Upload your sustainability documents. AI maps your maturity across 33 indicators and finds providers that can genuinely move your index.
I'm a Service Designer with an MA from the Royal College of Art. I work across the full arc of design — from field research and organizational diagnosis to system design, digital delivery and AI integration. My work lives at the intersection of complex organizations and the people they serve.
Over 9 years I've worked in corporations, startups and independently across hospitality, insurance, agritech and sustainability. What stays consistent is a systemic approach: designing solutions that generate value across the full ecosystem — not just for the organization commissioning the work, but for the communities, users and environments involved.
I integrate AI tools naturally across the entire process — not as an add-on, but as a way to move faster, think more rigorously, and build things that actually work.
I believe in circular thinking: every solution I design has to be something people and organizations can adopt, sustain and build on.
I find what's really happening
Field research · Ethnography · Systemic diagnosis
I go where the problem lives before deciding what to design. Interviews, observation, stakeholder mapping — no assumptions, no shortcuts. The goal is to understand the system before touching it.
I make complexity navigable
Systems mapping · Circular thinking · Service blueprints
I translate messy reality into structures that make sense — for users, teams and organizations. Every solution is designed to generate value in loops, not just solve the immediate brief.
I ensure it actually ships
AI integration · End-to-end ownership · Digital products
Strategy without execution is decoration. I stay through implementation — integrating AI tools naturally, bridging design and engineering, until the thing is live and working.
bloomUp Nexus connects sports organizations with the right solution providers — through an AI-powered assessment that turns sustainability data into actionable matches.
The sports industry talks a lot about sustainability. But between the networking events, the vague commitments, and the growing regulatory pressure, most organizations face the same three problems:
bloomUp Nexus originated from a role-playing session with four sports organizations — where each participant took on a role outside their own to understand how sustainability is experienced across the organization.
Other departments struggle to think in numbers. Sustainability needs a financial language to get budget.
The sustainability narrative is strong internally but feels abstract to everyone else — it lacks tangibility.
Marketing manages too many stakeholders and creates pressure across teams without always realizing it.
Operations wants simplicity. It resists new complexity and prefers familiar providers over unfamiliar ones.
These tensions shaped the core design principle of bloomUp Nexus.
Give every stakeholder the same data, in the language they actually use.
The framework was shaped by interviews with sustainability leaders across European sports organizations — to understand where existing tools broke down before designing new ones.
The core insight was architectural: if the assessment data model is designed correctly, the same 33-indicator object can simultaneously evaluate an organization's maturity and calculate its compatibility with any provider in the network.
Standard ESG covers three pillars: Environment, Social, Governance. bloomUp Nexus adds two categories specific to the sports context:
Organization maturity report — category scores across the 5 ESG pillars
Organizations submit documents — sustainability reports, internal policies, certifications — and Claude extracts evidence across all 33 indicators. No documents? A structured form collects the same data through direct questions.
Every score passes through seven anti-inflation rules: conservative defaults when evidence is ambiguous, caps on aspirational language ("we plan to" = max Level 1), and partial-coverage limits. A defensible Level 2 is more useful for matching than an inflated Level 4.
Once both sides are scored, the match engine runs in pure code — no AI needed. For each of the 33 indicators, it compares where the organization is with how far a provider solution can take them.
A fourth Claude prompt generates the match narrative — explaining specifically why each recommendation makes sense, which indicators show the strongest alignment, and where the provider cannot help. That last part is intentional: credibility comes from honesty.
Solution providers ranked by Match Rate — with category-level breakdown per provider
The assessment is in active use across 50+ sports organizations in Switzerland, Germany, the Netherlands, France, and Belgium — running as a core bloomUp service.
Version 2 introduces the provider network. The scoring infrastructure is already built. What is in development now is the provider onboarding flow and the match report format — the layer that turns a diagnostic tool into a marketplace.
A living operational memory for boutique hotels. Built from the signals staff already produce — every shift note, every observation, every decision — structured into intelligence that compounds over time.
I started with a question: why do well-run hotels keep making the same operational mistakes?
The answer wasn't a lack of data. It was that the data was never connected to decisions — and decisions were never connected to outcomes.
When I started researching how boutique hotels actually operate, I kept finding the same pattern. A front desk manager notices a guest seems uncomfortable but has no way to log it. A bartender remembers that a certain type of guest always orders the same thing — but that observation never reaches anyone.
The problem wasn't that hotels lacked data. It was that the most valuable operational knowledge — the human kind — had no place to live. I designed Nexus to capture exactly that, before it disappears.
Hotels identify underperforming zones before they cost revenue. Every recommendation comes with a predicted outcome — and a record of whether it held.
When staff rotate, the hotel doesn't start from zero. Every observation, every decision, every outcome stays in the system. The knowledge compounds.
Staff observations become part of the intelligence. The people who run the hotel train the system — not just the data their tools produce.
Operational knowledge lives in people, not systems. When staff rotate — and they always do — the hotel starts from zero.
Decisions happen without a record. Nobody knows what was predicted, what was tried, or whether it worked. The same mistakes repeat.
Data exists everywhere — PMS, POS, staff observations — but nothing connects it into something a GM can act on tonight.
The biggest objection I heard from GMs wasn't about the technology — it was about trust. They needed to know the system couldn't be used against their guests. So Nexus never stores who did what. Identity is stripped at the moment of capture. What remains is a behavioural pattern, not a person.
Early in the research, I noticed that GMs had learned to distrust recommendations — because nobody ever proved they worked. Every suggestion Nexus makes is a bet: the prediction is recorded before the outcome is known, then the result is written next to it automatically.
Nexus reads what is already there, stamps each event with zone, time, and category, and strips the identity at the edge — before it travels anywhere.
The first structured pilots are running with hotel operators in the Netherlands, Switzerland and the UK. The system is in active training — learning from real operational inputs, refining its models with every shift.
This is not a prototype being tested for feasibility. The question being answered now is whether the system learns fast enough to be useful within a single season.
Team
Nexus is being built with an AI engineer and a visual designer.
The brief was about immersive experiences. What emerged from the field was something harder to design: the people, the dynamics, and the unwritten rules that no process manual could capture.
I spent weeks eating with hotel staff every day. Not interviewing them — eating with them.
I joined their breaks, learned their routines, and listened to what they talked about when nobody from corporate was in the room. That was the method. You can't design for people you don't understand, and you can't understand people you haven't sat with.
Before defining any solution, I interviewed 100 travellers from 45 countries — not hotel guests, not executives. People who travel, who seek experiences, who know the difference between a service that performs and one that genuinely connects. The answers were as diverse as the cities I was working in. That diversity wasn't a problem to solve. It was the insight that shaped everything.
There was no connection between the corporate team and the people working in the hotels. Decisions were made far from the context where service actually happened.
Each location operated under its own unwritten rules — shaped by local culture, politics, and community dynamics that no standard process could anticipate.
The people delivering the service had no framework to make decisions that stayed true to the brand while adapting to their own context.
Standard consulting would have produced a standardised process. I did the opposite. Each team faced different pressures, different communities, different definitions of what good service means. The solution wasn't to standardise the service — it was to develop the judgement of the people delivering it, so they could adapt without losing the brand's essence.
To anchor that, I needed to define what the essence actually was — in words that everyone, from executives to housekeepers, could recognise as true.
A hotel experience isn't linear. I mapped it as an interconnected system of moments — where each element creates sub-experiences that feed back into the whole. This became the shared language between teams who had never had a common framework before.
The artefacts weren't deliverables. They were decision-making tools — designed so that the management team could evaluate every experience against the brand's essence, without losing it in the process.
The canvas was the co-creation tool. It gave teams a structured way to design new experiences — not by following a template, but by reasoning through what each experience needed to achieve, for whom, and why.
My role ended with the delivery of the manual. What I witnessed before leaving was a team that felt heard — possibly for the first time in a corporate process. Staff who had been skeptical of the project started using the language we had built together.
What happens next is theirs to build. That was always the point.
The first digital transformation and innovation department in Peru's insurance industry. The hardest part wasn't building the product — it was convincing the organisation it was possible.
When the board approved the digital transformation initiative, the technical roadmap was clear. What nobody had mapped was what was underneath: teams that didn't understand why their legacy systems needed to change, staff afraid of being replaced, legal and IT departments with significant internal influence and deep resistance to anything that touched the existing infrastructure.
The conflict between IT and our area wasn't technical — it was political. And navigating it required the same discipline as designing the product itself.
Internal teams were organised around legacy processes — not around user needs or product workflows.
The gap between what customers expected digitally and what the organisation could deliver was significant.
Design thinking was new to the organisation. Every research finding was a political negotiation.
We were the first innovation and digital transformation department in Peru's insurance industry. That meant we had no precedent to point to — every decision, every methodology, every tool had to be justified from scratch.
The biggest battle was with IT and Legal. Moving from legacy systems to AWS wasn't just a technical migration — it was a challenge to how the organisation understood risk, ownership, and control. I ran proof of concepts specifically designed to speak their language: not "this is better," but "here is evidence that nothing will break, no data will be lost, and your position in the organisation is safe."
When the design thinking phase came under pressure — because research produces insights, not prototypes — we held our ground. We brought back findings that senior managers had never considered. That was the turning point. Quick wins became our currency, and internal ambassadors became our strategy.
The process covered the full double diamond — from field research and stakeholder interviews, through wireframes and prototypes, to validated solutions. In an organisation that had never worked this way, every phase had to be justified.
The mobile application launched with five modules and generated measurable impact within the first quarter. But the outcome that mattered most happened inside the organisation.
At company events, our work started being recognised not just for what it built, but for how fast it created value. Other departments began allocating budget to us for their own challenges.
We didn't just deliver a product. We demonstrated that this kind of work was possible here — and that changed what the organisation believed it could do.