Growth Glory

Katarzyna Jaroszyńska

 

What exactly was included in an email about the axe? Why does the expression on the manufacturer’s face matter, and their names were hidden for 10 years of working together? We asked and got answers from Katarzyna Kabo and Tomasz Pydo, designers and founders of Kabo & Pydo. 

 

 

We agreed to meet at their office, located in a tenement building in Warsaw’s Ochota district. The conversation will happen in the room where Kasia usually works from. “I’m an introvert – she comments – I like to lock myself in here and work in peace. Tomek, as an extrovert, sits with the team,” she explains.

Before the meeting, I received a request to send a list of sample questions. When I arrived, it turned out that they both had written answers to these questions on sheets of paper. On the table, there was water and snacks. My first thought? It was long ago since I last seen someone that prepared. It’s endearing, but at the same time, it points out to a fact that my interviewees are incredibly organized people.

“Kasia likes to plan spontaneity,” Tomek laughs.

“I often take into account that the plan may change. Then I’m prepared for it and can calmly juggle deadlines or tasks,” she adds. 

“Kasia has a strong sense of responsibility that runs in her family. I learned that from her.”

Is this the decisive element of the success of the Kabo & Pydo design-strategy studio? The founders met while studying design at the Academy of Fine Arts in Warsaw. Tomek was older and more experienced, so Kasia asked him for help with a project. Over time, that project grew so much that today they are married, run a studio employing several people, serve a dozen clients annually, and have numerous industry awards under their belt, including Red Dot and must have award.

The first product they designed as Kabo & Pydo was garden sprinklers. The recognition came right away with the Red Dot award for the sprinklers. At the same time, they found themselves pigeonholed for 10 years as “garden tools and equipment” designers. Since then, they’ve designed quick connectors, water distributors, rakes, shovels, and even construction lasers. “We may have been pigeonholed, but I still felt a lot of satisfaction designing only tools or devices,” Tomek says. “For the first few years, we fought against being labeled as artists. Companies wanted to grow and heard that it was cool to collaborate with designers, but at first, they treated us like out-of-touch artists who would design something impossible to implement.”

 

 

Usually, it meant that for the first two hours of a meeting, they had to convince manufacturers that they understood their desire to make a profit from the product. They learned by try and error how to conduct such mediations since, at the university, the business part of design work wasn’t discussed much. Education focused on the importance of the product for the end-user, issues like eco-friendliness and up-to-dateness, while the investor’s needs were pushed to the side. “Over time, we realized that we needed to speak the language of business so the manufacturer would feel confident with us,” the designers add.

Fast forward to the present day, I’m curious to know how do potential clients view them today? “They think we’re engineers,” laughs Kasia. “And a designer, in my opinion, is someone between an artist and an engineer.”

I ask if collaborating with domestic manufacturers give them opportunities to grow. “There’s this sterotype that Poles copy rather than invent. And indeed, there are only a handful of companies known for being innovative,” Tomek replies. “We encounter companies with a lot of potential, but they’re afraid to take risks. When we propose something new, they say they haven’t seen it anywhere on the market, so it won’t sell.”

The reason is simple. Being a leader requires developing a large product development department and a research department that studies materials, technologies, and market potential. This is very expensive. So, Polish manufacturers prefer to wait for someone else to do it first and then do something similar.

“Still, we always propose something innovative, but we can’t force anyone if they’re not ready for it,” Kasia clarifies. “However, we always manage to convince them to adopt innovations in terms of usability or functionality. On a Polish scale, we can grow, but on a global scale, we could do more. Our potential isn’t fully realized.”

 

 

After 10 years, they started designing other products besides tools. “The breakthrough was lamps: the glass Boya, the woven Blanket, the wire Medusa, and the Jungle lamp-planter. Plus, the client allowed us to express ourselves artistically. These are bold designs that stand out in the market and have a chance to succeed globally,” Kasia lists. “After the lamps, more proposals began to come in. Currently, we’re designing wooden tables and plastic garden chairs.”

Kabo & Pydo notice that the market is looking for new names, and they are a fresh brand in the interior design industry. At the same time, they have a large portfolio, design experience, and social proof of it in the form of awards. 

“In the furniture industry, people build their reputations, while in the industrial sector, there’s a tendency to overlook designers. Companies don’t even want to credit the authors of designs in competition submissions. It’s not ill-will on the manufacturers’ part, but rather the fact that in this industry, the competition is in the technology,” explains Tomek.

As designers, they have the know-how. Manufacturers are afraid that if their competitors hire them, they’ll show them how to do things even better. The result? After 10 years in the industry, people still were asking who is Kabo & Pydo. “That bothered me,” Tomek admits. “We knew we were making products that were breaking new ground, winning awards for innovative solutions, but we weren’t visible. The only solution was to enter the furniture industry.”