Paul Vizzio

It’s a big deal because this wasn’t designed as a “design award product”—it was designed to solve a real problem well. So having it recognized from a design perspective validates that usability, engineering, and thoughtful details matter just as much as aesthetics. It also means a lot coming from New York, since the product was built specifically for city life.

It’s helped reinforce credibility, especially as a small brand competing with much larger companies. Awards like this open doors—whether that’s partnerships, press, or just giving customers more confidence when they discover us for the first time. Internally, it’s also motivating. It shows that the extra effort we put into engineering details doesn’t go unnoticed.

Experimentation is everything. With the Sutton Slide Leash, the locking mechanism went through dozens of iterations. We tested different friction systems, geometries, and materials to get something that could adjust quickly but still hold under load. A lot of those versions failed—either slipping, jamming, or being too complex. The final design came from simplifying, not adding more.

Honestly, just walking around NYC. Watching how people juggle a dog, a phone, coffee, groceries, and sometimes a stroller—all at the same time. That chaos is where a lot of the ideas come from. It’s less about traditional “design inspiration” and more about observing real behavior.

Good design usually looks simple, but it’s rarely simple to achieve. A lot of work goes into removing friction—physically and mentally—for the user. That often means more engineering effort, not less.

In consulting work, I’ve learned that the best outcome usually comes from aligning on the problem, not the solution. If you’re clear on the problem, you can push for better ideas without it feeling like you’re ignoring client input. With RemieDog, we’re effectively designing for ourselves as users, which helps keep that balance honest.

The biggest challenge was creating a leash that could truly adapt between multiple use cases—wrist, waist, cross-body—without adding complexity or failure points. Most solutions either compromise on adjustability or durability. We solved it by focusing heavily on the locking mechanism and material selection, and by testing it in real daily use instead of just lab conditions.

I step away from the screen and go outside—walk the dog, spend time with family, or just move around the city. Most good ideas don’t come while forcing it; they come when you’re actually using the product or living the problem.

Practicality, durability, and honesty. We don’t design for trends—we design for how something will be used every day. Being a family business also plays a big role. Everything we make is something we actually use ourselves.

Learn how things are actually made. Manufacturing, materials, assembly—those constraints are where good design happens. Also, focus on solving real problems, not just making something look good.

I’d be interested in collaborating with someone like Yvon Chouinard. His approach to product design is very grounded in real-world use—build something that works well, lasts a long time, and avoids unnecessary complexity. That kind of function-first thinking is something I try to carry into everything I design.

"What trade-offs did you have to make?”

Every product is a series of trade-offs—cost, durability, usability, manufacturability. The interesting part isn’t just what features made it in, but what didn’t and why. That’s where most of the real design decisions happen.