Home and A Way: Anda Home by Cal Habos

Of Sony VAIOs and MacBooks

Cal Habos, designer of Anda Home: So, I actually grew up in Japan and then China after. My dad was stationed there for work, so the whole family moved around.

Oh wow I see! I can kind of relate as I also lived out my formative years in a foreign country: Indonesia.

Habos: Yeah, we lived there for five years. Then we moved back to the Philippines when I was eight. But I was still in international school in Manila. Then later we moved to China for high school—same situation, dad’s job. I went to international school again.

So your whole early education was like this fluid, transient thing.

Habos: Pretty much. It was what they call a “third culture” experience—constantly moving, picking up and shedding habits and norms. So the idea that nothing is permanent was just normal for me. It only shifted when I came back here for college and stayed. That’s when I started to really want roots. A base.

Especially in your own country, right?

Habos: Yeah, exactly. And studying industrial design here—at Benilde—helped me anchor myself. Before that, I already had a general interest in design. But when I found out what industrial design actually was—being paid to create things that make people’s experience with objects better—it just clicked. I got tunnel vision.

That’s rare. A lot of people don’t know what they want at that age. I surely didn’t haha!

Habos: Yeah, in high school, most of my classmates were applying to colleges based on where they could get in. But I was only looking at the handful of universities that offered industrial design. And in the Philippines, it’s a short list—Benilde, UST…

I wonder though, did living in Japan and China, both design powerhouses, influence your decision to go into design? Did that shape your sensibilities? Just as an example, living abroad had a huge impact. Changed the way I write, the way I design—everything. So I’m wondering if, for you, that experience of growing up in Japan and China also played a role in shaping how you see design. Like, was there something in the way you experienced those cultures that made you more attuned to the power of design to connect things—people, values, roots?

Habos: Definitely not consciously at the time. But looking back, yeah. Though I think sensibility is a tricky thing. Techniques can be taught. Sensibility? Either you’ve got it or you don’t. But honestly, I think you could trace that reaction all the way back to my time in Japan. But still, overall, the way things are structured—there’s an intentionality there. When you grow up in that kind of environment, it rewires your expectations. That becomes your baseline. Then you come back here and see how many things just don’t work. It hits different.

I agree. You can master all the software and tools, but if you don’t have the eye—or the emotional intuition—it’ll still fall flat. That’s the distinction between functionality and soul and sometimes it is triggered by these cultural immersions! This spells the difference between a piece of furniture that works, versus one that connects emotionally.

Habos: For sure. For me, that “sensibility” started to surface when I began designing actual things—not just studying design. One real turning point was when our Windows computer got stolen. My dad replaced it with a Mac. First time I’d used one. That was around 2010.

Windows 7 had just come out. It was a huge jump from Vista—but then I used a Mac and it was like: whoa! Everything just worked. That was my lightbulb moment. That design could feel this seamless.

Right, right. But going from Windows to an entirely different OS—that was around peak Steve Jobs, wasn’t it? That shift alone…

Habos: Yeah, that really was peak Steve. And coming into the Mac experience with fresh eyes—the physical design of the product felt so refined. Way more than what we were used to, like this old plastic Sony VAIO we had at the time.

And that’s saying something, because back then the VAIO was probably the best- looking Windows laptop you could get (laughs)

Habos: Exactly. So I kind of just fell into this rabbit hole. I kept thinking, “Why does this feel so much better?” And that’s when I discovered industrial design. Jony Ive was probably the first designer I ever really followed, idolized even. That was the moment things narrowed for me—I got tunnel vision. Then you learn about Dieter Rams, who influenced so much of what Apple was doing. Especially under Jony. And that’s where everything kind of took off for me.

Right. And then over time, once you were back home, it sounds like your thinking shifted again. Like there was more of an appreciation for natural materials, things that were more indigenous—closer to what we have here

I then gesture at the Anda Nest prototype we have on the table

That awareness, especially of materiality, culture, sustainability, when did it start to creep in?

Habos: Yeah. It’s like there’s this huge cloud over us—this aluminum-and-glass aesthetic that dominates much of consumer tech, but we’re not really confronting its environmental cost. “Sustainability” gets thrown around a lot but barely scratched at. Most corporations don’t deal with it seriously.

Ironically, Apple’s one of the few that seems to—at least on paper.

Habos: Yeah. They have that net zero goal for 2030, right? Which is a massive undertaking for a company their size. But yeah, they continue to inspire me in some ways. Still, I’m just a small, early-career designer—I don’t have that kind of reach or platform. So, the question becomes, what can I do? What can I do with the materials and manufacturing that are actually available to me, here, where I am?

Right. And that idea—local limitations, but making something meaningful out of it— that kind of came to a head during the pandemic and with Anda Home?

Habos: Yes, exactly. The idea of local limitations, but still trying to create something meaningful. My current work is all about materials—plain, architectural materials, not quite brutalist but close. I had a project called Anda, named after [Japanese architect] Tadao Ando. It was all about having a clean design language so I could switch materials later if needed. Like swapping plywood for eco-plastic boards. Or using sheet metal instead. Like, if I don’t want to use wood at all, I could reimagine the whole product with something like that. There’s so much possibility with materials, and locally, it opens up opportunities for collaboration.

New directions, finding Home

Let’s circle back to Anda Home. It’s clear Apple’s been a big influence on you. Your sensibilities, as seen with your prototypes here, definitely reflect that. So how did you end up focusing on furniture and home decor instead of, say, consumer electronics?

Habos: Funny, Selena (Placino, industrial designer) recently introduced me to the idea of “form follows availability.” It’s hard to explain, but it essentially describes designing based on what’s around you. It clicked for me, not just as a designer, but in life. At one point, I really wanted to stay on the consumer electronics track. It was the dream. Still is, in a way.

Well, you’re young. That’s still on the table.

Habos: Definitely. But as the world’s tech got more dystopian, I started gravitating toward home products. Things that aren’t flashy, but make you feel something. I got tired of adding to the noise. Do we really need another Qi charger or Bluetooth speaker?

I wanted to create objects that reconnect us to something physical. Like this wooden chair I’m sitting on—it feels better than plastic. I wanted to understand why that is. During the pandemic, materiality and tactility became central to my design thinking.

The pandemic really shifted how we relate to our spaces, no? Before, we saw the home as a temporary recharge zone before going out to work or school. But now, the home became everything. People got more intentional about what they brought into their space.

Habos: Yeah, exactly. People started investing in objects that made them feel good, objects that sparked joy. And now, we see a revival of mid-century design, thrifting, and recontextualizing found objects.

That shift toward quality and intentionality—objects that reflect values rather than just serve a function, seems to have influenced your approach with Anda Home.

Habos: For sure. It started during the pandemic. I thought, what if I could design with something as simple as connecting wood pieces like Lego bricks? I’ve been into Lego since I was a kid—wanted to be an architect at one point. That impulse to build stuck with me.

The home became my creative playground during the lockdown, which turned into a proving ground for what I call “alternative homeware.” Pieces that have unusual forms, but they aren’t just for novelty’s sake—they had to make sense.

Form with purpose.

Habos: Yeap. I began with natural materials, designing pieces that weren’t fixed to one function. My first piece was a riser, like a monitor stand, but taller. I needed more vertical space on my desk. The first prototype came back from this Shopee vendor I got, and surprisingly, it was almost perfect. That gave me the push to think, “This could actually be a product.”

But I quickly realized scaling that up—turning one prototype into ten, then hundreds—was a different beast altogether.

Yes. That shift from one-off to production scale is massive.

Habos: Luckily, my industrial design training helped with that. Design requires repeatability. I started shopping the idea around, but no one was initially interested. Then, I worked with the Design Center of the Philippines, which led to a DTI program that matched designers with mentors and manufacturers. That’s when things really took off.

Was that Obra?

Habos: Yeah, Obra. That was March 2024. It led to a showing at the Philippine International Furniture Show at SMX. I made a bench, basically an enlarged version of the riser but optimized for sitting.

And that’s how you connected with MOLD (3D printing and circularity maker studio)?

Habos: We were already in talks, but that bench sealed the deal. They invited me for their September residency.

You were one of three designers, right?

Habos: Yeah, one doing jewelry, one doing architecture, and then me with product-based design. The goal was to create something entirely new, not just iterate on past work. I ended up doing both. One piece was an evolved version of the riser, which became a modular shelving system. You can buy a single unit or combine them into a console or storage wall. That became Stow.

To stow things, obviously.

Habos: Haha, yes! Then I also created The Nest—a brand new piece, which I’m currently developing further.

And it’s this prototype right here!

Habos: Yes, I brought it with me. Hold on, I’ll assemble it here.

Plans to unplan

Habos: The Nest came out of a survey I did during the MOLD residency. I asked people about the objects they interacted with the most at home—the ones they were always reaching for, moving, or using. I designed something that would accommodate those patterns. It’s a catch-all, but with intention behind its shape. Not just a bowl or tray, but something adaptable.

So it’s something grounded in actual user behavior.

Habos: Exactly. I wanted it to feel obvious once you saw it—but not generic. The shape is weird, but every cut has a job. And it’s dead simple to make: CNC-cut from flat stock, no big factory needed. Just decent equipment and good wood.

You’ve got a production partner now, right?

Habos: Yeah, someone I met through MOLD, Omnisource International. We’ve been working together since September. Having a go-to fabricator has been a huge relief—I can finally focus on design instead of chasing builds.

Earlier you mentioned designing around a list—what was that?

Habos: Oh! Just stuff people keep on their desks or grab often. Phone, wallet, scissors, keys. I designed around that. If two or three didn’t fit, I adjusted. That list became the framework. It’s not the most inspired shape, but it works. I was chasing form and function—not just physically, but conceptually. Pulled a lot from architecture. Brutalism. Tadao Ando. There’s this anchoring piece on the bottom—it holds everything together.

Any other influences that informed your design?

Habos: There’s Arturo Luz. I like how Luz plays with simple shapes. And subtle Filipino references. I started paying more attention to local materials—woven textiles from Ilocos, like inabel or binakol. The way the grid shifts—tight on the edges, loose in the center—I used that idea for layout. Small compartments on the side, big ones in the middle.

And users can move things and the sections around, like a Lego set.

Habos: Exactly. You can pull out a section, slide it under, change how it’s used. The form suggests possibilities.

And you know what, I think there is potential to blow this up as a stool too!

Habos: Funny that you mentioned that. That’s actually the next product! Just launched a crowdfunding campaign last night—44 days to go (13 days as of writing). It’s about refining the prototype for production. And we’re still figuring out finishes. Especially for the Rest stool—it has to support weight. But the core idea’s the same: no tools, no glue, flat-packed and easy to assemble.

So, straight out of the box?

Habos: Yeap, and just as easy to take apart. Bring it somewhere else, reassemble. Done!

Going back to the Nest. Was it part of the vision that people could hack it? Reconfigure things? Sort of like how makers reinvent vanilla IKEA products?

Habos: Totally. I guess these creations invite playful reinterpretation. More suggestive than prescriptive. There’s a default layout, sure. But people naturally mess or play with things that can be taken apart. One person stores cables, another puts in jewelry. It wasn’t designed to be modular, but it became that. And I leaned into it. You don’t have to replace the whole thing if one piece breaks. I can even release add-ons later.

I see, and that thinking—modular, adaptive—carries across all of Anda Home?

Habos: Yeah, it’s a throughline.

Before we end: You’ve been running Anda Home since the pandemic. You’ve released a capsule collection. You seem pretty sure about the things you want to do. So, what’s next? Do you have a blueprint you follow or are you breaking character and making it as you go along now?

Habos: Haha! I think a bit of both—I think the pandemic has all thought us to sway with the current when needed. A clear vision helps definitely, but one must stay flexible. Four years ago, I was sure I wanted to create furniture, but I never imagined my riser turning into what it is now, a system of everyday products. It’s been an ongoing pivot.

I see, vision and improvisation! That’s the plan.

Habos: Exactly. Right now, I want to scale up. See the products in cafés I love, in homes. That’s always been the dream. But I’m open to the unexpected. I do my best work when I’m trusted and given time. You know, this conversation reminds me of a quote the economist Scott Galloway borrowed. It best sums up what I do: “Plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.”

That’s a pretty solid soundbite!

Habos: Haha! Guess that’s how I work. You can’t expect everything to go to plan. But if you don’t plan at all, you’re just flailing. Intuition matters—but it’s not enough on its own.

That’s great to hear Cal! It pays to have a vision, but also not to forget that there are different paths leading towards it, or the possibility of finding a path towards an even better goal. Best of luck on the crowdsourcing campaign! •