Samsung has sparked widespread excitement with its latest teaser campaign, signaling a potential design evolution for the highly anticipated Galaxy Z Fold 8. By wiping most of its previous Instagram posts and replacing them with cryptic visuals and phrases such as “new shape, new joy,” the company has set the stage for what could be […]
The post What the First Galaxy Z Fold 8 Wide Teaser Reveals About Samsung’s Next Move appeared first on Geeky Gadgets.
When you first see the Flipper One, it’s clear something has changed. Its predecessor, the Flipper Zero, had the playful, almost toy-like charm of a 90s gadget. It was clever, compact, and just a little bit mischievous. The Flipper One, by contrast, is not playing around. With its exposed metal, ruggedized shell, and dense, purposeful form, it looks less like a hacker’s Tamagotchi and more like something you’d find bolted to the dashboard of a military vehicle. The design language has become, in the words of Flipper’s CEO Pavel Zhovner, “sharper, smarter, more cunning, more brutal.”
The source of this aesthetic shift isn’t another cyberpunk movie. While the team’s love for William Gibson’s Johnny Mnemonic is still part of the lore, the Flipper One’s design was shaped by a much more tangible artifact. “There was a very tangible, physical reference this time too,” Zhovner explains in an exclusive interview with Yanko Design, “the Yaesu FT-897D radio transceiver. It’s serious field communications equipment.” That single object unlocks the entire story behind the Flipper One’s aggressive new form. The team’s earliest prototypes, he notes, were shaped by hand in polymer clay to mimic the radio’s rugged, function-first ergonomics, and even then, they “looked remarkably close to it.”
Designers: Pavel Zhovner & Flipper Devices
Yaesu FT-897D radio transceiver
This move from fiction to field equipment wasn’t just a stylistic choice; it was a direct response to the device’s new capabilities. The core challenge in creating the Flipper One wasn’t about living up to the Zero’s reputation, but a years-long technical quest. “For years, we were chasing the right balance between performance, battery life, and price,” Zhovner recalls. Every processor they considered “forced a compromise we weren’t willing to make.” The breakthrough finally came with the arrival of the RK3576 chip. “The moment we looked at its performance specs and peripheral support, we knew – this was it.”
But that power came at a cost: heat. “Unlike Flipper Zero, Flipper One runs hot,” Zhovner says. Suddenly, the housing couldn’t just be a passive shell; it had to become an active part of the thermal solution. This is where the Yaesu’s design influence became critical. The rugged, armored look isn’t just for show. “The metal elements are doing real thermal work, acting as part of the cooling system,” Zhovner points out. The design team decided to lean into this necessity, creating a device that visually communicates its own power and thermal demands. The Flipper One wears its cooling system like armor because, in a very real sense, it is.
This philosophy of brutal honesty extends to the iconic dolphin mascot, which has also evolved. It’s now sharper, more angular, and decidedly less friendly – a reflection of the smarter, more powerful machine it represents. This commitment to a cohesive design language is rooted in the team’s belief in their core visual element. “We’re simply in love with our aggressive triangle,” Zhovner states. “It was never up for debate.” The goal was to preserve that instant recognizability while adapting it to a more demanding set of functional requirements.
Preliminary clay model of the Flipper One
The device’s functionality was also shaped by hard-won lessons from the Flipper Zero. One of the biggest takeaways was that expandability should never come at the expense of usability. “With Flipper Zero, the moment you plug in any module, the whole experience degrades,” Zhovner admits. “It becomes harder to carry and pocket, and the port takes a beating over time.” For Flipper One, this led to a strict design mandate: modules had to integrate seamlessly. The team landed on two types – M.2 and GPIO – both designed to either “disappear completely under the back cover, or they extend flush along the rear surface.” It’s a small detail that reveals a mature approach to product design, focused on the realities of daily use.
Ultimately, the Flipper One’s serious, function-driven design is meant to signal that it’s an entirely different kind of tool. Zhovner is quick to clarify that this isn’t a replacement for the Flipper Zero. Instead, the two devices operate on different technological layers. Flipper Zero is a “Layer 0” offline tool for NFC, RFID, and other low-level interfaces. Flipper One is a “Layer 1” IP/network cyberdeck – a pocket-sized, open Linux computer. It can be a portable gateway, a smart home hub, a media center, or a radio platform for listening to everything from pilot communications to satellites.
By grounding its design in the world of serious hardware, Flipper has created a device that feels less like a controversial gadget and more like a piece of portable infrastructure. It’s a tool that, despite its aggressive looks, is designed to be quietly useful, whether as a travel router in a hotel or a honeypot sensor guarding your home network. The Flipper One’s journey from a clay model inspired by a ham radio to a finished cyberdeck is a story of a company, and a product, that is growing up.
The post Flipper One Behind The Scenes: “Sharper, Smarter, More Cunning, Brutal” says Flipper CEO first appeared on Yanko Design.
The Titlis Tower was never meant to be beautiful. That’s what makes what Herzog & de Meuron have done with it so compelling — a project that says more with restraint than most buildings say at full volume. The 56-meter-high antenna tower was built in the mid-1980s by the Swiss postal service, originally serving as a functional node in the country’s telecom network.
It sat largely ignored above the resort town of Engelberg, visible but inaccessible, a steel remnant of an analog era. Mount Titlis, the peak it crowns, draws approximately 1.1 million visitors per year — yet the tower itself offered nothing to any of them. That tension between presence and uselessness is what the commission set out to resolve.
Designer: Herzog & de Meuron
In 2017, Herzog & de Meuron was brought in to renew the mountain station and transform the tower into part of the tourist offering — a brief that sat within a broader masterplan for the entire summit, including a redesigned cable car station. Co-founder Pierre de Meuron framed the approach around “resource-conscious development of the existing infrastructure,” which in practice meant keeping what was already there and building only what was necessary. No demolition. No tabula rasa. Just a sharp architectural gesture inserted into a structure that already belonged to the mountain.
The transformation sees two cantilevered glass-and-steel volumes inserted crosswise into the existing antenna mast, creating the tower’s now-iconic cross-shaped silhouette. Four vertical circulation volumes handle movement through the structure. The result is a form that feels both ancient and entirely new — a cross, yes, but also a compass, a landmark, a thing that seems to orient itself against the horizon. Inside, the two horizontal bodies house a restaurant, a bar, and exhibition space, all of it delivered at over 3,000 meters above sea level, with glacier views on every axis.
Completed in 2026, the tower is the first element of the wider TITLIS Project to be realized, and it sets a high bar for everything that follows. What makes it land is the discipline behind the concept. Herzog & de Meuron didn’t try to compete with the Alps — they let the existing structure carry the weight and introduced just enough to make it habitable, legible, and genuinely spectacular. The tower was already a landmark. Now it finally knows it.
The post Herzog & de Meuron Just Made a 1980s Antenna Tower the Most Exciting Building in the Alps first appeared on Yanko Design.
There are moments in design when your first thought isn’t “how does it work” but “how does it feel.” Hikarigami is one of those objects. Created by four Harvard Graduate School of Design students, Luke Fiorante, Joseph Fujinami, Annie Xing, and Chi Zhang, it’s a luminaire that looks, at first glance, like an intricate metal tower carved by a very patient and very precise hand. But the story behind it is far more interesting than the object alone, and the object itself is already extraordinary.
The name is a portmanteau of two Japanese words: hikari, meaning light, and kirigami, the traditional art of cutting and folding a single sheet of material into three-dimensional form. The fusion isn’t just poetic; it’s structural. The team took that ancient paper-craft logic and translated it into sheet aluminum, using an industrial robotic arm to press, deform, and expand the metal into a lattice of thousands of individual cells. Each cell is unique. Each one catches light differently. And every fold was made without a mold.
Designers: Luke Fiorante, Joseph Fujinami, Annie Xing, Chi Zhang
That last part is the quiet revolution tucked inside this project. Traditional metal forming depends on expensive, custom-made dies and molds, static tools that lock a design into one fixed shape and require significant capital before a single piece can be produced. Hikarigami throws that model out entirely. The team developed a custom script called Machina, which programs the robot to adjust its actuation depth for every single cell in the lattice. Because the cells vary in size across the panel, a uniform press would cause the metal to fail. The script scales the force to each cell’s geometry, working right up to the material’s yield limit without crossing it. It’s precision at a scale that a human hand simply couldn’t replicate.
But precision isn’t the point. Craft is. The team was genuinely asking whether robotic automation could learn the intuitions of handmaking: the responsiveness to material, the calibration to context, the sense that a gesture should change depending on where you are in the process. Most industrial fabrication doesn’t care about any of that. Hikarigami does. And to me, that’s the more interesting question.
The result is a tower made of six identical aluminum panels with no fasteners, no adhesives. The panels interlock through tabs built directly into the geometry, which means the whole assembly is a single material: pure aluminum, fully recyclable, and designed to age gracefully. The team noted that over time, the aluminum will develop a patina shaped by its environment. The lamp doesn’t resist change. It participates in it.
When you turn it on, the experience shifts completely. During the day, Hikarigami reads as architectural, almost industrial, the kind of object that would feel at home in a gallery or a thoughtfully designed living space. At night, with the central LED filament lit, the aluminum skin opens up. The thousands of robotically formed apertures cast overlapping pools of shadow and caustic highlights across every nearby surface. The room becomes part of the lamp. The lamp becomes the room.
It’s worth noting that this is a student project, and I find that genuinely refreshing. It won in the sustainability category at one of design’s most respected annual competitions, and it also picked up a notable distinction in furniture and lighting. For work produced inside an academic program, the level of technical and conceptual rigor here is striking. Beyond the accolades, Hikarigami feels significant because it takes a position. It argues, quietly but clearly, that sustainable design doesn’t have to mean sacrificing beauty or experimentation. That mold-free fabrication can be expressive. That a robot can be a collaborator, not a replacement.
The team divided their roles with intention: Xing led computational design and fabrication, Fiorante handled robotic toolpath programming, Fujinami managed structural assembly, and Zhang contributed to the robotic fabrication process. Together they didn’t just design a lamp. They designed a process, and the lamp emerged from it. That’s the kind of thinking that tends to outlast the object itself.
The post Harvard Students Built a Lamp That Taught a Robot to Make Art first appeared on Yanko Design.
Many of us would remember the New Balance Niobium Concept 1. Launched back in 2020, the modular silhouette really reformed outdoor footwear with its multi-functional design, which allowed it to be used in more than one way. Of course, many brands have been approaching modular footwear design with the idea of a circular economy in mind, where the shoe can be taken apart for recycling convenience. However, New Balance’s approach is different.
It is working on a pair of shoes that can actually pull off not two but at least three different purposes. This was substantiated by the Niobium Concept 1, which is now flowing as inspiration into the newly launched New Balance TDS MSNB1, which offers similar capabilities but in a new form and colors.
Designer: New Balance
A bold intersection of craftsmanship, innovation, and functionality, the TDS MSNB1 is a revival of the Niobium Concept 1, pulled off in partnership by New Balance and Tokyo Design Studio Revive. The remarkable New Balance adaptability of the silhouette is retained with the addition of Tokyo Design Studio’s signature lifestyle aesthetics to form this shoe that changes shape in “three distinct stages of wear.” It can be worn as a rugged waterproof boot and become a functional outdoor mule when required. When you finally retire to the cozy comforts of the camp, it can also be used as a comfortable indoor slipper.
The modular nature of the TDS MSNB1 is ensured by the use of a specialized system of zippers that run down the tongue and around the heel. These zippers allow the wearer to easily assemble or disassemble the shoe’s components according to the activity or the time of day.
New Balance TDS MSNB1 modular silhouette is available in two colorways. While the TDS MSNB1 Zinc Blue is somewhere close to the tested territories, the Pistachio Butter colorway – in a muted yellow-green – is more enticing and distinct. Both the versatile shoes share the same design language. They comprise a stretch rip-stop upper, a neoprene collar, and welded PU overlays. The tongue is devoid of usual laces and features bungee elastic laces inside, while a zipper runs down the side of the tongue and around the heel.
For its durability as a camping boot, it features an eVent waterproof membrane and a rubber outsole for comfort. Since the design and functionality remain the same, your choice of color is what can make the difference between the two new offerings. You can make up your mind now. The New Balance TDS MSNB1 in both colorways is available starting today, July 2, with each costing $300.
The post New Balance’s 3-in-1 modular shoe transforms from waterproof boot to camp slipper, so you pack less first appeared on Yanko Design.
The Samsung Galaxy Watch Ultra 2 is poised to elevate the premium smartwatch experience. Building on the strong foundation of its predecessor, this next-generation wearable introduces notable advancements in performance, health tracking and design. Scheduled for its official unveiling at the Galaxy Unpacked event on July 22, 2026, the Galaxy Watch Ultra 2 aims to […]
The post What to Expect From Samsung’s Galaxy Watch 9 and Ultra 2 at July Unpacked appeared first on Geeky Gadgets.
Most furniture with a sustainability story asks you to make a trade. You sacrifice the aesthetics for the ethics, and you call it a choice well made. The RE-UP Side Table by Thai design studio TAKEHOMEDESIGN is quietly rewriting that agreement. It is not asking you to settle. It is asking you to look at a food delivery container and actually see something beautiful. That is a harder ask than it sounds.
TAKEHOMEDESIGN, founded by designer Paphop Wongpanich and based in Bangkok, has been producing furniture that blends Thai craftsmanship with a globally informed design sensibility for over a decade. The RE-UP collection is the studio’s most pointed statement yet. The bases of these side tables are made entirely from moulded plastic waste, sourced from two material streams: polycarbonate from industrial sources, and post-consumer polypropylene pulled from food packaging and delivery containers. Thailand generates more than 2 million tons of plastic waste annually, and a significant portion of that comes from exactly the kind of single-use containers most of us forget about the moment we toss them out. TAKEHOMEDESIGN is pulling them back.
Designer: TAKEHOMEDESIGN
What makes the RE-UP particularly interesting from a design perspective is how unapologetically honest it is about its materials. The polycarbonate bases carry a frosted glass-like finish that reads as sleek and almost architectural. The polypropylene versions, on the other hand, reveal a visibly shredded texture beneath the surface, and when some of the designs are lit from within with soft internal illumination, that texture catches the light in a way that feels more like art than furniture. It is the kind of detail you would notice and then have to explain to a guest, which I think is exactly the point. Good design should give you something to say.
The tabletops bring a contrasting layer of naturalness. Options include rubberwood shaped using traditional Thai woodworking techniques, recycled UHT milk cartons (yes, really), clear tempered glass, and marble. The rubberwood itself is a byproduct of Thailand’s rubber industry, which means the sustainability thinking extends beyond just the base. For those who want a warmer tone overall, coffee grounds are used to tint the base in a mocha finish, which is either a very clever material choice or a very good piece of storytelling, possibly both.
I genuinely appreciate when design does not try to hide where it came from. There is a category of sustainable product that scrubs its origin story clean, presenting itself as simply tasteful and letting the eco credentials live quietly in a footnote. RE-UP is the opposite of that. The process is the product. The texture of the shredded plastic, the slight translucency of the base, the warm unevenness that tells you this did not come from a conventional mold. These are not flaws being forgiven. They are the design.
The collection won the BIG SEE Product Design Award 2026 in the Furniture for Living Spaces category, a European design recognition that signals this work is resonating well beyond its home market. TAKEHOMEDESIGN has also shown at the HD Expo in Las Vegas, which suggests the studio is thinking seriously about hospitality and commercial interiors alongside the residential buyer. It is the kind of traction that tends to follow studios that say something real with their work.
The RE-UP also extends into pendant lights and coffee tables, so it is not a singular statement piece floating in isolation. It is a liveable system, and that matters. A design philosophy only scales when you can actually build a room around it. For something born from a takeout container, it holds up remarkably well.
The post Thailand Just Turned Food Delivery Waste Into Actual Furniture first appeared on Yanko Design.