In My ROOM WITH Klara

When we first spoke to Klara Persson in Malmö, where she has been based for the past few years, it was deep in December last year. Winters are brutal, but the inside of her home was cozy and full of personal touches. Our conversation quickly turned towards what was most present in Klara’s life at that moment, creativity, and how it turned back into a central and grounding role in her life again.

Her journey serves as a reminder that creativity flourishes when given space, both physically and mentally. It isn’t about following a set path, but about staying open, embracing change, and trusting that ideas, even if left to marinate, will find their way into the world when the time is right. Now, with a new role ahead and a rekindled sense of creative freedom, Klara is stepping into the future on her own terms, ready to explore, make, and dream without limits.

ReFramed: Hi Klara, not everyone naturally gravitates toward a creative field. How did you find your way into one?

Klara: I grew up in a family where creativity was always present, even though both of my parents were doctors. My father eventually changed careers, before I was born, moving into illustration, writing, and graphic design. Since he worked as a freelancer, our home had a studio, and for a long time, I thought the only possible career paths were medicine or illustration and graphic design. That was simply the world I knew. As a child, I loved sewing my own stuffed toys, making clothes, and decorating interiors. I was always rearranging my room, expressing myself through design. I also wrote a bit and spent time in my father’s studio trying to draw, though I must admit, my drawing skills weren’t the best!

My parents believed in the importance of a formal education, so I studied science in high school. After that, I took a year to explore my creative side and attended foundation art school. However, the experience wasn’t what I had expected. Unlike traditional school, where grades measure progress, art school was more about passing or failing, which oddly stifled my creativity rather than encouraging it.

RF: How would you describe your relationship with creativity over the years?

K: In recent years, I’ve realized just how essential creative expression is in my life. It gives me a sense of freedom. My job at Bolon (a Swedish flooring brand) is in design, which is great, but in my personal creative work, I don’t have to think about clients or money, I can just create for myself, without limitations. That said, time is always an issue. This summer, I had a bit of a creative rebirth when I attended an artist residency at Boisbuchet in France. I had followed them for years, and their workshops in design, architecture, and food looked incredible.

That experience reminded me how much I needed creativity in my life. When I returned home, I made a big change, I transformed my two-bedroom apartment to create a home studio. Instead of a traditional setup, I moved my bed into the living room so I could dedicate my former bedroom entirely to creative work. It was a huge shift, but it felt necessary.

RF: Incredible, that’s really inspiring. What are you working on in your studio now?

K: I love building things, often using materials that have personal meaning. My approach is very hands-on, if I need something, I ask myself, “Can I make it ?” My latest project was a sofa table made from a set of 20 old encyclopedias that I had received as a child, back when they were meant to last a lifetime.

Of course, the internet changed that, but I held onto them for nostalgic reasons. Instead of discarding them, I repurposed them into something new. At Boisbuchet, I stayed in a beautifully designed bamboo house furnished with Vitra pieces. However, there wasn’t much space for personal belongings, which made me feel like an outsider. That inspired my project: I built temporary furniture, shelves, a wardrobe, and photo frames, to transform the space into something more personal. I called it «Making House into Home.»

The experience reinforced how important it is for me to feel at home wherever I am. I studied textile design and have worked in furniture and flooring design, but I don’t see why I should limit myself. Creativity should be expansive, not restrictive.

RF: Was there a time when creativity took a backseat in your life?

K: Yes, after completing my BA and masters degree financial reality set in. I felt the pressure to create things that would impress others rather than just making what I loved. The combination of external expectations and financial concerns took a toll. At that point in time I started to work for some Swedish furniture manufacturers as a marketing coordinator in a showroom in Stockholm and from there I got to know more about the architect and design industry through sales and marketing.

For a long time, creativity felt tied to achievement rather than freedom. But this past summer, something shifted. I reconnected with the joy of creating for its own sake, as I had when I was younger. I became less self-conscious, I used to worry about what others thought of my work, but now, I care much less. Maybe it’s age, or maybe it’s just realizing that I don’t need to make money from my personal projects, so why stress over them? Most creative people experience self-doubt, but I’ve learned that real creative freedom comes from embracing your own process, no matter how long it takes.

RF: Has your personal creative journey influenced your professional work?

K: There’s no short answer to that, but I’d say yes. I started at Bolon in marketing, then moved into R&D, business development, and product management. In January, I’ll transition into the role of Design Director, which will allow me to focus more on design itself and creative collaborations. Regaining my personal creativity has made me happier overall, and that naturally impacts my work. I don’t know if it has changed how I approach design professionally, but it has definitely re-energized me. When you feel creatively fulfilled, it influences everything you do.

RF: Talk to me a little bit more about the design items or the things in your home that are memorable or sentimental to you.

K: I have a Tremmesofa by Børge Mogensen, which is a design classic. My mother’s family comes from Denmark, so a few of the furniture pieces I have in my flat are from my grandmother, who moved from Copenhagen to Sweden. Her father was an architect, and some of my fondest architectural childhood memories are of her home, which was beautifully designed and filled with Danish design items.

She had a great eye for interiors, and that was a huge inspiration for me. This sofa has been part of my life since childhood. When my grandmother moved into an elderly home, she couldn’t bring all her furniture, so it was distributed among her children and grandchildren. I was lucky enough to receive this sofa. It still has the original fabric, and it’s connected to my grandmother’s aunt, Lis Ahlmann, who was a textile designer. She designed fabrics for Børge Mogensen, which adds another layer of meaning to it. This piece ties me to both my family and design history in a profound way. I also have a Pilates ball that didn’t really have a proper place in my home but I found a porcelain elephant plant pot in a nearby vintage shop, and it was the perfect holder for the ball. I love repurposing objects in creative ways like this, giving them new context and function. And while my bookshelves are just standard Billy shelves from Ikea, I love reading and have a vast collection of books. Even though the design isn’t particularly special, the books themselves make the shelves meaningful to me.

RF: I’m curious about any routines or rituals that you have in your home.

K: One important ritual for me is grinding my coffee by hand in the morning. I love the physical movement of grinding, the aroma of freshly ground coffee. I do have a strong ritual that is actually connected to the bed. I always make my bed in the morning, never leaving it undone.

I like to see it as a display area, sort of a painting or a collage, arranging blankets, pillows etc. Sometimes the same, sometimes in a new way. Now, when my bed is in the center of my home, it is even more important for me. Even if it is just for myself. 

RF: What are some of the things that you dream of achieving or doing now that you have rediscovered this relationship to creativity and with your new job starting?

K: I really enjoy working in the contract market design field, especially because it’s a long-term process, not driven by fleeting trends. I love the idea that the projects I work on, whether workspaces, hotels, or other environments, are meant to last and impact a wider audience. It’s not just about creating something for one person but about contributing to a larger, more enduring vision.

Beyond work, I want to give myself the freedom to dream bigger. I sometimes struggle with turning ideas into reality, I have so many thoughts, but I don’t always act on them. I’d love to explore my ideas more and not limit myself. There was a time when I didn’t dream much at all, but now I want to embrace that part of myself again. I also think a lot about how dreams change over time.

People often say that if you feel lost, you should look back at what you dreamed of as a child. But I think it’s just as important to ask: What do I dream about now? What new things do I want to try, no matter my age or experience? Of course, stepping into something new, being a beginner again, is scary. It’s intimidating to not know what you’re doing at first. But I believe that dreams need space to wander, to marinate. There’s no shortcut, just the willingness to explore, to write things down, and to share ideas instead of keeping them locked in my own mind.

RF: What would you like your legacy to be?

K: If I were to define my legacy, I’d want it to be about inspiring others to take that first step, to try instead of saying I can’t. If I can encourage even one person to be less afraid, to care more, or to believe in their own creativity, that would mean everything to me. Of course, leaving a bigger impact would be incredible, but at its core, I think true legacy is about sparking change, no matter how small, and helping others see what’s possible.