Fragments of the future: how circular design can reimagine waste

Sabbia Terrazzo,texture by ARCHITEXTURES

Venice, 16th century. An apprentice kneels on worn flagstones, gathering marble fragments scattered across a workshop floor: cast-offs from grand buildings, broken statues, forgotten tiles. In the courtyard, these remnants are mixed with cement, spread across a terrace, then polished until the surface gleams. What was rubble becomes terrazzo: a floor that remembers every sculpture, staircase, and cornice it once was. It is a surface shaped by what came before. Every chip embedded in the surface held a memory of something once whole: a sculpture’s cast-off, a ruined column, a builder’s leftover stone.

Long before "reuse" became a catchword in sustainability reports, the ethic of transforming waste into value lived in such practices. Craftspeople understood that discarded materials were not burdens but resources to be honoured. This principle left its fingerprints across cultures: in the patchwork boro textiles of Japan, where fabric scraps were transformed into layered quilts that became visible records of generational resourcefulness; in the pietra dura of Mughal India, where artisans salvaged precious stones to create intricate inlaid patterns that adorn the Taj Mahal; in the "spolia" stonework of medieval Rome, where columns and capitals from fallen pagan temples were repurposed into Christian churches, allowing ancient materials to tell new stories.

A genealogy of this thinking stretches through to today. Demolition debris, olive pits, spent coffee grounds, and fruit husks become starting points for new, durable products. Forward-thinking companies are asking: what overlooked abundance lies in the piles that others discard? Here we follow these modern makers – exploring how they are reimagining waste streams into beautiful, valuable, and culturally rich materials.

Rubble that remembers

Recycled Masonry Terrazzo 1001-mg-4-8,texture by Diggels

Diggels mines the rubble of disaster and renewal. Founded by designers Volken de Vlas and Gerard de Hoop of Studio Volop, this Dutch initiative transforms construction and demolition waste – one of the world's largest waste streams – into premium surface materials. In earthquake-affected regions and ordinary demolition sites alike, they gather the remnants of demolished buildings – brickwork, roof coverings, concrete, tiles – and craft terrazzo-like surfaces that carry the physical and emotional memory of the place.

“In northern NL, minor earthquakes created new waste streams. We decided to use them,” says Victor Kroeske. By working with recyclers and concrete producers, Diggels aims to keep construction materials in permanent circulation. Their terrazzo contains 60–75% recycled content, including building debris, local shells, and glass.

The journey hasn't been without challenges. "It's a natural product just like marble, but informing consumers that there can be variation is difficult, since people are used to fake, plastic products that are always consistent," Victor notes.

Place-based waste

Koukoutsi Board, Terracotta Concrete,texture by Koukos de Lab

Koukos de Lab transforms one of the Mediterranean's most plentiful by-products into a distinctive eco-material. Founded by designers Irene Moutsoyiannis and Christos Ververis during the global pause of 2020, the studio found inspiration in the abundant olive groves surrounding their workshop in Megalochori, a mountainous village on the Greek island of Lesvos.

"We approach it like a collaboration with nature and with the material itself," explains Christos. Their signature creation – Koukoutsi-Eco Material, named after the Greek word for "core" – gives new life to what was previously considered mere biowaste: the olive pits and cores left behind after olive oil production.

The result is a distinctive surface material resembling an earthy terrazzo, with warm, organic tones and natural patterning that connects interior spaces to the agricultural heritage of Lesvos – an island home to over 11 million olive trees. Koukoutsi can be applied as a coating for large or small surfaces or used as the primary material for furniture pieces and decorative objects. Housed in a restored village coffee shop, the studio itself embodies their ethos: honouring what’s local, and giving the overlooked a second life.

The daily grind

Dark Husk Coffee Waste Surface,texture by KAVA

KAVA brings a spirit of curiosity and openness to their materials, asking: what if nothing is truly ever "waste"? Their innovation is an organic, plastic-free composite material made entirely from substances most would discard without a second thought.

"There are no discarded materials in our universe," reflects Jani Lemut at KAVA. "Anything that exists is just a certain combination of elements, put together." This philosophical approach drives their creative process – seeing spent coffee grounds not as the end of a consumption cycle, but as the beginning of a new material journey.

KAVA's distinctive surfaces are created through a specialised combination of coffee waste and other organic fibres – powdered fruit stones, crushed argan shells, walnut hulls – pressed onto chipboard or plywood using their unique formulation of natural binders. The resulting material offers designers a warm, textured alternative to conventional surfaces, with subtle speckled patterns in earth tones that reveal their origins.

Technological advances and looking sideways

Moon (EPO),texture by OTTAN

Sticking with food waste, OTTAN founder Ayşe Yılmaz recognised the potential in the 1.3 billion tons of annual food waste that contributes to 26% of global greenhouse gas emissions and developed alternatives to conventional building materials using common household waste products. "Much emphasis has been paid to recycling one material into the same material, but there are tremendous amounts of waste in the modern economy that goes ignored," explains Will Zhao at OTTAN. "These forgotten materials often carry great potential for something innovative and refreshing!"

Their materials offer textures synthetics can’t replicate. Hazelnut shells become warm, sound-absorbing panels; expired rice forms translucent sheets with subtle grain; eggshells yield smooth, calcium-rich tiles. Each piece reflects its organic origin.

By adapting their processes to utilise regional waste streams – from coffee grounds to fruit rinds – OTTAN creates locally-relevant materials that connect users to their geographic context while reducing dependence on virgin, faraway resources. "We're proud to be part of the solution rather than the problem," Will states.

Plastic memories

RE-CD, Dancing Pearls,texture by Revive

In Bristol, Revive transforms obsolete CDs into RE-CD, a striking terrazzo-like material made from 100% recycled discs. “It all started with an interest in ‘future wastes’—the materials and products that quickly become obsolete,” says co-founder Kieran Devlin. These once-futuristic objects—now largely discarded in the age of streaming—are shredded, melted, and reformed without resins or additives. The result is a sheet material that glints with unexpected depth: at first glance, it resembles granite; up close, flecks of rainbow and reflective silver hint at its past life spinning inside stereos and computers.

The result resembles stone from afar but reveals glints of rainbow and metallic sheen up close. “Creativity and flexibility are key to making bespoke pieces that tell a story of sustainability,” Kieran adds. Recent projects include table legs for a Netflix venue, made from over 25,000 CDs. “More clients now want responsible, eco-friendly options that don’t compromise on style.”

The rise of material stories

These innovations ride a cultural wave toward authenticity, locality, and sustainability. Today's consumers seek materials with visible stories – surfaces flecked with coffee grounds or brick dust – that offer emotional depth beyond the sterile sameness of conventional synthetics. This growing appetite for provenance reflects a broader rejection of anonymous, mass-produced environments.

Circular economy policies are helping drive this transition at a systemic level. In Belgium, the “Be Circular Be Brussels" initiative stimulates a low-carbon circular economy by ensuring it is a source of job creation and opportunity, through grants, resources and support. The programme has been instrumental in elevating start-ups and traditional industries alike. Elsewhere in Europe, the Netherlands' "Raw Materials Agreement" lays out a national framework for transitioning to a circular economy by 2050, supported by public-private partnerships and sector-specific roadmaps. Italy's "Made Green in Italy" labelling system offers companies the ability to certify their environmental performance using standardised life-cycle assessments. These policies are beginning to make circularity a baseline expectation, rather than an exception.

Meanwhile, tightening regulations on waste and carbon emissions push businesses toward truly circular solutions. Yet pioneers face real challenges: sourcing variability, certification hurdles, and market education. Success requires not just technical proof but compelling narratives that help others see waste as possibility.

Materials that matter

Ultimately, consumers and industries alike are moved by materials with stories – waste transformed not just into something useful, but something meaningful. In practice, this approach yields spaces where materials become conversation pieces. At Athens' Golden Sun Hotel, Koukoutsi-Eco Material olive pit composites from Koukos de Lab tell the story of Mediterranean agriculture and innovation in the hotel rooms. KAVA's coffee-based panels transform Hong Kong's Fabrica X retail space, where counters constructed from upcycled grounds connect customers to global consumption cycles through touch and texture.

We are relearning what those Venetian artisans already knew: that circularity is not a technological fix, but a worldview. One that sees value in the broken and fragmented. Stories that are embedded in stone, carried by dust, can be made whole again.

Ellen Peirson is an architect and writer based in London.