I studied design straight out of school but ended up doing other things... for 20 years. 

Back around ten years ago I started to draw and design again. Having always enjoyed working with wood, I started creating wooden objects by hand.

Drawn in by the calm of the process... the meditative nature of making; working slowly to create new forms from a single piece of wood, I was grateful to have found my way back to designing and making.

My practice quickly grew in to a full time vocation. Between my studios in London and Central Vietnam, I now design and make a range of functional objects and sculptural works. I work with private collectors, interior designers, galleries and some amazing chefs, from around the world.

For years I carved and shaped every single piece myself. I loved it…

but it wasn’t sustainable - physically, mentally, or as a way to grow without losing the care and intention behind the work.

People often imagine everything being made entirely by hand, with knives. It’s a beautiful idea, and there’s truth in it, but it’s never been the whole story.

For a long time, I’ve used a balance of traditional handwork, cnc milling and other technologies, always refining the shapes by hand and finishing each piece with the same attention and intention.

I had people who helped along the way. Sometimes directly employed, sometimes as partners supporting different parts of the process. The way the work is made has always been a blend of my own hands, my designs, and the skills of others who’ve supported my studio as it’s grown.

As the demand for my work continued to grow, it became clear that I couldn’t continue carrying so much of the shaping and finishing myself, without burning out or raising prices to a level that excluded almost everyone.

So instead of stepping away from the tableware side of my practice, or risk losing the quality, intention and slow, careful process behind what I create, I decided to create the workshop I wish existed; small, ethical, direct, and human.

Over the years I’d spent a lot of time in Southeast Asia - we lived out here many years ago - and returned a few times, travelling and exploring.

So, when the time came to rethink how my practice could grow, it felt natural to look back toward this part of the world.

I’ve spent the last couple of years setting up a workshop in Central Vietnam, putting together a team of local people, training them carefully, and building the skills needed to make my designs with the care and attention they require. They’re employed directly by me, paid well, receive full government insurances, have proper paid holidays, and work in a bright, safe space - something that many small workshops around the world do well - but just as often, working conditions can be unpredictable or insecure, especially at this scale.

What began as a personal making practice has grown into a small, independent business - now supporting a team of skilled makers and a wider community.

Together, we make the pieces I design exactly as I’ve always made them: using the same responsibly sourced timber, the same forms, and the same careful hand-finishing. The only difference is that I’m no longer doing it alone.

When someone buys a piece now, they’re not just supporting me to keep designing and putting this work into the world, they’re also supporting a small team and their families, creating stable, skilled jobs that grow with the studio.

This feels like the most honest way to grow my practice without losing the care, closeness and intention behind the work, and essentially what it all means to me.

For now, this way of working allows me to stay closely connected to the objects I design and create, while gradually giving me more time and headspace to explore new directions for my work.