Globally, the European Commission reports, a truckload of textiles heads to landfills or is incinerated every single second.

The fashion industry accounts for some 10 percent of greenhouse gas emissions worldwide.

Less than 1 percent of the materials used to make clothing is recycled, according to a report by the Ellen MacArthur Foundation.

The best way to keep clothes out of a landfill? Don’t make them.

Picture this: Not long ago, it wasn’t unusual for a customer to walk into an H&M store and not be able to find a basic white t-shirt in their size. Why? Like most long-established retail operations, H&M was operating with a push model—placing seasonal bets on what the demand for a given item of clothing might be, locking orders far in advance, and hoping that they were able to sell out. Make a mistake in that kind of model, though, and you can end up with customers unable to find the basics they rely on, or excess inventory you can’t sell. That’s a problem for the business, but for the environment as well—and one that doesn’t fit H&M’s aggressive sustainability goals.

Though H&M had tried to tackle the problem before, the launch of the H&M Group Design Studio, co-created with IDEO, gave the retailer the confidence to go after it again. The team started out by mapping out the complex network of people that make up its supply chain across the globe, meeting with everyone from designers to garment suppliers, logistics managers, and even folks selling the final product in H&M stores. 

They then created an algorithm for more precise ordering, as well as a tool that provides a shared view of information. Instead of placing orders, the new automated flow—dubbed “Cruise Control"—allows staff to work with a demand forecast that gives them more time to focus on customer-centric operations, like providing guidance and inspiration. It also makes it easier for H&M to follow the demands of the market, and place much more accurate bets on what consumers will want, when. Already, H&M has significantly increased sales while cutting excess inventory—a result that improves its bottom line, as well as its environmental impact.

Estimates project that by 2030, global apparel consumption will hit 102 million tons.

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22%

reduction in stock during a pilot program

34%

increase in sales during a pilot program

To foster creative projects that spoke to the needs of local communities and environments, the BSA began to engage its members in collaborative, user-led design. The organization launched its first-ever innovation challenge, putting out a call for all members to pitch their ideas for projects in the built environment.

The BSA expected those pitches to have dollar signs attached. To the organizer’s surprise, only one asked for funding. The rest requested less tangible, but equally meaningful support: advice, connections, specific expertise. Those are resources that the BSA has aplenty, but hadn’t learned how to leverage well.

From that first go at an innovation challenge, the BSA learned how to better support its members. It also learned that to lead with purpose and make strategic choices, one must develop the confidence to say no. Instead of spreading itself thin across many projects, the organization decided to take small steps, focusing on one initiative at a time, so that it can deliver focused impact and stay true to its evolving mission.

With 36% of global energy going to buildings and 8% of global emissions caused by cement alone, the architectural community is inextricably intertwined with both the causes and solutions related to climate change.

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According to a survey conducted by the AIA, the architecture profession in the US is less diverse than the population as a whole. This lack of diversity can contribute to a disconnect between architects and the communities they serve.

31

submissions received from innovators in the Boston region working on equity and sustainability challenges

5

innovation teams invited to pitch ideas

The resources that NYU students needed were organized by administrative department, and buried on disparate websites and calendars. But students don’t think in terms of departments—they just need to know where their classes are.

All of this became patently clear as IDEO shadowed students. Team members visited classrooms, walked with them through their days, and hosted pop-ups in highly trafficked areas to get ideas from passersby. That helped the team develop a common understanding of the overall student journey and grounded employees in the key moments that can either make or break a student’s experience. Visualizing their journey helped departments gain a shared understanding of the fractured communications challenge and develop possible solutions.

To synthesize those insights, we formed cross-functional action learning groups, challenging existing practices at the university and coming up with new ways of working. Participants came from a diverse set of departments, including enrollment management, student affairs, marketing and communications, IT, global inclusion, student services, the provost’s office, digital communications, and more. The cohorts sketched early hypotheses and got feedback from faculty, administrators, and students from all of NYU's undergraduate schools to refine initial concepts.

Collaborating with students gave staff a first-hand look at what students were struggling with and a way to engage students directly in addressing those challenges. Just as importantly, there was an overall culture shift at NYU: Administrators started with questions instead of agendas, came together around a table, and reached beyond their job descriptions to meet the needs of students.

First-year students reported receiving hundreds of paper forms, and email from more than 70 unique senders.

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NYU needed to offer students the right resources at the right time—and collaborate to serve them as a unified administration.

New services

in-production include centralized calendars, dynamic campus mapping, and customized notifications

Design-thinking cohorts

now support the student experience

Diversity alone isn’t enough—in marketing or any other facet of business. Today’s brands must authentically engage with and create the conditions for co-design with existing communities.

That sort of deep, meaningful engagement with customers doesn’t happen over Instagram. It requires a playbook, a prototype, and a healthy amount of trust. So, IDEO worked with Athleta and Gap to tap into the wisdom of a council of women who represent intersectional identities and lived experiences. The council surfaced powerful insights for the brand, like the fact that active women don’t need a brand to empower them—they already feel powerful.

After only a few weeks, Athleta experienced the difference between research and a truly reciprocal relationship. The way their brand engages with communities is adding depth, understanding, and authenticity to Athleta’s content, products, and experiences. And women can feel the difference.

76% of US adults say that the media promotes an unattainable body image for women.

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Fewer than 1 in 10 businesses review for inclusion as part of product design and marketing campaigns.

>2X

user growth in 2022

13,000+

Athleta WellPro well-being providers active on the platform

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In one sentence, who are you?

Someone who isn’t ever too embarrassed or ashamed to try.

What do you do? How did you learn to do it?

I make work that’s hard to explain to Lyft drivers. The long explanation of how I learned it would be based on a class I took at Cooper Union, my inability to work for others, and a creative yet rough upbringing. The short version is this: Six years ago during a creative drought, I took a few workshops, and basic weaving was one of them. I walked away from it regretful and uninspired. In an effort to salvage the money I spent on the class, I started a project with my new skill set. I broke all the rules I had learned and created my own, and that’s when everything fell into place.

3 favorite possessions?

My dogs, Truffle, Stitch, and Sunday.

What does a typical work session look like?

On average, when I’m not under a heavy deadline, I put in about eight hours of studio time. I enjoy working alone, and often in silence.

How do you get over creative block?

I focus on improving my personal life. Usually that’s where I'll find the source of the block.

How do you see the world in 2078?

I’m no longer going to four different supermarkets to get my groceries because I’m dead. In all seriousness, I would like to think that in 2078, a former foster kid will become or already have been elected president of the United States.

What’s your number one bucket list item?

Design my own home/studio on 20+ acres of land.

Who are you creative crushin’ on lately?

My current crushes are Natalie Herrera, Linda Lopez, Ellen Van Dusen, Mimi O Chun, Rami Kim, Dina Satti, and the ladies of Egg Collective.

A few years ago, while taking weaving classes in Brooklyn, I stumbled upon Mimi Jung's textile works and was transfixed by their sculptural nature and Mimi's painterly ability. She was accomplishing something with fibers that I had been struggling—and failing—to capture on canvas for years. I've been following her prolific pursuits ever since, and draw on them often for inspiration, so I jumped at the opportunity to get to know Mimi for our Creative Crushes series. Her latest and greatest works continue to push the boundaries of what we know is possible in fiber arts, and it turns out, she's not just a fantastic artist, but a pretty amazing woman too.

Before you ever see a movie or watch a TV show, it’s likely that a title screen from a trailer or poster art has gotten you there. As a UX designer, the art of the film title has always inspired me and shaped the way I think about branding and design. Here are the title creators (and one typographer) who have inspired me:

1. Saul Bass

Saul Bass is among the pioneers of title design. In 1955, his title sequence for Preminger’s The Man with the Golden Arm made him famous. He then went on to design for Alfred Hitchcock, Stanley Kubrick, and Martin Scorsese. His work showed that the first minutes of a film are of great importance. When played right at the beginning, titles serve as an overture, foreshadowing part of the story, mood, or theme. It’s a dramatic device that puts the audience in the world of the movie before they even start watching it.

Opening title sequences by Saul Bass.

Bass put it this way: “I saw the title as a way of conditioning the audience, so that when the film actually began, viewers would already have an emotional resonance with it.” It's helpful advice for anyone designing a title page, presentation, or home screen. With those elements, title designers prepare audiences for what they're about to see. “Try to reach for a simple, visual phrase that tells you what the picture is all about and evokes the essence of the story,” he said.

Opening title sequences by Pablo Ferro.

2. Pablo Ferro

One of Bass’s fellow title designers was Cuban-born Pablo Ferro, who has designed title sequences for more than 100 films. He taught himself animation from a book by Preston Blair, who worked at Walt Disney productions.

Title designers like Ferro put a lot into setting the right tone, time period, and scene for the story you’re about to see—and it all starts with font. Whether it’s custom or off the shelf, font conveys a certain character and builds the brand for a movie or show. Ferro loved hand-lettering and designed many of his own fonts. When Kubrick asked him to design the title sequence for Dr. Strangelove, Ferro chose to use a tall, thin lettering that he had scribbled in one of his notebooks so that it wouldn't obscure or distract from the underlying footage.

3. Maurice Binder

Having designed title sequences for 14 James Bond films, Maurice Binder created a signature style that used silhouettes and bold typefaces to evoke espionage and intrigue. In the opening sequence for Agent 007 against Dr. No, Binder established the famous gun barrel sequence, initiating the pop era of graphic design. Binder's work is a great example of how consistency of style and typeface help build a strong brand.

4. Ed Benguiat

Does the font EF Windsor Light Condensed look familiar? Maybe set in white on a black background, accompanied by some jazz music? Yup, it’s the signature opening for Woody Allen movies. Allen happened to have a conversation with typographer Ed Benguiat in a diner in New Jersey one morning, and Benguiat recommended he use the Windsor typeface for its warmth and friendliness. Allen loved it and used it for almost all of his titles from then on. Though Benguiat isn't technically a title designer, his fonts have been an influence on many.

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5. Imaginary Forces

Typographer Ed Benguiat plays a role in our final example, too. Michelle Dougherty—of acclaimed design firm Imaginary Forces—ended up choosing his self titled font, Benguiat, as the primary typeface for the Netflix series Stranger Things. She chose it for its strong 80s appeal and ties to paperback novels from that era.

Then there was the matter of animating the logotype and adding sound and music to bring it to life. The Stranger Things title sequence shows how powerful and expressive type in motion can be. Flickering lights that imitate the optical process, morphing serifs, and the admittedly intense score convey that eerie feeling of mystery. The title sequence for Stranger Things was so well received, a couple of title generators and copycats popped up on the internet to imitate its style.

Opening sequence of Stranger Things designed by Michelle Dougherty with the Benguiat typeface.

To view a great selection of classic and contemporary title sequences head over to The Art of the Title.

Title sequences in the header image by Maurice Binder (Barbarella), Imaginary Forces (Vinyl, Stranger Things, Mad Men), R/GA (Seven), Digital Kitchen (Trueblood, Narcos, Dexter), and Nexus Productions (Catch Me If You Can).

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Great movie titles permanently burn into our brains. Everyone can identify a James Bond film by its graphic overlays of babes and guns. And who could ever forget Star Wars’ opening crawl, how it scrolls back into space as John Williams' famous theme—da, dee dee da, dee dee da—echoes through the theater.

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My coworkers recently called me out on a thoughtless act I'd been doing for months without even noticing. Not long ago, I upgraded my phone to a certain unnamed model whose designers decided to remove the headphone jack—meaning you either need Bluetooth headphones or an adapter. As a music nerd who is overly particular about the headphones I use, I wasn't ready to give up my trusty corded earbuds. But I also know that I'll inevitably lose said adapter, because I lose anything that isn't attached to my everyday carry. The catch? Everyday at work, I listen to music from my laptop, which uses a traditional headphone jack. I guess, subconsciously, I found a solution to avoid losing the adapter that was there all along: When I'm not using it, I clip the adapter into the rubber piece that's attached to the the earbuds to keep their cords together. I'm going on six months without needing to buy a new adapter. #Success.

Human-centered design requires us to observe human behavior with beginner's eyes, so that we can spot the innate ways people interact with the world around them. We call these intuitive and unconscious reactions Thoughtless Acts, and IDEO designers collect photos of them to inspire their work.

So I decided to pursue my own absurd hobby that would combine my twin passions for beer brewing and fictional cartography into what I hope is the ultimate beer drinking experience. Or at least the most ridiculous. I call it Bean Brew.

We talk a lot about the user journey at IDEO. It’s a way to break down how a person experiences important moments when interacting with a product or service. While bottling my first few batches several years back, I obsessed over the taste of the beer and the bottle's label design—two key moments in the beer drinker's user journey. But then I realized that there are so many other moments that I was leaving out of the design process.

So I asked myself: Could I contextualize the combined drinking experiences of each person who received a bottle of Bean Brew? Could I turn that into a map? And could I deliver that map back to Bean Brew drinkers months later in the form of a delightful silkscreen poster? That became my design challenge.

So what have I learned from my side gig?

1. Quantitative data inspires design

Bean Brew has taught me a lot about how to integrate quantitative survey data into a cohesive storytelling experience (something we’re trying to do more and more of at IDEO these days). I start with questions like these, which I include as part of a survey wrapped around the bottle’s neck:

• What are your three favorite board games?
• Complete the following sentence: If I were on a ship for 1 year, my ideal job position would be ________.

I then transform the responses I get from people who received a particular batch of Bean Brew into a poster that looks something like this.

2. There's more to design than what meets the eye

Sometimes, as you go through the design process, you realize the thing you think you're designing (a bottle of beer) isn’t what you're actually designing (a beer drinking experience). This is true for most of the projects I’ve worked on at IDEO, and for Bean Brew, too.

3. Side gigs = side skills

Finally, I’ve learned a bunch of tangible skills throughout the process of making Bean Brew: Arc GIS (cartography software), best practices for glue adhesion (getting elaborate labels to stick to bottles), and how to use the power of analog experience to blow away anything an iPhone can do. I’m confident that I’ll be applying at least some of these skills to an upcoming IDEO project.

Bean Brew is my attempt to bring as much joy and delight to my hobbies as possible, and in doing so, I find that I’m more more creative and productive as part of my day job. And so much happier.

I am not training for any marathons. Just an expedition to Antarctica. In a submarine. With beer.

Years ago, I was working at a law firm in Boston. Many of my colleagues had the same hobby—training for the Boston Marathon in the middle of the frigid New England winter. This was what they did for “fun.” I was so amazed that these people with such unhappy day jobs would choose what seemed like such an unhappy hobby to fill their nights and weekends. Many years and two careers later, I moved to San Francisco to take a job as a designer at IDEO. In my first months here, I remember being struck by all of the wonderful and absurd hobbies that my new colleagues had. It was a delightful and inspiring contrast to my dark days in Boston.

I help organizations cut through complexity by shaping how they show up, through brand strategy, identity, and storytelling.

Working at the intersection of brand and business, I bring an editorial eye and a bias toward making—turning ideas into tangible experiences that people can understand, trust, and believe in.

My work spans government, healthcare, financial services, media, and consumer goods, from launching Gen Z-focused ventures to building innovation labs and reimagining legacy brands. I relish moments of ambiguity and enjoy translating across teams, perspectives, and priorities to move ideas forward.

I started my career in editorial and digital design, shaping cross-platform experiences and identity systems in publishing and agency environments. That foundation still shapes how I work today: I’m detail-oriented, collaborative, and overreliant on the Oxford comma. I hold a BFA in Visual Communication from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

For 25 years, I've asked the same question: Who does this design exclude—and what are we going to do about it?

My work spans human-centered strategy, inclusive design, and qualitative research, with clients ranging from Microsoft, Google, and Verizon to the National Science Foundation, and San Francisco Unified School District.

Before IDEO, I taught elementary school in East Palo Alto and spent a decade doing design work with social service organizations—where I learned firsthand what it costs people when systems are built without them in mind.

I am currently writing User Error, a nonfiction book about digital access and the design decisions behind it. I live in Oakland, California.

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My expertise spans brand, communication, and product design across tech, education, the arts, and social impact.

I believe great work demands both high-level vision and obsessive attention to detail, and only happens through collaboration.

I bring an inclusive, hands-on approach and a deep understanding of business, which enables me to consistently deliver excellence while always asking why.

Before joining IDEO, I worked at the brand firms Pentagram and VSA Partners. I began my career as a designer, leading teams at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Milwaukee Art Museum. I hold an MFA in graphic design from Maryland Institute College of Art and a BFA in communication design from the Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design, and have taught at some of the best design schools in the US.

I am responsible for IDEO’s long-term success in China and working with clients to use design as a tool to enable growth. Specifically, I have helped Chinese companies design holistic brand solutions through the development of their products, communication, services, and innovation teams, and I have helped multinationals expand their presence and influence in China.

I advise global leaders on developing China-led innovation and capabilities.

In over 15 years in IDEO Shanghai, I have worked on projects that use design to elevate the quality of the experience of healthcare products and services, streamline processes that increase productivity, create spaces and programs that promote and enable inclusive communities, and build next generation mobility solutions that are planet-positive.

Before joining IDEO, I worked at Philips Electronics and the Electrolux Group in Italy, the Netherlands, and Singapore on a number of breakthrough commercial products. I am a member of the Young President Organization in Shanghai.

Most AI products today are built for work—a space with clear problems and established systems. One founder noticed a gap: personal life is messier, harder to systematize, and mostly left behind by the AI boom. So she built Cue, a personal AI that lives inside iMessage and group chats, to go where the other tools haven't.

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In this episode, Becca Carroll, IDEO's Chief Strategy Officer, talks with Sida Li, co-founder and CEO of Shared Context Lab, about staying anchored to a human need while the technology around her keeps changing shape, why she treats her business model with the same rigor she'd bring to a product, and what it feels like to build a company at this particular, disorienting moment in AI.

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The conversation also gets into how Sida makes design decisions: the language Cue uses to describe itself, the tradeoffs behind building inside iMessage instead of a new app, and a real story about a business idea that didn’t pan out.

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This is the second in a two-part series profiling founders from IDEO's Startups-in-Residence program. The first conversation is with Johannes Seemann, founder of Sooner, on designing GenAI for the emotional side of money.

Most personal financial tools are built to run the numbers and optimize towards a budget. While that works for some, most people experience money as a lived relationship that does not neatly fit into a spreadsheet. Johannes Seemann and Becca Carroll discuss why money is emotional before it is mathematical, and what a human-centered approach to building a generative AI financial product looks like in practice.

Mina Seetharaman talks with Scott Shigeoka, author of Seek and Head of Curiosity Cultivation at the Eames Institute, about what distinguishes genuinely curious leadership from performative curiosity, how power dynamics shape curiosity, and why practicing curiosity can restore energy rather than drain it.

Mina Seetharaman talks with David Epstein, author of Inside the Box and Range, about why total freedom often produces average work, how leaders can design useful limits on purpose, and what organizations such as General Magic and Pixar reveal about the relationship between boundaries and creativity.