To infuse fresh energy into Slalom’s already expansive palette, collaborating on a new colour collection with Swedish designer, colourist and art director Teklan felt like a natural evolution.
As a company with an almost two-thirds female team, collaborating with Teklan feels especially meaningful, as in her seamless harmony with her own creative world, colour emanates from her personality — effortless, vital, deeply intuitive — taking form through the materials she engages with.
In Teklan’s hands, colour becomes less decoration and more a system — a precise design tool that tunes the mood and subtly recalibrates how we move through a space.
How do you feel at the start of a new colour exploration?
I always feel incredibly excited at the start of a new colour exploration. Each project is a fresh beginning with endless possibilities—a universe of its own that I can begin to imagine and shape through its unique language. I strive to create new dialogues—this is how I see colour and combinations—and to build narratives that feel meaningful and perfectly attuned to the moment.
For the new 2026 Slalom palette, how did you identify the areas of opportunity within Slalom’s existing range? Which disciplines informed your research and what did you aim to contribute to the collection?
Slalom’s colours aren’t just decorative panels—they’re architectural solutions and a complete interior system. I analysed the current range from that perspective, looking at both architecture and interior design. Then I explored historical and contemporary interiors, combined with future colour forecasts, focusing on natural pigments and my own vision of how spaces should feel comfortable and inspiring…Along the way, I realized a few more soothing shades were missing—‘wall paint–like’ colours with more complex tones and a bit more grounded body—so I started working on those: shades that do not merely dress an objects, but interact with architecture, absorb light, define atmosphere and shape the reading of a room.
Many people hesitate when it comes to using colour in interiors, concerned that bolder tones may become overwhelming over time. Do you see this as a genuine risk? Can a colour evolve alongside us? And what, in your view, makes a shade truly “liveable” — something that grows with people rather than exhausting them?
Neuroscience suggests that our lifestyles may be modern — but our core brain responses are still ancient. We generally function better in nuanced, nature-inspired environments. A pure white, industrially painted room — stripped of natural pigment — can be quite stressful for the brain. However, colour can never be absolute depending on the type of context. It comes to life in a certain type of lighting, in combination with other colours and other elements of a space.
That’s what makes colour so exciting to work with: it is the strongest visual tool we have, yet it is always relative, impossible to grasp in only one way.
Within the new collection, unexpected pairings emerge — the delicate with the bold, the warm with the cool. How do you determine the point at which contrast resolves into harmony?
I love mixing something flirty with something a little “dirty” — a vivid, pastel, or pale tone paired with a deep, earthy, or muted shade. The contrast creates balance, surprise, and beauty. I’m deeply drawn to analogue palettes — especially warm-on-warm combinations that feel rich and embracing. I always choose colours intuitively — when it feels right, it is right. Colour theory can guide you, but it’s just a starting point. There are many well-established colour theories that offer a reliable foundation and can serve as a source of inspiration when selecting colour combinations, particularly in relation to their position on the colour wheel. These include monochromatic, analogous, complementary, split-complementary, triadic, tetradic, square, and achromatic + accent. Still, every designer should create their own rules and build their own language.
Colour forecasting can often be treated like a weather report — sudden and mechanical — yet the reality is a far slower and more nuanced process. In your work across surfaces, textiles, objects and exhibitions, how do you sense when a particular tone is ready to be brought forward?
That’s certainly true — also many forecasts are driven primarily by commercial agendas, such as fast fashion’s need to promote and sell a new seasonal colour. This, of course, offers little that is either relevant or sustainable as a means of evaluation.
However, “trends” in a deeper sense are shaped by time, context and the society in which we live. It is this dimension that interests and inspires me. For me, it is about being present and attentive — feeling and sensing the moment. From there, the decision to include or exclude a colour becomes a conscious choice, for example: “is it appropriate to embrace a so-called “trend” colour? What does that choice imply for the character of a given context, and what are its longer-term implications?”
At the same time, colour tendencies also tend to follow cycles: macro trend cycles, typically spanning 10–15 years; mid-range cycles of around 3–5 years; and long-term revival cycles that may extend over 20–30 years. Considering these rhythms can offer a useful analysis when engaging with “on trend” colours.
When do you know a colour is “right”? Is there a moment of intuition?
Knowing a colour is ‘right’ is definitely about intuition — when it just clicks, when it lands and makes sense, and you feel it in your gut. But getting there is always a journey. There’s thinking involved too: understanding the why, how everything works together, and the bigger picture. Creating a collection feels like putting together a puzzle.
Your approach appears strikingly tactile — could you walk us through your day-to-day studio rituals?
I strive to create new dialogues and to build new narratives that feel meaningful and perfectly attuned to the moment. My Stockholm studio is where these narratives take shape. It’s the place I always return to, where I bring together my travels, research and experiences. Here, I pick up the paint and begin to experiment, putting ideas into practice. No fixed routine, except for coffee in the morning and a lunch walk in the forest next to the studio, it’s the best to marinate ideas. After all, nobody does colour better than nature.
In your personal life, is there a colour that consistently accompanies you — and why?
I would say peach — though the tone may vary — is always a kind of base colour for me. It feels like the perfect balance between orange and pink: warm, friendly, delicate and soft, yet with a glowing character.
You are based in Stockholm, yet you frequently travel for work. Has any recent place, exhibition or experience sparked your attraction to a particular shade? And when you begin developing a new tone, what is the first element you turn to?
Recently, while in Madrid, I saw a settled type of lighter jade —between blue and green — which I found particularly nice. I look forward to including it further on, when the suiting context emerges.
The first ingredient is that I decide which type of atmosphere I want to embrace in the new colour, and I start spinning from there.
