The golden ratio, 4/4 time signature, rule of thirds: Certain patterns or forms — through whatever convoluted calculation — trigger an ineffable sense of correctness within us. Some things just feel right, and feeling right will always be timeless. This is why Tej Chauhan calls himself an “emotive industrial designer”, an epithet that implies putting human connection above all else when creating a product.
“There are certain mathematical combinations that please me, and over the years, I’ve turned that into this strategic process where I understand it will please a lot of people in general. Even someone like my dad, who doesn’t really know about design but as a human being will respond to an object,” he elaborates on how his works elicit joy and resonate with a broad audience. “Some are compelled to decode why we like certain things, but the majority might just see something and think, ‘That’s nice’, without knowing why. It’s a gut reaction.”
From freelancing fresh out of university to establishing his eponymous practice, Chauhan has applied his bold style and sympathetic, functional philosophy to a wide range of goods, including mobile phones, eyewear and, most recently, a special collaboration with Swiss watchmaker Rado. The London- and Helsinki-based creative made an appearance in Kuala Lumpur last month at an exclusive event commemorating the Rado DiaStar Original x Tej Chauhan Special Edition, which was unveiled earlier this year. This marked his second project with the manufacture, following a unique yellow version of the True Heart five years ago.
In the midst of his whirlwind tour of the city before flying home to the Finnish capital where he lives with his wife and two daughters (“I’m honestly spending more time on a plane than on land,” he whispers), Chauhan is nonetheless an energetic, easygoing spirit. He sits down with Options to discuss his creative approach, futuristic inspirations and where his relationship with Rado is going next.
Finn tech
Born in London, Chauhan recalls spending hours as a teen glued to the drawing board in his bedroom, sketching cars and rockets. “I was literally always drawing as a kid. I knew I wanted to do some sort of design, even though I probably didn’t fully understand what that meant as a kid,” he says. As he grew up, this interest quickly evolved from flat illustrations into a fascination with the three-dimensional. “When I went into foundation [at Middlesex University], I thought I wanted to be a graphic designer. My tutors said I would be more suited to 3D because I was spending so much time in my workshops, either with clay, ceramics, wood or metal. I structured my portfolio accordingly, and then got into Central Saint Martins.”
After getting his degree in 1995, Chauhan made his way into the freelancing world, working for companies such as British Airways, The Body Shop and cult Japanese designer Michiko Koshino, conceptualising everything from product packaging to accessories. Five years later, a life-changing offer came through the door. “One day — and this was before email — I got a letter inviting me to an interview at Nokia. In those days, it was the number one mobile phone brand in the world,” he explains. “I hadn’t got much consumer technology in my portfolio, so that was something I wanted to build on.”
Though slightly hesitant to trade in his more lax work schedule for a corporate lifestyle, Chauhan knew the opportunity was too good to pass up. One successful interview later, he joined the phone company as part of its design team in 2000 and stayed in the role for almost six years.
“That was an incredible journey. It was such a special place to be at, full of super talented people,” he reminisces. “It was an amazing ecosystem built for creation — like Disneyland for designers.” You might remember the era when mobile devices were not just rectangular screens on a plain-coloured back with however many cameras, but quirky, individualistic things in unusual shapes, hues and materials. People would pull their phones out of their pockets after a flight and start peeking around at what everyone else was carrying, Chauhan reminds. “All the brands were trying to find a way to out cool each other with crazy stuff.”
Among his creations for the Finnish brand were the 7280 (codenamed “Lipstick”), 7370 (“Swivel”) and 7600 (“Mango”). While the 7280 was listed by Fortune magazine as one of 2004’s Best 25 Products, the 7600 has been memorialised by the BBC’s online Mobile Phone Museum for a slightly cheekier reason. “This guy was ranking the ugliest mobile phones and pulled out my design! It was brilliant, I loved it,” he chuckles. Although he admits the device was divisive, he still looks back fondly on those earlier works. Not many get to design flagship products for such a massive industry player, less so in an environment conducive to wacky, boundary-pushing ideas.
His current style is not as Y2K-flavoured, but Chauhan notes that his time at Nokia was incredibly formative. “We were all encouraged to explore different technologies and innovations. It gave me a fantastic playground for experimentation, and that built a foundation for thinking outside the box in terms of materials and processes. My interest in making technology more human and more fitting to our living environment came from those days.”
With feeling
By the end of 2005, Chauhan had left the phone company to establish Tej Chauhan Ltd in London, where he has since worked on products like baby monitors and kitchen equipment for various brands. The classification of “emotive industrial design” was cooked up during an introspective phase of trying to define the firm’s intentions.
“It’s not about creating a beautiful object, but rather trying to design something that people respond to without realising why — a connection through feeling,” he emphasises. It is that inexplicable trigger that makes, for example, someone reach for a toaster designed by him before any of the other 20 options on the shelf. “What are those visual touchpoints that make someone attracted to something? And once they pick it up, how does it feel? How does it operate? How do you strengthen that experience and make it even more powerful? That’s how we make connections with objects and brands,” says Chauhan.
In an era where mindless corporate minimalism is finally being rebuffed and people are coming to appreciate soulful, personal touches in their everyday items, this is perhaps a much-needed perspective in the world of product design. “People just appreciate a thoughtful, quality experience — one that feels like it’s designed for you,” he remarks, adding that the concept of something “for you” is not about exclusivity, but attuning his creations to a greater, more fundamental sense of satisfaction within each and every person. “I want to appeal to the masses. It doesn’t matter if it’s a mass-produced kettle or luxury timepiece, the objective is to broaden the audience. I want as many people as possible to feel good, because my work is about feeling good.”
Chauhan’s affinity for tech objects comes from a realisation of how inextricable technology has become in our day-to-day life. He says the design of such products must always consider the everyday experience. “One of the first projects I did after Nokia was with a telecommunications company making home telephones. It had a specific look that appeared very high-tech, but that didn’t blend with the home,” he notes. The result of his experiment with a more personable design language was the Colombo Two telephone, produced in 2008 for SGW Global. Despite just being a simple home phone, the response was resounding — the Colombo Two garnered widespread media coverage in Vogue, How To Spend It and The New York Times. “It went bananas! Everyone wanted it. We used colour quite strategically as a tool of engagement: This is an object for your kitchen or living room — shouldn’t it look like your home furnishing somehow? I want to make technology fit more pleasingly and appropriately into our lives.”
As Tej Chauhan Ltd approaches its 20th anniversary, the most defining lesson over the years has been how to listen, says the founder. “It’s really about understanding the company and their audiences, and trying to figure out how to engage them,” he says. That balance between the client’s image and intent against his own creative DNA can be a precarious one — he remembers sticking to his guns too hard when working with a brand, acknowledging in hindsight that he should have made their changes. “It was very early on, but that was a lesson learnt. You can’t fix things sometimes. What’s gone is gone. You’re always learning along the way and building wisdom.”
Better together
Unlike mobile phones and other modern devices, timepieces were unchartered territory for Chauhan, but this historic type of engineering ended up fitting effortlessly into his vision of human-centric design as something that has accompanied civilisation for centuries. So, when Swiss watchmaker Rado came knocking for a partnership, their synergy was immediately apparent.
“It was like seeing someone you’ve known for a long time, just a really good connective fit. When you find that, the road is always much easier,” he says. “I find what they do very interesting, working with a technology that will never become obsolete called ‘time’. You don’t need any power source other than human movement — it becomes part of you, and you power it. It’s mad!”
Visiting the manufacture in Switzerland enabled Chauhan to discover the watchmaker’s deeply rooted commitment to cutting-edge materials, a message he felt had to be placed at the core of his creations. “On one hand, you have all this innovation, and on the other, there’s the traditional Swiss watchmaking craft, where everything is still hand-assembled and there are people with their microscopes and funny gloves putting it all together,” he shares with wide-eyed wonder. “I wanted to tell these stories, and that’s what our first collaboration with True Square was all about.”
Launched in 2020 in tandem with the collection’s inaugural release, the True Square x Tej Chauhan Limited Edition stood out for its statement yellow case, curved dial edges and stylishly fun detailing. “We started working together at a great moment because [the company] had just begun looking into coloured ceramics. We did a bunch of concept sketches and directions. One of them was a whole page of yellow — I was probably watching Blade Runner at the time — and everyone agreed that was the one.”
The pop-cultural aesthetic references combined with Rado’s sophisticated craftsmanship were appreciated by watch enthusiasts as a playful, thoughtful product that avoided coming across as excessively toy-like. “It really did what we wanted it to do, which was unexpected. The main demographic felt it was refreshing, plus it got new people into the brand, which is the ultimate objective,” says Chauhan.
Following a successful partnership, he was invited back for a new challenge — reimagining the DiaStar 1, the design of which dates back to 1962. Working with this legacy and the Ceramos material meant communication between his studio and the watchmakers was crucial. “Rado has a team of people who know their expertise much better, and the fun part is sharing and finding out each other’s capabilities. It starts with a sketch, which turns into an exchange of ideas, and then the concept comes together in 3D CAD (computer-assisted design) based on what the technical requirements are,” he says. “Understanding the limitations helps me know where to push the boundaries and stretch them, so I can turn those limitations into innovations.”
While both of his collaborative pieces share a noticeable visual through-line in terms of the concave dial, highlighted 9 to 12 o’clock sector and bright accent shade — the DiaStar swaps concentric lines for radial ones and includes day display — Chauhan reveals that the matching colours were accidental. “I developed this design to work in both silver and gold. And while the former looked nice, when I tried on the gold prototype, it just popped. I also wanted to present a different version of what people think a ‘gold-coloured watch’ is. You have a certain style you immediately assign to the idea of a gold watch, so I wanted to see if we could challenge it.”
Textiles in tech, much like the injection moulded leather and suede trims on the Nokia 7600, is an exciting approach Chauhan is eager to see catch on. Both his interpretations of the True Square and DiaStar Original feature a pillowy, segmented strap produced in leather and rubber respectively, creating a particularly appealing form that invites touch.
While he does not divulge anything specific, he teases with more exciting releases in the pipeline. “So far, we’ve been doing my versions of these collections. But we’re also working on something that is totally new and all me,” he hints. Rather than applying himself to an existing iconography, the designer notes that this new piece requires a perspective shift that places the watchmaker’s identity first. “While I’m creating my version of a Rado product, it is first and foremost a Rado product. When you see it, you will certainly recognise the brand, followed by a semblance of me.”
The coming age
Chauhan’s signature pieces can be identified by their vibrant colours and ergonomic, curvaceous shapes, touched by a distinctly contemporary sensibility that seems at once both from the 1960s and far future. While he acknowledges the specificity of this “handwriting” within each design, none of these signature components are necessarily forced. “I think I was just watching too many sci-fi movies as a kid, and a lot of my visual references come from that,” he shrugs with a smile.
“It’s something I was excited and inspired by as a young child. When I first saw Star Wars, I was just …,” he pauses in an awe-filled expression, “And I became obsessive about it. I started buying these various ‘Art of …’ books just to find out who the people who made these visions were and how they worked.” He names 2001: A Space Odyssey and Blade Runner as among his other great influences, citing his admiration for American illustrators Ralph McQuarrie and Syd Mead and filmmaker Stanley Kubrick.
For Chauhan, who places so much importance on feeling, it is hard to miss the poetry in this affinity for sci-fi — a genre that often uses prediction and exaggeration to summon emotional reactions about what the current can teach us. These films question where human sentiment will end up as technology and artificial intelligence continue to advance. “There’s a lot of imagination that goes into asking: ‘What would that look like? What is that going to look like?’. Doing that forecasting forces you to think about how that would be different to what is happening now,” he offers.
Although there is less room for funky-shaped phones and unusual button configurations in our smart devices now, Chauhan is not deterred by the seemingly shrinking customisability of our pocket rectangles. “There’s still going to be some sort of physical representation that facilitates technology. A lot of it lives on the screen, but there still needs to be a vessel. I get asked all the time about whether there’s anywhere to go with smartphones, and I think there is lots to do still! There are plenty of untapped opportunities, so I’m not worried,” he affirms.
So what’s next on his bucket list of things to design? Chauhan’s answer, delivered with zero hesitation, is a throwback to his childhood days at the drawing board. “Cars and motorbikes — just anything transport-related. Vehicles are something I haven’t done that I would love to do. In fact, my graduate thesis was this idea of scooters in a city centre that you could rent, take at one place and leave at another to charge up — and now, that has become a reality, unrelated to me! I think it was just a common sense thing that would happen at some stage, and 30 years later, it’s real.”
Chauhan’s indomitable passion for filling our world with meaningful, considerate things means no object is too far out of his comfort zone to work on. “Toilet brushes, luxury watches, chairs … I don’t care — anything!” he insists.
This article first appeared on Aug 18, 2025 in The Edge Malaysia.