About Me…

I used to think my future was sealed the day I said I wanted to be a doctor. For years, I walked a path shaped by certainty, discipline, and the quiet expectation to do what was safe. But what I really loved wasn’t diagnosis—it was connection. I was drawn to people’s stories, to understanding what they needed, and showing up with something that could make them feel seen. At first, I thought that meant medicine. But it turned out, it meant design.

Michael Jordan helped me realize that. He mirrored everything I hoped to be: powerful, precise, unapologetically human. He didn’t just play—he embodied something bigger than himself. Watching him, I realized I didn’t want to follow a script. I wanted to create something that made people feel.

That realization didn’t happen in isolation. The women in my life shaped every corner of it. My grandmother believed fiercely in the education of women; my mother modeled authenticity in every room she entered. They taught me that creating isn’t about decoration—it’s about declaration. It’s about honoring what’s been passed down while designing what comes next.

My Indian-American identity lives at the heart of everything I make. Some days, that shows up in the textiles I use—deadstock silks, sustainable fabrics, beaded borders pulled from repurposed saris. Other days, it’s quieter: in the way I tell a story through form, or choose color with cultural intention. Whether it’s a bag inspired by flower vendors or apparel shaped by sari draping, I’m always designing between two worlds—and trying to stitch them together.

I realized what drew me to medicine was never the science—it was the empathy. Design lets me act on that same instinct. But instead of stitching wounds, I stitch meaning into form. I see materials as tools for storytelling and silhouettes as vessels for emotion.

To design well, I knew I had to understand people deeply. So I studied culture, identity, and systems—how we move through the world and how the world moves around us. Courses in anthropology, African and African American studies, and gender theory helped me decode not just what people wear, but why. They taught me to listen before sketching. Observe before building. My process always begins with a story—because I’m not just designing for users. I’m designing with them.

I’m Neha Ponnapalli. A designer grounded in story, shaped by heritage, and driven by the quiet belief that empathy is the sharpest tool we can bring to the table.