Across Europe, a small group of companies occupy a unique position between manufacturing, culture and design.

Often referred to as heritage design brands, these are businesses whose histories span decades or even centuries and whose products have helped shape the visual identity of entire regions, movements or lifestyles.

Names such as Iittala in Finland, Alessi in Italy, Vitra in Switzerland, Georg Jensen in Denmark, Lalique in France and Hermès in France have all transcended their original role as manufacturers. Their products are not simply bought and used; they are collected, exhibited, discussed and, in some cases, preserved in museum collections. The value of these companies lies not only in the quality of their products but also in the cultural capital they have accumulated over generations.

Yet heritage can be both an asset and a burden. While legacy provides authenticity and credibility, it can also create the risk of becoming trapped by the past. In an increasingly digital, globalised and experience-driven economy, heritage brands face a central question:

How can they remain relevant without losing the characteristics that made them distinctive in the first place?

The recent collaboration between Finnish glassworks Iittala and designer Sabine Marcelis provides a compelling example of how leading heritage brands are attempting to answer that question.

Founded in 1881, Iittala occupies a special place in Nordic design history. The company is perhaps best known internationally for iconic works such as Alvar Aalto's vase, a design that has become synonymous with Finnish modernism. Throughout its history, Iittala has consistently explored the relationship between material, function and nature, helping to define the aesthetics of Scandinavian design.

Its latest collaboration, Unda, created with Rotterdam-based designer Sabine Marcelis, continues this tradition while simultaneously pointing towards the future. Named after the Latin word for wave, the collection draws inspiration from the movement of light across rippling water. The resulting lamps and vases capture reflections and distortions that appear to shift continuously as lighting conditions change.

What makes the project particularly significant is not merely its aesthetic outcome, but the innovation that took place behind the scenes. Working with Iittala's master glassblowers in Finland, Marcelis helped develop a new production technique that allowed ripple patterns to be pressed into the interior surface of mouth-blown glass rather than applied externally. According to Iittala, this was a manufacturing approach the company had not previously achieved, requiring extensive experimentation and collaboration between designers and craftsmen.

The development of new production knowledge is becoming one of the defining characteristics of successful heritage brands. In a world where manufacturing technologies can be replicated and products copied with increasing ease, competitive advantage often lies in specialised expertise that accumulates over decades. The most valuable intellectual property is no longer necessarily a patented product, but rather the combination of tacit knowledge, craftsmanship and technical capability embedded within an organisation.

This is one reason why collaborations have become such an important strategic tool for heritage manufacturers. Historically, companies such as Iittala built their reputation through long-term relationships with a relatively small group of designers. Today, collaborations serve a broader purpose. They introduce fresh perspectives, attract new audiences and create opportunities to experiment with materials and production methods that may not emerge through traditional product development processes.

A similar strategy can be observed across the heritage design sector. Alessi transformed itself from a metalware manufacturer into a global design icon by inviting architects and designers such as Philippe Starck and Michael Graves to reinterpret everyday household objects. Vitra continually balances its stewardship of twentieth-century design classics with collaborations involving contemporary designers such as the Bouroullec brothers and Jasper Morrison. Georg Jensen combines more than a century of Scandinavian craftsmanship with partnerships that allow the brand to evolve beyond its historic associations with silverware. Lalique has similarly preserved traditional crystal-making techniques while expanding into collaborations that position its products between luxury goods, decorative arts and collectible design.

Despite their differences, these companies share a common understanding: heritage cannot survive through preservation alone. It must be actively reinterpreted.

The Unda collection illustrates how that process of reinterpretation is increasingly centred on storytelling. Contemporary consumers are rarely purchasing objects solely for their functional value. Instead, they are drawn to products that communicate ideas, evoke emotions and connect them to a broader narrative. In the case of Unda, the story is rooted in Finnish light, Nordic landscapes, water and craftsmanship. The products become vessels for those associations, transforming a vase or lamp into something richer than a purely utilitarian object.

This emphasis on narrative reflects a wider shift taking place within luxury and premium markets. As products become increasingly similar in terms of technical quality, emotional resonance becomes a key source of differentiation. Successful heritage brands understand that they are no longer selling objects alone. They are selling experiences, identity and cultural meaning.

At the same time, the value of craftsmanship is being reassessed. During much of the twentieth century, industrial progress was measured by increasing automation and production scale. Today, many consumers perceive handcrafted production as an expression of rarity and authenticity. In an economy saturated with standardised products, visible evidence of human skill has become a luxury attribute in its own right.

For companies such as Iittala, this shift presents both opportunities and challenges. Their traditional production methods provide a powerful point of differentiation, but these skills are increasingly difficult to sustain. Glassblowing, in particular, depends on highly specialised expertise that requires years of training and access to dedicated production facilities. As skilled craftspeople retire across Europe, many heritage manufacturers face the urgent task of transferring knowledge to a new generation.

In this context, collaborations such as Unda serve a purpose beyond product development. They help justify investment in craft capabilities, create visibility for specialised skills and demonstrate the continuing relevance of traditional manufacturing in a contemporary market.

Looking ahead, companies like Iittala are likely to evolve further into what might be described as cultural manufacturing brands. Their factories will function not only as production sites but also as centres of knowledge and creativity. Their products will increasingly occupy the intersection of design, craft and collectibility. Their collaborations will act as vehicles for innovation and cultural relevance. Most importantly, their heritage will be treated not as a static archive, but as a foundation upon which new ideas can be built.

Viewed through this broader lens, the significance of Unda extends far beyond a collection of lamps and vases. It represents a case study in how heritage design brands can navigate the tension between tradition and innovation. By combining craftsmanship, contemporary design, technological experimentation and compelling storytelling, Iittala demonstrates a path that many heritage manufacturers may need to follow in the decades ahead.

In an era when digital products dominate much of everyday life, the enduring appeal of these companies may lie in their ability to offer something increasingly rare: objects that embody human expertise, cultural memory and a tangible connection to place. Far from being relics of a disappearing industrial past, heritage design brands may prove to be among the most relevant creative businesses of the future.

Hermès: Reinvention Through Craft

If Iittala demonstrates how a heritage manufacturer can remain relevant through design collaborations and material innovation, Hermès provides perhaps the strongest example of how craftsmanship itself can become the foundation of a modern global business.

Founded in Paris in 1837 by Thierry Hermès as a maker of harnesses and saddlery, the company emerged during a period when mobility was defined by horse-drawn transportation. Like many heritage businesses, its original market eventually faced structural decline as technology transformed society. Yet rather than becoming obsolete, Hermès repeatedly reinvented itself by applying its expertise to new categories while preserving the values that had made it successful in the first place. What began as a specialist workshop evolved into one of the world's most admired luxury houses, expanding into leather goods, ready-to-wear fashion, silk, jewelry, watches and home collections. Throughout this evolution, craftsmanship remained at the center of the company's identity.

The story of Hermès challenges a common assumption about innovation. In many industries, innovation is associated with disruption, speed and technological breakthroughs. Hermès follows a different model. Its innovation is rooted in continuity. The company regularly introduces new products and enters new markets, but it does so through the lens of artisanal expertise and long-term thinking. This balance between tradition and adaptation has become one of its most important competitive advantages.

A defining characteristic of Hermès is its commitment to preserving and transmitting know-how. The company has consistently invested in training programs and workshops dedicated to developing future generations of artisans. Rather than outsourcing production to lower-cost regions, it has continued to strengthen its manufacturing ecosystem, viewing craftsmanship not as a cost to be minimized but as a strategic resource to be protected and developed.

This philosophy has important implications for heritage brands across industries. In an era defined by automation and globalized production, specialised human skills have become increasingly scarce. As a result, craftsmanship itself has acquired economic value. What was once seen as a limitation of traditional production can now function as a source of differentiation, authenticity and pricing power.

Hermès demonstrates that consumers are willing to pay a premium not simply for a product, but for the story of how it was made, who made it and the traditions embedded within it. The physical object becomes a carrier of cultural meaning, connecting the customer to a broader narrative of expertise, dedication and continuity. This approach mirrors developments seen in companies such as Iittala, Lalique and Georg Jensen, where manufacturing knowledge has become inseparable from brand identity.

The company's long-term success also highlights the importance of what might be called living heritage. Many organizations treat their history as a static archive, celebrated through anniversaries, museums or historic products. Hermès takes a different approach. Its heritage remains active, informing contemporary product development and inspiring new forms of creativity. Historical techniques are preserved not for nostalgic reasons but because they continue to generate value in the present.

This distinction may prove crucial for the future of heritage manufacturing. The brands most likely to thrive in coming decades will not be those that merely preserve the past. Instead, they will be those capable of transforming tradition into a platform for innovation. Heritage will increasingly function as a source of intellectual property, cultural capital and technical expertise that competitors cannot easily replicate.

Viewed in this context, Hermès represents more than a luxury company. It offers a blueprint for how heritage brands can navigate technological change, evolving consumer expectations and global competition without sacrificing their identity. Its success suggests that the future may belong not only to the fastest or most technologically advanced companies, but also to those capable of preserving and reinvesting in uniquely human forms of knowledge. In a world increasingly shaped by digital experiences and artificial intelligence, the enduring value of craft may become one of the most powerful assets a company can possess