While the rest of the world was hunkering down in 2020 as the reality of COVID set in, Gabriel Tan was moving house — halfway around the world.
The Singaporean designer and his heavily pregnant wife Cherie Er relocated with their five-year-old son to Porto, on the coast of Portugal. It was a bold move given Tan had an established studio in Singapore, but the couple decided it was worth the risk to be in the heart of the design centres in Europe and the US.
“It was difficult because we had a good business in Singapore and my wife had a really good job — she was running the Asia Pacific sales for Credit Suisse,” he says. “We threw everything in the basket and moved to Portugal.
“We decided that this design business has to work.”
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By the time Tan, who decided on a career in design while doing his national service in the navy, left for Portugal, he was already a name in Singapore and Japan, first with Outofstock, which he started with two friends, then his own studio before working with Japanese brand Ariake.
“I met them when they were still doing contract manufacturing and they were a local brand that wasn’t even known in Tokyo,” he says. “Originally the plan was just for me to design a few products for them. I told them that’s not going to move the needle for them if you are just going to add my products to your current collection so I suggested something more ambitious.
“I kind of appointed myself as the creative director.”
Origin story
The experience with Ariake spurred Tan onto build his own brand, Origin Made, designing products and taking on interior design projects, but he was keen to continue to extend himself.
Over time, living and working in a country of 5.5 million people was beginning to feel limiting.
With more of his time and attention being directed towards brands in Italy, Scandinavia and the United States, it made sense for Tan to make a permanent move to a location with easier access to Europe as well as North America. It was also an opportunity for a fresh start in design terms.
“I felt I was getting pigeon holed a little bit before COVID because people felt my work was very minimalist Japanese/Scandinavian, but it was because I was designing for Japanese clients,” he says. “When you work with a company, it is 50 percent them and 50 percent you. You bring part of yourself but at the same time, you can’t ignore the brand, their culture and their customers.”
Life in lockdown
Like much of the rest of the world, Portugal was in lockdown when Tan and Er arrived and their rental accommodation was not entirely comfortable for the family. As some work dried up in Singapore, Tan found himself with time to think.
“We were spending a lot of time in front of the TV and we were all wishing we had a more comfortable couch in our apartment,” he says.
“I was still waiting for my home to be finished construction so we were in a very uncomfortable spot.
“I really prioritised comfort when I was designing this sofa so I really went for it and tried to think ‘what is the craziest, most comfortable form we could get’.”

The sofa is the Luva (Portuguese for glove), a modular design taking its inspiration from Japanese futon beds and western boxing gloves. The backrest has the ability to extend for full lounging or to fold down to create a ‘fist’ for more support. It’s a deliberate attempt at cross cultural pollination.
“You have the eastern influence of the futon and the western sport of boxing and I tried to get an aesthetic that different cultures would be familiar with whether they are from Asia, Europe or the US,” he says. “You will find this shape is familiar to you and you will be naturally drawn to it.”
Build your own
While the lounge is in keeping with a contemporary aesthetic and comfort levels, it also embodies the practicality that is an integral part of Tan’s approach. Each piece is available individually, allowing the user to ‘build’ the lounge to suit their needs, whether they live in a large house or a small apartment.
“I have lived in apartments all my life,” he says. “You can see how narrow the stairwells can be, and you have to carry the sofa up.
“Whenever we are doing interior design for clients we know the consideration when you’re buying a sofa. If it’s modular, if you can get it through doorways and narrow hallways, it’s going to be much easier to convince the client to buy.”
It’s also a design that the user can add to over time, extending the usefulness and longevity of the sofa. Tan took it to product design director at Herman Miller, Noah Schwarz, who was quick to recognise its applications.
“He would often ask what I was working on so I showed him this sofa and immediately he was like ‘this could be something for us’,” says Tan.
“He thought it might be something for the MillerKnoll group but which brand he couldn’t tell yet.
“But he said ‘definitely don’t show it to other people’.”
The Luva has since been joined by the Cyclade tables, a trio of coffee and occasional tables designed to work equally well together or singularly. Other collaborations have followed, including work with major European brands such as B+B Italia, Menu, Abstracta and Design Within Reach while still maintaining his Singaporean office.

Cutting down travel times has meant more time on the ground.
“Here I travel quite a lot to meet with different companies I am working with and that helps because to me these distances are super short,” he says. “For designers living in Europe they might not want to go to Denmark because it’s a 3.5 hour flight but to me, even if I have to transit, five hours is no problem.”
Leap of faith
Although the move to Europe was risky, Tan has no regrets. While he admits his Portuguese is still a work in progress, his two sons (Er delivered a baby boy not long after arriving in Portugal) are quickly learning the language and the family has now moved into a traditional townhouse, which Tan has renovated, and where their office is based.

Being in the heart of Europe has opened up a world of opportunity for Tan that has been both invigorating and challenging.
“I am designing for companies of different countries and I get to learn more about other ways of life and how people from other countries see design and see their homes and their spaces and how people do business in different parts of the world,” he says. “Coming from Singapore, it can be very stifling because it is so small. It’s really such a joy to experience these different cultures through design collaborations.”
Moving away from family and friends was a leap of faith but it gave him the push he needed. For a designer whose work is all about comfort, he is not one taking the safe path and staying home.
“It’s a good business model for revenue but you are not going to leave a mark on design history, you are not going to touch the lives of that many people if you are working with regional brands,” he says. “I really wanted to work with the international brands that have the reach with customers worldwide and I think if I hadn’t moved I would not have had that clarity of mind and that focus to really go for it.”
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Weary of ‘smart’ everything, Americans are craving stylish ‘analog rooms’ free of digital distractions—and designers are making them a growing trend.
James and Ellen Patterson are hardly Luddites. But the couple, who both work in tech, made an unexpectedly old-timey decision during the renovation of their 1928 Washington, D.C., home last year.
The Pattersons had planned to use a spacious unfinished basement room to store James’s music equipment, but noticed that their children, all under age 21, kept disappearing down there to entertain themselves for hours without the aid of tablets or TVs.
Inspired, the duo brought a new directive to their design team.
The subterranean space would become an “analog room”: a studiously screen-free zone where the family could play board games together, practice instruments, listen to records or just lounge about lazily, undistracted by devices.
For decades, we’ve celebrated the rise of the “smart home”—knobless, switchless, effortless and entirely orchestrated via apps.
But evidence suggests that screen-free “dumb” spaces might be poised for a comeback.
Many smart-home features are losing their luster as they raise concerns about surveillance and, frankly, just don’t function.
New York designer Christine Gachot said she’d never have to work again “if I had a dollar for every time I had a client tell me ‘my smart music system keeps dropping off’ or ‘I can’t log in.’ ”
Google searches for “how to reduce screen time” reached an all-time high in 2025. In the past four years on TikTok, videos tagged #AnalogLife—cataloging users’ embrace of old technology, physical media and low-tech lifestyles—received over 76 million views.
And last month, Architectural Digest reported on nostalgia for old-school tech : “landline in hand, cord twirled around finger.”
Catherine Price, author of “ How to Break Up With Your Phone,” calls the trend heartening.
“People are waking up to the idea that screens are getting in the way of real life interactions and taking steps through design choices to create an alternative, places where people can be fully present,” said Price, whose new book “ The Amazing Generation ,” co-written with Jonathan Haidt, counsels tweens and kids on fun ways to escape screens.
From both a user and design perspective, the Pattersons consider their analog room a success.
Freed from the need to accommodate an oversize television or stuff walls with miles of wiring, their design team—BarnesVanze Architects and designer Colman Riddell—could get more creative, dividing the space into discrete music and game zones.
Ellen’s octogenarian parents, who live nearby, often swing by for a round or two of the Stock Market Game, an eBay-sourced relic from Ellen’s childhood that requires calculations with pen and paper.
In the music area, James’s collection of retro Fender and Gibson guitars adorn walls slicked with Farrow & Ball’s Card Room Green , while the ceiling is papered with a pattern that mimics the organic texture of vintage Fender tweed.
A trio of collectible amps cluster behind a standing mic—forming a de facto stage where family and friends perform on karaoke nights. Built-in cabinets display a Rega turntable and the couple’s vinyl record collection.
“Playing a game with family or doing your own little impromptu karaoke is just so much more joyful than getting on your phone and scrolling for 45 minutes,” said James.

Screen-Free ‘Escapes’
“Dumb” design will likely continue to gather steam, said Hans Lorei, a designer in Nashville, Tenn., as people increasingly treat their homes “less as spaces to optimise and more as spaces to retreat.”
Case in point: The top-floor nook that designer Jeanne Hayes of Camden Grace Interiors carved out in her Connecticut home as an “offline-office” space.
Her desk? A periwinkle beanbag chair paired with an ottoman by Jaxx. “I hunker down here when I need to escape distractions from the outside world,” she explained.
“Sometimes I’m scheming designs for a project while listening to vinyl, other times I’m reading the newspaper in solitude. When I’m in here without screens, I feel more peaceful and more productive at the same time—two things that rarely go hand in hand.”
A subtle archway marks the transition into designer Zoë Feldman’s Washington, D.C., rosy sunroom—a serene space she conceived as a respite from the digital demands of everyday life.
Used for reading and quiet conversation, it “reinforces how restorative it can be to be physically present in a room without constant input,” the designer said.
Laura Lubin, owner of Nashville-based Ellerslie Interiors, transformed a tiny guest bedroom in her family’s cottage into her own “wellness room,” where she retreats for sound baths, massages and reflection.
“Without screens, the room immediately shifts your nervous system. You’re not multitasking or consuming, you’re just present,” said Lubin.
As a designer, she’s fielding requests from clients for similar spaces that support mental health and rest, she said.
“People are overstimulated and overscheduled,” she explained. “Homes are no longer just places to live—they’re expected to actively support well-being.”
Designer Molly Torres Portnof of New York’s DATE Interiors adopted the same brief when she designed a music room for her husband, owner of the labels Greenway Records and Levitation, in their Lido Beach, N.Y. home. He goes there nightly to listen to records or play his guitar.
The game closet from the townhouse in “The Royal Tenenbaums”? That idea is back too, says Gachot. Last year she designed an epic game room backed by a rock climbing wall for a young family in Montana.
When you’re watching a show or on your phone, “it’s a solo experience for the most part,” the designer said. “The family really wanted to encourage everybody to do things together.”

Analog Accessories
Don’t have the space—or the budget—to kit out an entire retro rec room?
“There are a lot of small tweaks you can make even if you don’t have the time, energy or budget to design a fully analog room from scratch,” said Price.
Gachot says “the small things in people’s lives are cues of what the bigger trends are.”
More of her clients, she’s noticed, have been requesting retrograde staples, such as analog clocks and magazine racks.
For her Los Angeles living room, chef Sara Kramer sourced a vintage piano from Craigslist to be the room’s centerpiece, rather than sacrifice its design to the dominant black box of a smart TV. Alabama designer Lauren Conner recently worked with a client who bought a home with a rotary phone.
Rather than rip it out, she decided to keep it up and running, adding a silver receiver cover embellished with her grandmother’s initials.
Some throwback accessories aren’t so subtle. Melia Marden was browsing listings from the Public Sale Auction House in Hudson, N.Y. when she spotted a phone booth from Bell Systems circa the late 1950s and successfully bid on it for a few hundred dollars.
“It was a pandemic impulse buy,” said Marden.
In 2023, she and her husband, Frank Sisti Jr., began working with designer Elliot Meier and contractor ReidBuild to integrate the booth into what had been a hallway linen closet in their Brooklyn townhouse.
Canadian supplier Old Phone Works refurbished the phone and sold them the pulse-to-tone converter that translates the rotary dial to a modern phone line.
The couple had collected a vintage whimsical animal-adorned wallpaper (featured in a different colourway in “Pee-wee’s Playhouse”) and had just enough to cover the phone booth’s interior.
Their children, ages 9 and 11, don’t have their own phones, so use the booth to communicate with family. It’s also become a favorite spot for hiding away with a stack of Archie comic books.
The booth has brought back memories of meandering calls from Marden’s own youth—along with some of that era’s simple joy. As Meier puts it: “It’s got this magical wardrobe kind of feeling.”

