Australians like to insist that we don’t really have winter. This is usually said by someone standing outside in a T-shirt, or by a European who has never spent July inside a Sydney rental built in the 1940s.
My apartment has many of the period details people tend to admire in real estate listings. Less is said about the gaps around every window, the uninsulated floorboards and the apparent absence of anything useful between the ceiling and the roof. During a cold snap, the thermometer inside often reads little differently to the overnight minimum outside, and it can stay that way well into the afternoon.
Like plenty of people living in older Australian homes, I have developed an improvised winter strategy involving socks, jumpers, blankets and an unreasonable amount of time spent deciding whether turning on the heater is really worth it. The heater itself works perfectly well. The issue is that much of the warmth immediately disappears through the windows, floorboards and every other escape route the building has kindly provided.
Which raises a fairly obvious question. Why am I paying to heat an entire apartment when, most of the time, only one person is sitting on the couch?
It is a question Dutch company Stoov has been answering for more than a decade with a range of cordless heated cushions, blankets and seat pads designed to warm the person using them, rather than all the air surrounding them. The principle is familiar to anyone who has used a heated car seat. The cabin can still be freezing, but once your back and legs are warm, the urgency to crank the climate control quickly disappears.
Curious about the thinking behind the idea, I recently sat down with Stoov founder Teun van Leijsen and Head of Product Development Lisa van Steenbergen to learn how a broken heated car seat evolved into a company reconsidering the way we keep ourselves warm.
For Teun, the idea first appeared more than 20 years ago after he bought a second-hand car with heated seats that no longer worked.
“I’m not a technical guy, but I’m a curious guy,” he tells me.
He opened the seat, examined the technology hidden inside it and was surprised by how straightforward the basic principle appeared.
“Why is this only in car seats?” he remembers thinking.
Then life continued. Teun concentrated on his job and the question receded into the background, occasionally returning without becoming anything more concrete. Almost a decade later, he was married, expecting his first child and living in a home with a small garden.
His wife loved sitting outside, but once the evening became cold, she would inevitably head indoors. Teun wanted her to be able to enjoy the garden they had waited for, so he bought the necessary components and began assembling a heated cushion in his shed.
She loved it, although he concedes that she may not have been the most impartial product tester. More importantly, the prototype showed him that the technology worked perfectly well outside a car.