Designing for Transitions: 3 Prototypes

Marinating in burnout? Have you tried building another prototype?

This is part of a series of posts exploring assignments for a class on designing for behavior and experience, taken as part of a master of science in experience design program.

While that subhead seems loaded with snark, it holds true. I spend most of my day in front of a computer, so any chance to build something with my hands is always a pleasant escape.

The assignment is based on designing for transition, shifting into a different future. We were asked to develop a research question to investigate and then create prototypes that explore the concept.

I’ll be honest, I’m having a very difficult time narrowing down a direction. I was initially exploring areas such as using translating DNA to music in order to diagnose genetic conditions (too narrow), leveraging synesthesia to translate music (would just be something cool), and code-switching (got a raised eyebrow on this one). I then shifted to investigating wearables that help with PTSD flashbacks (more of a now thing than a future thing), and have been since exploring the eventual convergence of therapeutic delivery
as fashion.

Imagine a future where therapeutic delivery becomes so ubiquitous that these devices are now our clothing. Diseases and disorders aren’t going anywhere; as long as there is a financial gain associated with medicinal therapy, there is no incentive to cure them. Incredibly depressing, but that’s our reality.

As I attempted to further refine my focus, I had to build three prototypes in order to explore the research question. I focused on wearables that would work with biometric sensors to stimulate the vagus nerve while the wearer is having a panic attack. These sensors would apply machine learning to the biometrics gathered and eventually predict an onset, delivering the cold therapy before or at the start of the attack in order to minimize it.

Prototype 1: Fluid Chestpiece

The idea behind this prototype was to create an external biological transport system, modeled on blood vessel and neural structure, that would wrap alongside vagus nerve points. Upon being triggered, it would deliver and circulate a cold liquid until sensors note that vital signs have dropped back to their usual baseline.

Pipe cleaner preliminary prototype, assembled in class, reconstructed in my nook.

Sketches for this article and other ideas on disguising IVs as reverse epaulets next to supplies.

To build this prototype, I ordered airline tubing (used in aquariums) along with connector pieces and a USB pump. The pump opening was too large for the airline tube, so that eliminated the possibility of having an automated functioning piece.

Attaching tubes together is harder than it looks. There’s a nice chunk of skin missing from my index finger.

I also realized you can’t just put a connector in the center of a tube. Hot glue helps, but it wasn’t ideal.

Building this structure out of tubes and connectors proved cumbersome until a friend suggested I heat the tubes. That made all the difference.

Having successfully connected the bottom pieces, I removed the top glued section and rebuilt it properly.

During this building session, my brother called me in a panic as my mom had to go to the ER for a possible blood clot. So my time was spent assembling tubes and searching for flights to Atlanta.

Cousin Grey and I were also having a side conversation, reviewing D-Dimer stats while trying to reassure my brother. It helps when you’re a scientific illustrator, your cousin is a phlebotomy tech, and medical jargon is our third language.

It ended up being minor inflammation, but I essentially rode an emotional rollercoaster from 6 pm to 12:30 am. The finished prototype looks more like a hexagon structure than branching blood vessels, but that’s only because I ran out of airplane tubes.

Wearing the tube prototype.

I also tested it with a syringe to see how liquid would travel through it. The connectors worked, but some parts need to be sealed.

Testing water movement in my clean sink that needs a good bleaching for those rust stains. It works!

Prototype 2: Stress Bolero

For the second prototype, I was inspired by protection, armor, chainmail, and the act of envelopment. This would be an article of clothing with embedded sensors that also delivered the cooling sensation and imply functionality with light.

I drew this while simultaneously assembling the tubes and texting my brother. The idea is to have the sensor material cover you rather than connect at strategic points.

While sourcing materials, I came across these bathmats for $1.25 each. As bathmats meant to be used in a tub, they are not ideal; thin, slippery, and prone to breakage. As a material, their structure and pliability is perfect.

Intact bathmat (left), cut bathmat (right). As usual, I’m eyeballing everything.

After cutting the mats, I attempted to glue them with hot glue. This did not work, so I resorted to sewing them together, which allowed for quick readjustment (just cut and stab).

Although the material was thin, I had to use pliers to move the needle through the layers.

After sewing the pieces together, trying the piece on, and adjusting accordingly, I lazily wove a strip of LEDs through it just to test the effect.

I had a full day of work and a 5 hr class so I look ROUGH. Not sure I like how it looks with the LEDs off (left) and the intensity of the LEDs was too bright (right)

At this point, I asked my friends who suffer from anxiety how they would feel about this device. An informal question delivered via social media can be a valid source of ethnographic research, even prompting participatory design. Most commented that it was a cool idea but the bright green lights would only aggravate them further. I considered this as I made adjustments to the form of the bolero (it was too boxy) and reduced the number of LEDs. I also adjusted its affordance to demonstrate that it turns on when you lift the collar.

The adjustments make it look more ornamental and the reduced LEDs make it less jarring. It may still be too much for my anxious homies, but it looks cool.

Prototype 3: Privacy Crown

My informal inquiry yielded common insights; most people do not want to draw attention to the fact that they are experiencing a panic attack. In fact, they mostly just want to hide. The stigma is real and this feedback cemented that we are currently not at the point where showing this kind of vulnerability is normalized. My friends were incredibly brave to share this aspect of their lives with me and it inspired me to design something specifically for this need. My time was shorter during this round, so this is a bare-bones prototype.

While attempting to construct my project brief, I had created a sketch based on a welding helmet that would deliver the cooling therapy when lowered, containing a screen that would translate sounds into visuals to help soothe you; a portable isolation tank of sorts.

The initial sketch, which got translated into a physical prototype below.

Pipe cleaner and construction paper prototype based on the sketch above, created in class. Creepy, dystopian, effervescent. Probably not the best direction, but my friends would definitely wear it for the sole purpose of disturbing others during their daily commutes.

Its affordances scream “leave me alone, I’m trying to get to my happy place”, but we’re not going in this direction. I had another bathmat that I attempted to cut up, but it was too stiff, wouldn’t accept glue, and felt uncomfortable on my head, so I used the same material as the second prototype.

Two rounded edge pieces are secured with a twisty tie to a metal headband. I wanted this to evoke curtains.

After cutting and attaching the pieces to the headband, I played with how to move them towards and away from the face. During that exercise, I accidentally folded it atop my head in a crown shape. It pleased me. I sewed a button clasp to the bottom and decided to weave a wire through the edge so that you could adjust the curve and better encompass the face.

Pro-tip from my injured thumb: if you’re using frayed wire, put a bead of hot glue on the end to avoid unnecessarily stabbing yourself while weaving.

The wire wasn’t as helpful as I thought; a thicker solid wire would be better. However, I am pretty satisfied with the shape and the functionality of this piece. It is incredibly simple, but effective in facilitating isolation.

The crown in the raised position. It looks like a bathing cap from the side and I was hoping the wire would mitigate that.

The crown in the lowered position. The sides swivel from the top and close with the button clasp. The wire is helping to curve this material to the edges of the face although it’s not making as crisp an edge as I had hoped.

The therapeutic mechanism would be activated via an accelerometer once you pull the sides of the crown over your face. It has the added bonus of obscuring your face, giving you a portable boundary while still allowing you to be aware of your surroundings. If I pursue this device, I might investigate a second transparent layer to further obscure the face and a visual indicator. It is the embodiment of the phrase “hiding in plain sight.”

I’m excited to see where these paths lead, as well as the prospect of playing with more of these materials in order to solve a facet of a wicked problem.