Cherif Gueye, the founder of VIJN, is reimagining how we connect with each other through the simplest yet most essential items—everyday objects. With a background shaped by a multicultural upbringing, spanning Senegal and the United States, Cherif’s life has been a fun blend of community, creativity, and a deep love for building. Raised in a large family compound in Senegal, he learned the true value of community through the country’s renowned hospitality and this spirit of connection became the backbone of VIJN, his tactile design company. Through innovative products like ergonomic bowls crafted to encourage interaction, the goal is to bring people together in meaningful ways.
In this interview, we dive into Cherif’s journey from content development and marketing to founding VIJN, exploring how his passion for creating shared experiences sparked the brand's inception. We talk about his thought process behind designing objects that foster real-life connections, the challenges he’s faced, his unique approach to collaboration with artisans, and the future of VIJN as it continues to grow into a brand that blends art, design, and community-building.
Tell me about your journey, and background, and how that has influenced your work right now.
I was born in New Jersey to two Senegalese parents, but by the time I was one, I went back home to live with family in Senegal. We lived in a large family compound, which isn't as grand as it sounds, it was about 40 family members sharing a house. That's where I grew up from ages one to six, and it instilled in me a deep sense of sharing. I still keep my baby pictures on the mantle, especially those from my birthdays, which I consider some of my favourite memories—getting all the kids together to play, riding bikes, and just enjoying each other’s company.
In Senegal, we're known for our hospitality, or 'Teraanga' as it's known to us. Fridays, in particular, stand out to me. After Jummah prayers, my aunt would make lunch in a large pan and always prepare a second one, telling us to invite the neighbourhood kids. As a child, I thought it was just a fun gathering, but as an adult, I realised it was about fostering a sense of community and taking care of one another. When I moved back to the U.S. at age six, I felt completely separated from that way of life.
I grew up in Greenville, North Carolina, about a four-hour drive south of Washington, DC. My family was the only Senegalese family in the area. I took English as a second language class, and I would often get asked, "Why are you here?". From ages 6 to 10, it was tough dealing with feeling so "othered" and different. But I kept going, and by my teenage years, I was surrounded by other first-generation kids. My whole friend group was made up of first-generation kids, and we stayed tight even when I started community college.
At community college, I developed a strong interest in writing. I wanted to be a journalist, but as a first-generation immigrant, I felt the pressure to support my family and knew that journalism wouldn’t be lucrative early on. So, I shifted my passion for writing toward learning about social media and public relations. After that, I transferred to NC State University to finish my four-year degree. Upon graduating, I landed my first job as an assistant publisher for Adidas Originals in Portland, Oregon. Portland is another place where I felt "othered" as it's predominantly white, but ironically, it helped me connect more deeply with my African identity. I met a lot of Nigerians, Zimbabweans, and Ghanaians, and we formed a tight-knit group at Adidas.
After two years at Adidas, I was approached by Netflix to work on creative marketing campaigns, which led me to move to Los Angeles, where I’ve been living for the past seven years. At Netflix, I worked on campaigns for young adult shows, developing 360-degree marketing strategies. My passion for writing evolved into crafting briefs to describe shows in a way that would excite audiences through marketing.
I left Netflix right around the start of the pandemic, which led to a whirlwind of freelance projects with Hulu, Amazon Studios, and in the music industry. By the end of 2020, I joined Bleacher Report to work on sports shows. Bleacher Report is a platform in the U.S. that covers sports through social media and YouTube, and I was hired to produce shows for both YouTube and TV. After two years there, I stepped out again to focus on developing my own businesses.
The first venture I started was a strategy business, where clients from various industries I had experience in would bring me in to help build their rollouts and launches for products and services. During that time, I also began thinking about how I could create something of my own. That's where the idea for a product company resurfaced. I became deeply interested in design—specifically, how design could be used to bring people together. That’s the core vision behind VIJN.
VIJN, pronounced ‘vision,’ was built as a platform to connect people together and the way I’ve chosen to do this is by designing objects we use in our everyday lives, expanding their function and purpose. We debuted on September 18th, 2024, with a dinner party that had no tables. The concept was to take a space, place 25 people in a circle where they could all see one another, and have them use the first product we designed: ergonomic bowls. These bowls sit comfortably in the hand, making it easy and secure to pass around. They’re kitchen-ready, and crafted at the highest quality in Portugal.
At the event, we served a five-course meal entirely using these bowls. After each course, guests would point to a stranger and sit next to them for the next course. While it started off a bit awkward, by the end of the night, everyone had made new connections.
In December, we had a two-week holiday pop-up at Soho House, where people could interact with the elements and shapes we designed. Now, we’re preparing for a new dinner series and other exciting projects. The core purpose of VIJN remains to bring people together, and we achieve that by designing and expanding the function of everyday objects.
We started with bowls, but we’re expanding into other categories—essentially, anything you use daily. We believe VIJN can redesign these objects and use them as a conduit to foster connection. That’s the journey, from the start to where we are today.
That's very inspiring and impressive as well. It's very nice to see everyday objects coming to life in ways that spark wonder. You touched a bit on how you got here to VIJN. But I wanted to dig into that a little bit more. How did you go from content development, marketing and so on to VIJN? What exactly was that inspiration for you to own your own brand?
I’ve been in my corporate career for nearly nine years now. During that time, I’ve worked on so many projects for other people, whether it’s corporations, Hollywood companies, or friends. I’ve given a lot of my time and energy to bringing other people's ideas to life. Through that journey, I’ve always been fascinated by business—understanding not only the creative side but also the mechanics behind it. That’s what got me into some of these rooms in the first place.
I’m a very curious person with many hobbies, and in 2021, I picked up ceramics. As I got into it, I started thinking about how we interact with everyday objects, especially ceramics, in a practical sense—how they feel in our hands. Often, ceramics are made to be beautiful objects that sit on a table, but I thought, “What if we focused on creating something that’s not only beautiful but also strong, something meant to be held and passed from hand to hand?” That thought process became really important to me, as I wanted to put my own perspective into the things I was making.
This shift also reflected a deeper transition for me. I’d been working on other people’s projects, getting offered projects with alcohol-based ventures that didn’t align with my values as a Muslim man. As I stepped into my 30s, I realised it was a blessing to help others, but I needed to create something of my own, something that reflected my values. It became crucial to me not just to work for money but to ensure that my work aligned with how I wanted to contribute to the world.
That’s when VIJN came into being. VIJN was the first project where I truly put something out there on my own, and it was nerve-wracking at first. I was so used to working with big names, and here I was launching something personal, even down to its unique spelling. But it’s been a beautiful exercise in faith. Above all, I’ve wanted to show gratitude for my faith and have it reflected in the business I build, the problems I solve, and the values I offer to people.
So, creating VIJN became about building something that reflects me, my community, and the person I want to grow into.
There are a couple of things I find interesting here. Before you mentioned it, I was going to ask if VIJN was an acronym but it's interesting to know it's just a different spelling of ‘Vision’. How did that come to mind?
To me, the word "vision" represents the idea of building a life that reflects your chosen values. While I spend a lot of time on my laptop and phone, I have so many hobbies and interests that encourage me to put them down. I play chess, do indoor climbing, play soccer, and hike. These activities help me disconnect from the digital world and immerse myself in the beauty of real life. That’s the vision of life I hold, one that's uniquely mine.
When I chose the company name, I wanted a word that felt huge, but with a playful twist, like misspelling it to give it character. It's one of those names where people who know it will understand how to spell, pronounce, or say it correctly. I love how I still get people saying it wrong! My intention is that, over time, more people will recognise it as “vision” and learn the story behind it—a story about building a vision not just for myself but for others too.
When we created these bowls, we designed them in sets of three, primarily for eating. But I've seen people use them in their own unique ways—some for decorating, others for planting moss trees or arranging Ikebanas [Japanese art of flower arrangement]. That’s exactly what "vision" means to me: making something, whether it’s an object or a space, that allows others to create their own vision of how to use it. It’s open to interpretation, and that’s the beauty of it.
That's nice, truly. With regards to being outside of your devices, many people are going back to that. Just really connecting with the world in general. And it brings me to my next question. You make a lot of these things for community sake, I wanted to know how you ensure the artisans, the retailers, the creatives and the people that you build for feel included and a part of something bigger.
On the artisan side, I mentioned earlier that I believe writing is my core skill—communicating clearly is key. When working with artisans, whether it's a designer shaping a product or a chef I hire for an event, I aim to be efficient with my words while giving them the space to bring their own flavour. For example, I hired a well-known LA chef, Naj Austin, for a dinner event. All I told her was, "We're having dinner in these bowls, no table, and no utensils. We want shareable, finger foods. What comes to mind for you?" She was surprised I didn’t give her specific instructions. I simply said, "You're the expert. You know what you're doing, and your focus on interactive eating aligns perfectly with this concept."
I like to give people the most straightforward brief possible and leave room for their creativity. Often, they exceed my expectations, which reinforces the trust I want with my creative partners. I want VIJN to be a platform where these artisans can shine and bring people together. Because, in the end, real-life connection is far more meaningful than anything online. We're all getting detached, thinking connection is just about social media, but nothing beats in-person interaction. That's why I align with creatives who share this belief and trust them to bring their own "sauce" to the project.
As for the audience, I think about storytelling as a way to show people how much better real life is compared to digital life—without forcing it. We’re all online, using laptops and phones daily, so it's not about rejecting technology. It’s about creating a narrative that real life is still the best, especially when it comes to interaction. I'm obsessed with the idea of reclaiming interaction for the analogue world. If you Google "interaction" today, you mostly find digital references, but at its core, interaction is about the exchange between people. It existed long before computers. So when I talk about bringing people together, I mean true interaction—getting people to share, talk, and connect.
Everything we create, from objects to spaces, reflects this philosophy. We want people to remember they can choose to engage with the world in more tactile, real ways. Even my hobbies reflect this. Recently, I posted on Instagram about climbing with friends. After focusing heavily on products in the past year, I realised I needed to show more of the hobbies that inspire me. Whether it’s climbing, playing chess, or writing letters by hand, all of it ties back to my passion for tactility and real-life interaction. That’s why I describe the company not just as a design company, but a tactile company. We make real objects for real spaces and real people.
At the end of the day, my goal is to help people reconnect with the physical world through the choices they make—what they use, where they go, how they spend their time. It’s all about reclaiming the quality of real life through interaction and being mindful of the world around us.
That flows right into what I wanted to speak on next, the colours and the textures of the pieces for VIJN feel very intentional even just from looking at them on socials. How do you choose them? How do you know exactly what to do next? And what's the intentionality behind these pieces?
Intentional, we get that word a lot and it’s by far one of my favourite words. It's necessary when we talk about the problems we're trying to solve—bringing people back to real life, being present, and using good products. There’s a sense of intentionality in everything we do. There are so many bowls, design companies, and people in this space. But the intentionality we bring—whether in the textures or the colours we choose—ensures that everything feels specific from the start.
Take the first three colours of our bowls. One is called "Dune," a sand exterior colour with an orange and pink interior. Like a sunset on a beach or desert. The idea was to create something subtle, where the outside fits seamlessly with someone’s interior design, but the inside has a pop of colour. Then there's "Wave," inspired by ocean waves. This blue bowl is for people who want their ceramics to be a statement piece. Finally, we have "Green," the most popular. It has a deep, almost midnight-blue interior and a forest-green exterior. We designed these pieces and produced them in Portugal, known for some of the best ceramics in the world—not just for quality but for kitchen readiness. The bowls are microwave-safe, BPA-free, lead-free—none of the bad stuff that’s often found in everyday products.
When we visited Portugal to see the product being made, we were blown away by the inspiration around us. "Wave" was inspired by the massive 100-foot waves at Nazaré, a coastal city known for having the biggest waves on Earth. "Green" came from a train ride I took through a forest, where the blur of trees felt like an endless sea of green. These colours are deeply tied to the experiences we had while bringing this product to life.
And future colors will continue to reflect intentionality. We’re thinking about a brown hue that represents the unity of our community in LA, where we have many Nigerians and Ethiopians. This deep brown will reflect the beautiful skin tones around us that unite us. I'm really trying to be observant of what surrounds me, using that as a way to stand out.
I'm learning more and more that the more I tap into the specificity of my life—my hobbies, my communities, my interests—the more intentionality naturally flows into what I create. That’s what I want people to feel. Whether it resonates with you or not, I want you to look at our products and think, "This feels one-of-a-kind." That's the feeling I want to evoke every time.
And you can see it even from the products. I was going to say I had a favourite colour, but I really don't. I like all of them a lot, but I think brown would most likely be my favourite.
It's a special one. Every time people see it, I have it here in my house, it moves them. The deep, rich brown paired with the almost-orange inside creates an interesting contrast. Orange is my favourite colour, and whenever I think about us as young Africans, especially those of us in the first generation living in LA, we've been so intentional about building this community. We've been focused on fostering this sense of connection.
When I'm around everyone, orange is the colour I feel—bright, potent, and deep. I see brown, but I feel orange. It's about being thoughtful, simplifying things, and connecting stories. Even when I work with artisans or creatives, or when I brief myself, I aim for simplicity. I believe working with what's right in front of you will make you stand out because the things I choose to focus on are so specific and unique.
I was just telling a friend last night, who shoots all of our work, that I'm growing more confident in showing people the spaces I see. They stand out immediately. For example, you see our bowls in dining settings, and then all of a sudden, they're being used for climbing. I have a new product coming this year—an everyday object built with a climber's mentality, connecting two worlds that usually don’t intersect but are both growing fast.
I’m realising I can do this over and over again, because I cross-pollinate so many different areas. I don't have to try too hard to be intentional; I just need to show people what’s in front of me, and they'll see it. It's my community, and it’s authentic to us. That’s why intentionality means so much to me. In a world that’s so loud, I think we need more of it.
The difference is that there's no disconnect between you and the product or you, your community and the products and that shows, which is why the word comes up a lot. You've mentioned that you have a lot of African communities. I would like to know how that plays a role. How does the creativity of Africa and Africans play a role in your brand?
The core of my work goes back to my time in Senegal from ages 1 to 6, where I learned the value of Teraanga—hospitality. While I develop products across many categories, we've begun to see plenty of solutions for objects related to hospitality, like bowls, utensils, and other essentials. This is rooted in our culture, where connecting through food is the most fundamental way we bond. Sharing a meal, and gathering around food—this is central to how we, as Senegalese people, connect with one another. You could argue that prayer is important, but eating together is our number one way of building community.
This philosophy is at the core of who I am. As I grow, I see many African brands emerging in the worlds of fashion and beauty, like what Paakow is doing with MIZIZI or what Daily Paper represents. Brands like Ami Cole in the beauty space are also making waves. I want to carve out a space for myself in design and hospitality that bridges the gap between the African diaspora in America and those born and raised in Africa—whether in Senegal or Nigeria. I have ideas for developing products in Senegal and want to see them come to life.
For me, it all goes back to how we, as Senegalese people, live: we make something and bring people together around it. That's the essence of Senegalese culture. My vision is to take that approach to many areas. I want to create across various touchpoints—make something, gather people, and let the community shape how it's used and the stories we tell around it. That's why I started with a tactile company; it's a platform to bring people together. By making something and gathering people around it, they dictate its use and the narratives that emerge.
For most Africans, there's always a sense of community—coming together and sharing is super special to us. So it's great to see that it plays a part everywhere. VIJN is still quite young, what have been some of the challenges or learning experiences you’ve had?
Challenges… It’s tough building a business, especially one that feels so personal. Being vulnerable with something that’s entirely your own isn't always easy. I’m in LA, surrounded by an amazing community of first-generation Africans and other talented people. But so often, I see everyone flexing these big projects with big names attached to them, which can be intimidating.
I’m launching something completely new, and it feels like I’m giving a piece of my heart away. The pressure of putting what I believe in out there for public consumption while staying intentional and focusing on what’s in front of me is huge. Mashallah, I have a younger brother who's a business prodigy. He runs three thriving financial businesses in Senegal. What I admire about him is how detached he is from his work—his businesses aren’t a reflection of his personal interests. He keeps it cut-and-dry, and that’s smart.
For me, it’s different. This work is my heart on display, and I hope it convinces people to give me their time, energy, and money. I constantly question whether that's the right approach. Should I be commodifying my passions for bringing people together and creating cool things? My intuition tells me yes. I’m blessed to be in a position to have a positive impact. I want to be an example of putting something meaningful out there with consistency. But still, the challenge of exposing that part of myself is real.
Another challenge is patience. I have big visions for the future, and I’m faithful that more will happen than I can't imagine right now. But I have to remind myself that even successful companies I look up to have been around for at least 10 years. I’ve only been at this for five months. Naturally, there’s some impatience. I intend to build a team of people who think about this VIJN with me every day. Right now, I’m doing it mostly on my own, and while I collaborate with creative partners on a project basis, I long for that day when I have a core team.
It’s all about generating revenue, getting people to see themselves in my business, and trusting the process. The two biggest challenges I face are putting a piece of my heart out there and practicing patience. Beautiful things will continue to happen, and over time, I’ll earn more responsibility and trust. I just have to keep going and stop looking at the clock. One day I’ll look up, and it’ll be five years later, and I’ll have a community around me, bringing energy and ideas. So, yeah, patience and heart—those are the keys.
A lot of creatives struggle with the points you’ve just raised. You’re putting out something you’re very connected to and you can get different responses or no response at all. Before we go on, you mentioned, quickly, the photographer and videographer that work on VIJN’s visuals and I wanted to give a shout out to them because the visuals are stunning. My final question would be for you to share any future plans. You've touched on the new colour, and that there’ll be new products, what more can you share?
How do I do a lot without doing a lot?
Lately, I've been working on something where, instead of laying everything out upfront, I hold back on specifics until things are finished. It’s a practice in humility, but I’ll say this: I’m fascinated by the idea of juxtaposition—bringing together things from different worlds that don’t seem like they belong. What you can expect from me is a lot of that.
I have three new products lined up, and a series of events that tie into these passions. A year from now, some people will get it immediately, seeing how these different elements fit together. Others might not understand at all, thinking we’re scattered. And I’m excited for both reactions. I want people to feel seen if they, too, have multiple interests that they want to bring together—or to question why we don’t stick to just one thing forever.
That’s the beauty of it. Expect juxtaposition, expect a collision of things you wouldn’t think go together, but through design and the act of bringing people together, it will become clear why they should coexist. I want to help break that mold, and I think you’ll get it.
Absolutely. Thank you very much for this conversation, It’s been inspiring. Looking forward to what VIJN has in store.
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