designer was responding to, what decisions were made, and why the final form became what it is.

Yes, I believe in co-design, especially when different areas of knowledge can genuinely contribute to the project.

The people who use my products have probably influenced my design more than anyone else.

Their experiences, reactions, questions, and sometimes even complaints have helped me understand what works and what needs to be reconsidered. Working directly with customers has taught me things that could not have been learned only from books or theory.

I am not sure I can point to particular books that directly influenced my design. However, my way of thinking about life has been influenced by the philosophical ideas of Friedrich Nietzsche and Arthur Schopenhauer.
I think these influences have shaped the way I observe people, experiences, and the world around me, and that inevitably finds its way into how I approach design.

I wouldn’t describe myself as a master designer. I am still developing my skills.

Most of my learning has come through practice: making things, observing how they work, listening to users, researching, making mistakes, and then trying to improve the result.

I don’t have one particular person in mind. I would actually be more interested in meeting people from very different cultural backgrounds and learning about their experiences and the way they see the world.

I find it fascinating how every person carries a different version of life. Listening to their stories gives me the feeling of collecting small pieces of different lives, almost as if I have had the opportunity to live more than one life through them.

I am grateful for the recognition my work has received. Awards are encouraging because they suggest that an idea has communicated something beyond my own expectations.

At the same time, I don’t consider myself famous, and I don’t think recognition should become the reason for designing. For me, the most valuable part is still the process of making and improving the work, and experiencing myself.

My favorite color is sky blue. It reminds me of peace, silence, and calmness.

My favorite food is probably something very simple: a boiled egg, especially for breakfast. I usually boil it for exactly four and a half minutes, which gives me the soft, almost liquid yolk that I like.

To be honest, my favorite place is home. More specifically, my bedroom is where I feel most at peace. At the end of the day, I like to read a few pages of a book before going to sleep. That small routine represents peace and happiness to me.

One interesting thing I noticed while showing my Cloud Beanbag Chair to friends was that people seemed to either really like it or really dislike it. Almost nobody had a neutral reaction.

At first, I found this a little surprising, so I asked a friend about it. He told me that this is often true of art: some people connect strongly with a work, while others simply don’t.

That comment stayed with me. It made me realize that perhaps a design does not need to please everyone. If an object creates a strong response in someone, even if that response is not always positive, it means the design has managed to communicate something.

I still see myself primarily as a manufacturer who gradually found her way into design.

What makes my day is hearing from customers who are genuinely happy with something we have made for them. When they send a message or a photo with excitement and appreciation, it reminds me why all the effort behind the product matters.

That kind of response is probably my strongest motivation to keep improving.

Consciously, no. As a child, I imagined myself having an academic career or another profession that required higher education. At different times, I even imagined becoming a university professor or an astronaut.

Unconsciously, perhaps there were some signs. I was always making or rearranging things. I enjoyed creating small decorative objects and finding new ways to use things around the house.

I remember once painting some fruit from a pine tree and arranging them in a crystal bowl to create a decorative piece for our home. I remember being genuinely proud of how beautiful I thought it looked.

So I certainly wasn’t thinking about becoming a designer, but looking back, I can see that the impulse to make, arrange, and transform things was already there.

I imagine that life will become easier in many practical ways. When I consider how much our lives have changed compared with those of previous generations, it seems likely that this progress will continue.

In a thousand years, people may have access to technologies, facilities, materials, and tools that are difficult for us to imagine today. I hope design will help make these advances more accessible and improve the quality of everyday life.

Truthfully, I have no clear idea what the world will actually look like then. That uncertainty is part of what makes the future so interesting.

I don’t really think about what I want people to think of me, and I don’t design with the intention of creating a particular image of myself.

What I do care about is how people feel when they interact with something I have made. If one of my designs can give someone a moment of comfort, calm, or peace in the middle of a busy day, that means much more to me than being perceived in a certain way.

Perhaps that is the simplest thing I would like people to know about my work: behind all the forms, materials, and ideas, there is a very simple intention—to create something that makes people feel a little more at ease.

Caspiloun is not a large company or design studio; it is a small workshop in Tabriz, Iran. We produced our first beanbag chair around nine years ago, and the Caspiloun brand has existed for almost five years. What matters most to me is the atmosphere inside the workshop. It is a calm, friendly place where people enjoy working together, and I believe that sense of peace becomes part of the products we make. Many of our customers request customized pieces, so every project is also an opportunity to solve a new design challenge.

For me, design is where beauty and purpose meet. Unlike art, which may exist simply to express an idea or emotion, design also has a practical responsibility. A well-designed object should be visually meaningful, pleasant to use, and capable of improving everyday life. I think the most memorable designs succeed because they combine aesthetic quality with genuine usefulness.

I often feel most creative when I am facing a problem. Difficult situations, whether personal or professional, encourage me to think differently and search for solutions I would not have discovered otherwise. In that sense, creativity is less about waiting for inspiration and more about responding to challenges with curiosity and persistence.

I pay attention to many aspects of a design, including form, comfort, materials, and functionality. However, I always return to one simple question: “Would I genuinely want to live with this object?” If the answer is no, I continue refining it. Designing for myself first helps me remain honest about the decisions I make.

A successful design attracts attention at first sight, but its real value becomes clear through use. If an object continues to improve someone’s everyday experience long after the first impression has passed, I believe it has achieved something meaningful.

I believe designers have a responsibility to improve everyday life in thoughtful ways. Sometimes that means making products more sustainable or practical. Sometimes it means paying attention to emotional well-being, because the objects we live with can influence how we feel. Even small improvements, when thoughtfully designed, can have a meaningful impact over time.

Nature has always been my strongest source of inspiration, particularly the softness and lightness of clouds. Beyond nature, I am inspired by philosophy, literature, and everyday conversations with people. I often find that meaningful ideas emerge from observing ordinary life rather than searching for extraordinary experiences.

I would describe my approach as emotionally driven, human-centered, and quietly minimalist. Rather than following a particular visual trend, I try to create objects that feel calm, comfortable, and welcoming. My goal is not only to solve functional problems but also to contribute positively to the emotional atmosphere of the spaces people live in.

I live and work in Tabriz, Iran. I believe our cultural background influences us in many ways, even when we are not consciously aware of it. Persian culture has a long tradition of appreciating craftsmanship, hospitality, poetry, and the idea of home as a place of comfort and belonging. Looking back, I think those values naturally found their way into my work.

Designing in Iran also comes with practical challenges. Access to certain materials can be limited, and economic conditions have made manufacturing increasingly demanding in recent years. At the same time, these constraints have encouraged me to become more resourceful, to work closely with local manufacturers, and to appreciate the value of thoughtful craftsmanship rather than relying on unlimited resources.

My design process usually begins with a question rather than a sketch. I spend time thinking about a problem or an experience I would like to improve before moving into physical prototypes. From there, the project develops through observation, repeated testing, and refinement. I rarely expect the first version to be the final one. User feedback plays an important role, and I often discover the most valuable improvements only after seeing how people naturally interact with a prototype.

My golden rule is simple: would I genuinely choose to live with this object myself? If I wouldn’t want it in my own home, or if I wouldn’t confidently recommend it to someone I care about, then it isn’t ready yet. That question helps me stay honest throughout the design process.

My most important tools are observation, imagination, and physical prototyping. I spend a great deal of time visualizing an object before making it, sometimes closing my eyes and mentally exploring its proportions, materials, and the way it might feel to use. Nature is also an important reference for me, not because I copy its forms directly, but because it reminds me how simplicity and function often exist together. Once an idea reaches the workshop, the real design process continues through making, testing, and refining each prototype.

I used to make very detailed long-term plans, but over time I have learned that creative work rarely follows a straight path. Today, I prefer to have a clear direction rather than a fixed destination. I hope to continue developing thoughtful furniture inspired by nature and emotional well-being, while remaining open to unexpected opportunities and ideas. More than anything, I simply want to keep learning, making, and improving with each new project.

I develop the initial concepts myself, but every design benefits from collaboration once it enters the workshop. My team plays an important role during prototyping, testing, and manufacturing. Their practical experience often leads to valuable improvements, and many ideas become stronger through discussion and experimentation. Although the original concept usually begins with me, bringing it to life is very much a shared effort.

Yes. I am currently developing another seating design inspired by nature. The first prototypes have already been built, and I am now refining the details through testing and observation. It is still too early to reveal much, but I hope it continues my exploration of emotional comfort and human-centered furniture.

People can learn more about my work through my website at Caspian Home, or follow my ongoing projects on Instagram at @moblsheni. I am also happy to be contacted by email at hamzelouzahra@gmail.com.

I hope my work encourages people to think about furniture not only as something we use, but as something that quietly shapes the way we experience everyday life. If a piece of furniture can help someone feel a little calmer, more comfortable, or more at home, then I believe it has already fulfilled an important purpose.