Designer Steffany Tran: The Texture of Remembrance

In previous interviews, you often mentioned your hobby of collecting random, seemingly inanimate objects. Have you ever found inspiration in those scavenged items?

Yes, of course! Inspiration is something that can manifest from anything; I’ve found myself stitching together ideas from everything to scrap fabric, to poetry I come across, or falling leaves in another city. For me, it’s always about further investigation and looking at things a little closer to uncover some magic, like an old abalone shell I found then tried to make an iridescent glaze based off it.

Looking back at NYCxDESIGN 2026, I saw that Vy Voi had an incredibly vibrant schedule, participating in about 5 different events and exhibition spaces - from Look Book Offsite at Host on Howard to independent art spaces. How did you feel after this series of events?

Last spring, I exhibited at Milan Design Week, New York Design Week and then Copenhagen for 3daysofdesign. I told myself I wouldn’t do that again as it was a bit draining doing so many events back to back.

I clearly lied to myself! (laugh)

With so many events, I have to treat these weeks like marathons from a mental and physical level, and give myself room to recharge and absorb what I saw. I would say the metric of success here is that I survived with my sanity intact, saw design friends in real life, and connected with clients new and old.

Read more: [NowGen] Architect and designer Nguyen Kieu Lam and structures that breathe

Amidst the hustle and bustle of one of the world's largest design weeks, was there a moment that made you feel moved or left a strong impression on you?

The moments that move you are seeing your peers carve out space for incredible new pieces around the world. I love to be immersed in my friends’ POVs. That’s the kind of stuff that really excites me, the community and camaraderie is what really shapes our design scenes and is ultimately to the benefit of us all when we can see and support each other off a digital screen.

You mentioned that you often go on a walk on different paths in the cities.  Does street life in New York or Ho Chi Minh City spark new ideas for you to perfect your work?

Always. The art of seeing is paramount to my practice! I am the biggest advocate of going for a walk. It is genuinely the solution to so many trivial problems. If I feel uninspired, I go for a walk. If I feel bummed out, I go for a walk. If I’m frustrated, I put on shoes and go for a walk.

When you see how people, creatures, and plants coalesce in the context of urban backdrops, you often see peculiar interactions. Weeds overgrowing sidewalk cracks, squirrels storing their finds in metal posts, rain sculpting copper surfaces. All of these micro scenes shape my work too. I layer glaze to mirror moss growing on trees, or I sketch forms of leaves blowing in the wind. It’s always worth paying attention to the minutiae, because you don’t know where it may lead you.

Are your works influenced by architecture, sculpture, painting..., or your emotional responses to art in general? And how is that passion reflected in your pieces?

For me, inspiration comes from everywhere and isn’t limited to a particular subject or context. It’s hardly ever linear or consistent of where it comes from. What I will say is that I am a heavy reader, instinctually following trails and rabbit holes when something peaks my curiosity. This has often led me to disparate places: idiom origins, textile techniques, or sea animal hierarchies.  Sometimes that leads directly to new ideas, such as tapestry concepts, and other times it’s more about keeping my brain alive and exploratory. I always try to follow threads that are exciting because that’s when I do my best work.

How did you manage to define your own design language? Something that would make people exclaim, “This is the work of Steffany and Vy Voi.”

My design language is what I call “contained comfort” : soft lines, gentle surfaces, and natural materials. I don't think of them as guard rails necessarily, but as guidelines. What I hope to achieve with my works is this feeling of tenderness in the everyday, through forms you want to hold or illuminate a space warmly.

I also believe in subtle but striking surfaces that invite you to come a little closer, like the fibers in Dó paper or the transitions in my ceramic glaze. You can see that throughline in the Rễ Cây collection, which draws from the pillowy curves of root vegetables, or the delicate slopes of the Kite In-Flight pieces. 

How have you balanced the tranquility and rustic nature of your art with the competitiveness and commercialization of a brand?

I design and hand make my work myself, so I would not categorize what I do as commercial or a brand.

The name Vy Voi is my Vietnamese nickname, and my art/design practice pays homage to that. However, I would say my sensibilities are the tension of traditional industrial design and art. From industrial design, the balance of form and function, and from art, the human touch and meaning that gives an object character. 

In your view, what constitutes the true value of an object?

The true value is subjective, but for me it’s about the freedom of aging with it. You can be precious with objects, but there comes a point where you should let go. The patina is what makes it yours over time, like a broken-in denim jacket. You can see areas of fading, or patched up spots. The absolute dream would be for someone to pass objects down as heirlooms—that’s when the stories are embodied within, and make them all the more richer. 

Following the success of lighting collections like Nấm or Rễ Cây, you hinted at expanding into larger-scale furniture. Could you reveal a little bit about Vy Voi's upcoming project or collection?

I’ll give you a hint: it draws from nostalgia, and can be often found in Vietnamese homes across the globe. It will also be my first time using these materials, so I’ve given myself ample room to explore.

There’s questions I want answered when I work on new ideas, and if it resonates with me emotionally and physically. What you can expect though is a reorientation of the traditional,  married with the familiar, which is a core part of how I approach my work. When it’s ready, you’ll know, I can’t say much more! 

What have you learned on your design journey?

You actually do have to be a little crazy to follow your dreams. I will never feel ready, and that’s okay! I took the safest route possible to start my own practice, working full-time, transitioning to part-time, and going all-in once everything felt like it was in the right place. I’m always learning, growing, and making mistakes, but I will always begin again no matter what.

Thank you Steffany for being here with Tatler Vietnam!

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