Astrid

Interior architect Joakim Nyström reached out to us while assisting Bar Montan with their new premises in the Slakthus area of Stockholm. The primary goal was to preserve the raw character of the old building and to match the textiles with that aesthetic. There was also inspiration drawn from Japanese design and the use of patchwork, which led to the incorporation of our leftover fabrics in creating draperies and curtains for the venue. We selected fabrics in nearly identical colour tones but with different textures—shiny, structured, transparent, and dense. We were truly inspired by the aesthetics, craftsmanship, and the architect's approach. Read Joakim’s own words about the process below.

The space we walked into already had so much character that there was no need to create a new ‘interior design concept’—it was already there. The room was layered with elements from different decades of use—a bit of a patchwork of tiles, plaster, and brick.

Joakim Nyström:
“The entire concept of Bar Montan, as the restaurant is called, was based on making the most of what was available. The budget was so tight that there really was no alternative. The space we walked into already had so much character that there was no need to create a new ‘interior design concept’—it was already there. The room was layered with elements from different decades of use—a bit of a patchwork of tiles, plaster, and brick.

Together with my colleague Johan Dehlin, I designed the venue and the permanent interior in close collaboration with the restaurateurs. What was particularly rewarding in this project was that from the outset, we assembled a team with various skills, allowing everyone to participate and have a say in the decision-making process. We collaborated with graphic designer Esteban Berrios Vargas and artist Björn Bengtsson. Alongside the restaurateurs, we crafted an expression that would permeate the entire concept—from menus and signage to interior design. From the start, we were very much aligned on where we wanted to go, though not necessarily on how it would look. It has evolved over time and continues to develop.

For me, it’s incredibly fulfilling to work with other professional groups right from the conceptual stage. While it might sound like a cliché, daring to let go and involve others in decision-making is something I truly believe in—and I know it’s important to me. It’s also what makes design enjoyable: allowing others in and being open to decisions I might not have made on my own. I like having an element of friction in the projects; it shows that I’ve dared to relinquish control. Over time, you start to understand what was truly important and what might have just been a fleeting industry trend.

I find most spaces in Stockholm to be over-designed, with rigid, watertight design concepts where the material palette is sacrosanct. With Bar Montan, we intentionally wanted to counter that approach and focus more on creating a certain atmosphere. It’s clear that it’s a designed space, but we wanted the interior to be secondary to the overall ambiance when people walked in. It might sound odd, but in most of the places where I feel most at home, I couldn’t tell you what kind of chairs or tables they have—I never paid attention to that. It’s so much more about the feeling.

When it came to the curtains, we knew from the start that we needed textiles—not just to visually soften the space but also for acoustic purposes. We began exploring where we could source large pieces of fabric and contacted Dramaten (the Royal Theatre) and Operan (the Opera), among others, to see if we could repurpose old backdrops. While we received a few suggestions, none felt right for the restaurant. We took a chance and asked if you had any leftover textiles we could use, and fortunately, you did. Given that everything you produce is of such high quality, we felt confident in letting you select the pieces you thought would work best.

When I received the fabrics from you, I started sketching a patchwork design with the different pieces, but it quickly felt too contrived. So, we sent all the textiles in sacks to RIBE, along with measurements for the curtains, and let Rita and her team sew them together as they saw fit. The only guidelines we provided were that the upper overlapping part should be made from transparent fabrics, while the lower part should mix opaque and transparent materials. The upper portion covers a window section we added to bring in light from the skylights in the adjacent room. The fabric for the entrance was crafted by artist Felix Ahlberg Eriksson.

For the bar area, which has a different colour scheme, we had less fabric to work with. So, I stood there with Rita, and we worked together to make the curtains fit with the remnants we had left—it was just enough. I wanted the most transparent fabric at eye level, and then I let her take the lead. The result turned out so much better than if I had made all the decisions myself.”

ABOUT WEAVING, IMPERFECTIONS, AND LEFTOVER FABRICS

A fabric is woven from yarns that are threaded onto a large loom, forming the warp, and are interlaced with a transverse yarn, the weft. With different types of bindings, these yarns together create the fabric. Depending on the fabric’s width and thickness, the number of yarns can range from hundreds to thousands. Often, the process runs smoothly, but since yarns are delicate, they can break, become tangled, or be misaligned in various ways. Additionally, fibre dust in the weaving factory can become embedded in the fabric. During the finishing process, unwanted stains and other unexpected flaws may also appear.

There are numerous ways that imperfections and minor flaws can occur in fabrics. Traditionally, the textile industry has viewed these as defects, rendering the fabric unusable, leading to those sections being cut off. However, we see these pieces as valuable resources. If these segments can be repurposed—whether as smaller curtains with discreet seams or as part of a patchwork curtain—resources are conserved. From an environmental perspective, reuse is always the preferred option, as recycling typically consumes more energy. Unfortunately, there is no straightforward method to recycle polyester fabrics into new textiles, which often results in these materials being incinerated for energy recovery. Currently, only 1% of fabrics collected for recycling are converted into new fibres.

In addition to flawed pieces, we also have leftover sections, such as the ends of rolls, which can vary in length. While we use some for samples, we have an excess of popular colours beyond our needs. Aside from samples, these pieces have been used for our Astrid bags and have been turned into rag rugs in collaboration with Vandra Rugs. We also donate to schools, primarily design schools but also to primary schools. We collaborate with architects and designers who wish to incorporate leftover fabrics into projects with a strong sustainability focus.

When it comes to our leftover upholstery and decorative fabrics, there are so many potential applications that it feels insufficient to simply call them leftovers. Beyond samples, we use these materials to create cushions, throws, tablecloths, and napkins, for example. However, we do have more than we can use and view these smaller pieces as somewhat of an administrative challenge—how do we manage them effectively to maximize their value without making the process overly time-consuming? We would love to find a solution together with a flexible partner.

Another category of our leftovers comes from making cutting samples—small fabric clippings that are perfect for use as filling material.

We are always curious and open-minded about the best ways to utilize leftover pieces. If you have a project and are interested in using our leftover fabrics, please get in touch. Send your request to [email protected]