My mom and dad had a store, and sometimes people would return

Host: The dim glow of the evening filled the room, the world outside slowly transitioning into night. Jack sat at the table, the soft light illuminating his thoughtful expression as he reflected on the words of Marcel Wanders. Jeeny stood near the window, her gaze turned inward, absorbed in the idea of how Wanders's early experiences shaped his understanding of architecture and design.

Jeeny: “I’ve been thinking about this quote from Marcel Wanders: ‘My mom and dad had a store, and sometimes people would return broken stuff. I'd take it apart and reassemble it. At 16, I really understood the architecture of things.’ It’s such an interesting way of describing how he first started to understand the structure and design of objects, isn’t it? The idea that even at a young age, by taking things apart and putting them back together, he was already connecting with the deeper mechanisms of how things are built.”

Jack: “Yes, it’s almost like a natural instinct for him. He wasn’t just seeing objects as things to be used; he was seeing them as systems, as things that can be taken apart and reconfigured. It’s not just about the aesthetic of design, but about understanding how every piece fits together, how function and form coexist. At 16, he was already thinking like an architect, seeing the architecture of things from the inside out.”

Jeeny: “Exactly. The process of taking something broken and fixing it is such a powerful metaphor for design itself. Wanders wasn’t just focused on the end product—he was focused on the process. By disassembling and reassembling, he was learning about structure, about how things work, and what makes them functional. It’s like he was learning the language of design before he even realized it.”

Host: The quiet in the room deepened as they both reflected on the power of experience and how early hands-on learning can shape one’s understanding of the world. Jack’s fingers rested on the table, his thoughts turning inward as he thought about how we often come to understand complex ideas through the simplest of actions.

Jack: “It’s almost like Wanders was learning the underlying principles of design long before he formalized it. He didn’t just learn about architecture from textbooks or lectures—he learned by doing, by engaging with the material world around him. Taking things apart wasn’t just an act of curiosity; it was his way of connecting with the intricacies of design, of understanding how things are put together at their core.”

Jeeny: “Yes, and there’s a certain beauty in that. The ability to see the world not just as something that’s built, but as something that can be taken apart, understood, and reimagined. It’s about seeing potential in the broken or incomplete, recognizing that even in things that seem flawed, there’s an opportunity to create something new, something more meaningful. Wanders’s early experiences gave him that perspective.”

Jack: “It’s a reminder that creativity and design don’t just come from theory—they come from the hands-on engagement with the world. When you break something down and rebuild it, you’re learning deeply about how things work, about their essence. That’s where true understanding happens—by immersing yourself in the process of creation and deconstruction.”

Jeeny: “Yes, and I think that’s what makes Wanders's work so special. His ability to see design as something organic, something that evolves, comes from that early experience of taking things apart and seeing their inner architecture. It’s not just about making something beautiful on the outside—it’s about understanding the structure and function beneath it.”

Host: The room had grown quieter, as if the conversation had settled into a deeper understanding of the relationship between hands-on experience and creative design. Marcel Wanders’s early experiences, taking apart and reassembling broken things, had shaped his unique approach to architecture and design—an approach grounded in the belief that understanding how things work on the inside is just as important as the way they appear on the outside. Jack sat back slightly in his chair, his fingers resting gently on the edge of the table, while Jeeny’s gaze softened, reflecting on how experience shapes creativity in ways we don’t always expect.

Jack: “So, in a way, Wanders was building his own understanding of design through trial and error, through direct interaction with the objects around him. It wasn’t just academic—it was experiential learning, and that’s what gave him the deep insight into the true nature of design.”

Jeeny: “Exactly. His ability to understand the architecture of things wasn’t something he was taught in a classroom; it was something he discovered through the act of engaging with the world. That’s the kind of learning that sticks with you—it’s not just information, it’s a way of seeing the world.”

Host: The conversation had come full circle, the realization that true creativity comes not just from theory or ideas, but from deeply engaging with the world around us. Marcel Wanders’s early hands-on experiences in his parents’ store were the foundation for his understanding of design—learning the inner workings of things, the architecture of the objects we use every day. It was a reminder that sometimes, the most profound insights come not from what we are taught, but from how we engage, experiment, and interact with the world around us.