Stella Harry Lee on Material Agency: Fish Skin, Mycelium, and the Art of Mindful Design


June 07, 2025 | Maya Bigirimana

Stella Harry Lee, a material and textile designer based in San Francisco, operates at the intersection of material behavior and systems thinking. Trained in fiber at the Maryland Institute College of Art, Lee’s approach to design was transformed during her attendance at Dutch Design Week in 2015. There, she encountered design philosophies that reshaped her understanding of sustainability. Rather than presenting design through categorical disciplines, institutions like the Design Academy Eindhoven offered a relational framework—one that considered humans, materials, and ecologies as interwoven. They just kind of went about talking about what would it mean to design with humans in mind when it comes to clothing? What does it mean to think about technology in mind when it comes to designing for humans” Lee reflects. This was a turning point that shifted her focus from the aesthetic or object-driven to the structural, philosophical, and emotional dimensions of making.






Amaranth on fabric

Lee’s practice blends speculative design with functional object-making, utilizing an array of regenerative materials to explore sustainability and consumption. Through works like the microgreen shoe, alongside biomaterials such as fish skin, mycelium, and shrimp shells, and repurposed materials like packaging, Lee exceeds conventional design by reconceptualizing discarded materials, particularly in a time when outdated production systems for essential goods fail to meet the urgent, pressing demands of a world grappling with environmental crisis and resource depletion. By elevating materials, Lee encourages a cultural shift toward mindfulness and creativity in the production of accessories and clothing. She demonstrates that alternatives to mass production are viable and essential, pushing for a future where sustainability is woven into the fabric of design. This perspective calls for a deeper introspection into the systems of production, consumption, and disposal that govern the fashion industry, urging a more thoughtful and inventive relationship with the materials we choose and the objects we create.

The fish skin bag is one of Lee’s most compelling pieces, marking a significant shift in her approach to desirability and material adoption. While the microgreen shoe explores experimental design, the fish skin bag brings these ideas into the realm of functional, wearable design. “Look at this crazy material you never thought you’d be able to see in a bag that you could wear. Here it is anyway,” Lee says. The fish skin bag encapsulates a central tension in Lee’s work: the disjunction between innovation and acceptance. For sustainable materials to become part of everyday life, they must move beyond the realm of experimentation and enter the world of consumer demand. 







“ Okay, well, it’s not just about promoting sustainability for the sake of saving the world. It’s about contemplating the relationships of each element that you’re surrounded by,”


In a time when the origins of what we create hold increasing significance, the need for transparency in material sourcing and production becomes essential, yet in the fashion industry, these processes are often deliberately concealed. Sourcing and production are rarely made visible, leaving the impact of what is made largely unexamined. Tracing and understanding the positive or negative consequences of production, infuses the process with meaning. While this approach remains uncommon, it holds the potential to awaken awareness, inspire change, and foster a more thoughtful, conscious approach to creation. Lee emphasizes the need to connect what happens behind the scenes —within labs, studios, and communities of designers—and what is accessible to consumers. The disconnect between innovation and public understanding remains a significant barrier. Lee has shifted her focus toward imagining new modes of production entirely. She collaborates with biomaterial innovators, artists, and designers to explore systems that depart from conventional industry logic—systems not built around volume and scalability, but around slowness, intention, and care. 

Lee reflects on her own relationship with luxury fashion, acknowledging the magnetic pull of brands like Dior, Gucci, and Prada. “I wanted to partake in that dream that those brands were selling… plainly speaking, and for lack of a better word, they were just beautiful, I really wanted them.” But as she scrutinized this desire, it became clear that fashion could no longer be understood through the lens of mere aspiration. “I was reading Alec Reach’s book, The World is on Fire But We Are Still Buying Shoes. He was really vulnerable in his book about his own consumption and how he tackled the desire part of our ego and identity. Why do we want these things, and why do we want to be perceived a certain way? It’s a cyclical thing for fashion and people in fashion, wanting to be part of a group, to be accepted.” Lee's reflection on the book adds a layer of introspection on consumer desire.  If both brands and consumers fail to adopt sustainable practices, the effort will lose its significance. This underscores the critical need for both to embrace these new values if change is to take hold. Without widespread adoption, sustainable practices risk remaining isolated, unable to reach their full potential. True transformation will require both sides to actively engage, forging a future where mindful production and consumption are not just possible, but the norm. In confronting the role of branded objects in shaping cultural value, Lee challenges the very foundation of consumer culture. Through past works, including her exploration of surplus packaging and gifted luxury waste, she confronts the psychological weight we place on what we own.







““I think to get to that point, we will continue to have to bridge the gap between consumers and what happens behind the labs, what happens within these communities of designers.”



Another crucial part of that response lies in community. In a field often fragmented and isolating, Lee recognizes the immense power of digital platforms in fostering solidarity. The relationships forged online have led to real-world collaborations, workshops, and mutual support across cities and continents, forming a network of like-minded practitioners. These connections provide vital affirmation, especially in moments when self-doubt arises. “Even when I sometimes question my own work, just having that affirmation from fellow designers is huge,” she reflects.

Lee also understands that many of the methods she and her peers employ—those rooted in experimentation, manual labor, and ecological sensitivity—don’t align easily with the mainstream systems of production. Brands and institutions often struggle to adapt to processes that resist speed or scale. Yet, rather than conform to these constraints, there is potential in this friction. “When we stick together and we’re able to imagine a new way of making for the future, like maybe we don’t know, maybe we can live in a world where we don’t need that much stuff, where it doesn’t have to be produced that much and it’s normalized,” she says. This vision challenges the existing norms of overproduction, suggesting that the future of design need not center around mass consumerism. 







In this way, Lee’s work pushes us toward not only a different approach to design, but a deeper understanding of the systems that govern our choices. Her practice calls for a shift in values, away from rapid consumption and toward slower, more intentional processes. “We have to educate others that might not be in fashion or might not be in the material world,” she concludes, underscoring the importance of expanding beyond niche communities and reaching a broader audience. Lee’s practice, both materially and philosophically, is a powerful call for creative agency, asking what it would take to close the distance between innovation and understanding, ultimately building better systems of meaning, trust, and education. We can cultivate a world where value is not just assigned to objects, but to the processes, care, and intention behind them.








A big thank you to Stella for offering such a rich and thoughtful conversation to share with the Kive community.



Stella Harry Lee

Learn More: https://stellaharrylee.com

Instagram: @stellaharrylee

Photo Credits: Stella Harry Lee