Faye Toogood, a British designer celebrated for her multidisciplinary approach across furniture, fashion and interiors, has reached acclaim for her minimalist yet deeply emotive work. From her Roly-Poly chair, the Assemblage series and the sculptural Spade chair, to countless garments and interior pieces, her design ethos is one that embodies a hand-made, tactile and sculptural quality, sprinkled with comfort, playful forms and subtle hints to her upbringing in the English countryside. Bringing imperfection and human touch to the fore, her collaborations have bridged both the art and fashion worlds, while her designs have graced galleries, catwalks and high-end interiors alike. Until now, her furniture pieces, specifically, were often hard and rigid.
During London Design Festival 2024, and after its debut in Milan, Toogood unveiled her latest collaboration, Squash, with Italian brand and leather expert Poltrona Frau, which features an armchair, side table, rug and mirror. Marking a significant departure from her signature hard furniture, for the first time, this collection introduces a newfound softness to her practice; the Squash Chair, for instance, appears like a curvy cloud that’s been flattened through the wind. The leather is squeezed out of shape, forming an inviting albeit wrinkly structure that appeals to anyone wanting to sift comfortably for a few hours or more. This piece has been made to last a lifetime, and over the years, the user will become one with its forms, with each dent and fold moulding to the body. In fact, as Toogood explains, in 30 years time the chair will be “perfect”.
The collaboration signals an exciting evolution in her practice – her transition from crafting rigid forms to creating pieces that, while still in her sculptural style, evoke a more cosy aesthetic. In this Q&A, we delve into her creative process, her decision to venture into soft furnishings, how she’s constantly questioning the notions of beauty and good taste, and her exploration of human connection through design.
Your recent collaboration with Poltrona Frau has resulted in the Squash Collection, your first venture into soft furnishings. How did this project come about?
About two and a half years ago, Poltrona Frau invited me to their museum and factory in southern Italy. They asked if I’d like to work with them, and I was surprised. But when I explored their archives, I was blown away by their rich history. They had pieces by Gio Ponti that I knew of, but also many I wasn’t familiar with. That’s when I realised that contributing to this archive would be an honour.
Poltrona Frau originally started by blending British upholstery with an Italian twist, primarily in leather. It felt right for me to bring some of that British sensibility back, and the idea of starting with a club chair – a classic form – was where I saw my connection.
Did you start the design process traditionally, or was it more hands-on?
Very hands-on. I brought a “box of tricks” with me – no CAD drawings or digital sketches – just objects and models. I had a beautiful old English folk leather jug, some handmade models and an old folk game. The team looked at me like, “Where are the drawings?” But I explained that we’d start by sculpting. We pulled out fabric, and I began hand-sculpting shapes, which they would sew, bring back to me, and I’d adjust by cutting open, restuffing or reshaping. This process of working physically, with my hands, has now become integral to my practice.
So your sculptural background played a significant role?
Absolutely. I studied sculpture, and this project brought me back to those roots. I think working in fashion over the last 10 years has also helped, particularly in how I understand the body, movement and textiles. Designing soft furnishings felt like dressing the body with furniture – how we sit and move has evolved, and I wanted to bring that into the collection.
You can really envision your hand sculpting it.
Exactly. Sculpting, literally. And I feel like in 30 years’ time, that chair will be perfect. The leather will mould to somebody’s body like an old coat or leather bag – it becomes better with time. It’s asking to be used and sat in. The evolution will improve it, and I hope that one day it will end up in the museum, along with the original. What I’m trying to do now is bring the human element into furniture, so it goes beyond aesthetics or ergonomics.
It’s very invitational; you look at it, and you really do want to sit in it, which I don't think is always the case with furniture design.
Yes, 100%. I’ve been guilty of it too – creating furniture that isn’t always comfortable. But I feel now more than ever, it's about creating something that people feel they can interact with, that will stand the test of time.
It sounds like craft and concept is at the heart of your work. How did you balance these elements in the Squash Collection?
Craftsmanship is key. I wanted to show the hand in the work, something beyond pure aesthetics or ergonomics. For instance, I was inspired by a small leather mirror from the Poltrona Frau archives. I incorporated similar gestures into the collection, keeping things tactile and raw. My challenge has been not to let production polish everything up too much – it’s about keeping that human touch visible.
You’ve often cited English folk art as an inspiration. How does that influence thread through this collection?
It’s less direct in the Squash Collection, but it’s there in the handling of textiles and the colour palette. I grew up in quite an alternative family. We had no televisions, no gender-specific toys, and spent a lot of time in nature, foraging and walking in the countryside. My parents were quite "granola", as you might say. We were either outdoors or being dragged around National Trust houses. That led to my passion for objects and interiors, and eventually, into art history.
After art history, I went into interior magazines, which was a kind of education for me. But when I started making furniture and objects, I wanted to distance myself from traditional pastiches. I cut myself off from colour, pattern and tradition to explore new forms and geometry that felt relevant to today. Now, however, I feel that the knowledge and heritage I grew up with are starting to return in my work – colour, pattern, decoration – all those elements are gushing back in.
I love the primitive nature of it. There’s something about feeling the hand and the humanity in a piece that really resonates with me. It’s like this primal connection to the process.
You also often question beauty in your work. How does that shape your design philosophy?
That’s something I’m always questioning, particularly in my clothing collections. What is femininity? What is female beauty? What’s considered beautiful? I like playing with these ideas – the masculine and the feminine, the raw and the precious. Is tin as beautiful as gold? Is something loose as beautiful as something tightly upholstered? I don’t know, but I’m constantly exploring these notions.
I’m also interested in questioning what we consider good taste. What is beautiful or traditional? For me, beauty isn’t the same as aesthetics. Design has often been preoccupied with function or aesthetics – industrial designers focus on ergonomics, while others emphasise how something looks. But beauty, for me, is more connected to humanity, to emotion. It’s about what makes us human, not what’s technically perfect.
Some pieces connect with millions of people, while others don’t, and I think it’s because the more I put in of myself – my heart and my hands – the more people resonate with it. And that connection has nothing to do with aesthetics or ergonomics.
Your work spans multiple disciplines. When you have an idea outside of a collection, how do you decide which medium to use? Is there a specific process, or do you just go with the flow?
It’s often serendipitous. I have lots of ideas, thoughts, shapes and processes floating around, but not all of them come to fruition. Sometimes, someone like Paul Jones or Zucchini will approach me with a project, and I’ll go through my physical sketchbooks to find the right starting point. The ideas are all there, but it’s not always clear how they’ll translate into a new medium.
One thing I haven’t done yet that I’m really eager to explore is jewellery. I’ve been saying that for years now! Jewellery feels like wearable sculpture – it’s connected to the body, and there’s something there that I feel I could really tap into. I’m just waiting for the right moment. Hopefully, next year I’ll be able to venture into it.
That sounds exciting! Besides jewellery, do you have any projects or exhibitions coming up?
Yes, next year is going to be busy. I have a solo show at Friedman Benda Gallery in New York in January. In March, we’re launching a project at Future Perfect in both New York and LA, and I’m also doing a small show with Tiwa Gallery, which is run by Alex Tiwa, someone who’s doing some really interesting things in the art world. So, a lot is happening in America for me next year. And who knows, maybe I’ll finally do the jewellery too!
Will you continue your foray into soft furnishings?
I’m continuing to expand my work with soft furnishings, and I’m excited to see how this more sculptural, hands-on approach evolves. I’m also working on more collaborations, pushing my design language into new forms and contexts. And of course, exploring how to bring even more humanity into design, whether that’s through materials, process, or simply creating objects that invite people to sit, touch and interact.