How recycled plastic got chic
Think recycled plastic has to be ugly as all hell? Think again.
A recycled plastic chair doesn’t sound like the most aesthetically-driven piece in the room, does it? Maybe your first thought is of a big, dumpy chunk of furniture the colour of mince, heavy and lacklustre, its visual appeal clearly the last thing on the designer’s mind. And, let’s be clear here, a lot of recycled stuff didn’t used to be, how shall we put this, the ‘bonniest’. But that is fast changing, and there are a bunch of designers making it their mission to make recycled plastic beautiful – and nailing it.
On the cusp of Queen’s Park on Glasgow’s southside, Still Life recycle plastic into sumptuous objects that belie their humble origins – there are stools and trays, sculptural vases and elegant candlesticks, some decorated with speckles like colourful, candied Hundreds and Thousands, others boasting glorious colour in big, bold splodges, like yesterday’s paint left on a palette.
When asked about the former world of ‘ugly’ recycled plastic objects, co-owner Will Jenkinson, who runs Still Life with best mate Aaron Ziggy, says, “I think that stems from the practice of recycling being started and initiated by activists – people who want to make change in the world, but who might not necessarily have been to art or design school, so the aesthetic element is secondary.” For Still Life, the purpose was to go one stage further, “We set out to make the object more beautiful than its original source – to elevate and add value to it,” says Jenkinson. He notes how customers are often surprised that their objects are made from not just recycled materials, but recycled plastic – probably the most derided material in everyday use today. “A lot of people, when we show them our stuff, are like ‘Oh? That’s plastic?!’ It makes them question the value they attribute to the material.”
And they’re not the only designers beautifying plastic. Also in Glasgow, Ocean Plastic Pots, run by commercial diver Ally Mitchell, transforms discarded fishing nets, ropes, and plastic he collects from the beach, into pretty oceanic-toned pots and saucers, perfect for growing plants. Their aesthetic simplicity conceals a complex past, and they can be recycled again, if needed.
Collaboration is becoming increasingly key. For their dough scrapers, Still Life teamed up with London-based Tim Westley of Clement Knives, who forges robust knives coveted by chefs internationally. His blades are made from spent pieces of metal – old magnets found on the canal, shotgun shells from the shooting range… – and he makes the handles by recycling plastic himself inhouse. They are ethical works of art fused with supreme functionality.
What links these designers, too, is their shared passion and appreciation for Precious Plastic, the plastic-recycling initiative based on the ‘teach a man to fish’ philosophy. Started by Dutch industrial designer Dave Hakkens in 2012, through this game-changing site, keen recyclers can learn how to recycle plastic themselves. It teaches everything from how to build the machines to break down plastic down into something malleable and with newfound potential, to how this process can actually make people money while doing something good for the world at the same time.
It’s about business for good, rather than greed, and it’s become an entire movement. “A lot of people hate what they’re doing,” says Wilkinson. “But we’ve found something we love to do, that hopefully is making some kind of difference, or changing some people’s minds.”
Recycled plastics story
Studio Vans Journal
By Freya Herring