Expert Interview: Julie Marlow NCDIQ, WELL AP, IIDA

Updated: September 12, 2026

ABOUT OUR EXPERT:

Julie is a Strategist & Interior Designer with NCIDQ certification, WELL accredited professional & Healthy Materials Advocate. With a bachelors degree in Psychology from Georgetown University and graduate degree in Interior Design from Parsons, The New School for Design, she uniquely combines her diverse experience to translate research into actionable strategies and develop thoughtful, human-centric environments that support holistic wellbeing and performance.

Believing in the power of design to elevate the holistic human experience, Julie brings a novel storytelling, insight-driven perspective to the design field. She has strong background in visioning and concepting through to design execution, partnering successfully with a variety of organizations and partners to help them navigate the complex world of research, strategy and design to see their vision come to life and get a return on their investment.

Julie has worked at 3 of the top 10 Architecture and Design firms in the world, working on more than 1M+ sf on commercial, healthcare and education projects globally. She has also been a featured presenter, guest speaker and facilitator at a number of industry events and platforms, including International Interior Design Association (IIDA) and International Facilities Management Association (IFMA).

Connect with her on LinkedIn to learn more.

THE INTERVIEW:

Julie Marlow brings a rare interdisciplinary lens to interior design — rooted in psychology, deepened at Parsons School of Design, and sharpened by over 15 years in designing curated environments that elevate the human experience. Today she is a unique voice in human-centered design, specializing in the intersection of materials, wellbeing strategy, and the built environment. Her work spans WELL-certified workplaces, healthcare environments, and educational spaces, with a consistent through-line: every design decision is a decision that impacts the holistic human experience.

Why do healthier materials matter to you — and how did this become your professional north star?

My background in psychology taught me to ask why before how. That instinct followed me into marketing and eventually into design. When I arrived at Parsons for graduate school, I encountered the research on materials and human health — and the gap between what the science showed and what our industry was actually doing was striking. Materials like PVCs and VOC-emitting products were commonplace, accepted almost as default, yet the evidence linking them to poor health outcomes — childhood asthma, respiratory issues, endocrine disruption — was substantial and growing.

The realization that hit me was this: we design spaces for people to live, work, heal, and learn in — yet the industry was routinely specifying materials that worked against those very goals. That disconnect felt like more than an oversight. It felt like a moral failure. From that point on, I made it a professional commitment: sustainability and wellness would not be a line item or a client upsell. They would be embedded in how I practice design, on every project, regardless of budget or brief.

“We design spaces for people to thrive in — yet we routinely specify materials that work against that goal. That disconnect is more than an oversight. It’s a moral imperative to do better.”

Is this mindset shared at the firms you’ve worked with, or do you find yourself driving it from within?

Both — and the distinction matters. Large firms make important macro commitments: signing the AIA Materials Pledge, setting sustainability targets, publishing ESG reports. That visibility is valuable. But institutional goals only translate into project outcomes when the designers and architects doing the daily work understand the why behind them. A policy without cultural ownership is just paper.

My approach inside firms has always been twofold. First, lower the barriers — reduce the anxiety around sustainability by making it accessible, not intimidating. Second, find the entry point that resonates with each person. Some designers connect through human health data. Others connect through client experience or through the craft of making better things. Once you find that thread, momentum follows naturally.

I’ve also learned that humility is non-negotiable in this work. You don’t change minds by making people feel behind or wrong. You change minds by meeting people where they are, showing them what’s possible, and celebrating incremental wins. That approach has allowed me to build what I think of as a “wellbeing tribe” inside larger organizations — a network of multi-disciplinary practitioners who are actively advancing these goals project by project.

“A sustainability policy without cultural ownership is just paper. Real change happens when designers understand the why — and feel empowered to act on it.”

Walk us through your approach to materials selection and the tools you rely on.

I always start with vision, values, and goals — not with certifications. Certifications are tools, not destinations. I use a “tool belt” analogy with teams: LEED, WELL, Living Building Challenge, FITWEL — each of these lives on your tool belt. Once you deeply understand what a project is trying to achieve and who it’s designed to serve, you reach for the right tool for that job.

From there, I layer in context: project type, occupant demographics, durability requirements, budget realities. A healthcare environment demands a different materials conversation than a tech workplace. Mindful Materials is a platform I rely on heavily — it allows me to filter by certification, transparency documentation, and material health attributes simultaneously, so I can start with a goal and find products that genuinely support it, rather than reverse-engineering compliance.

The critical discipline I try to instill in teams is this: certifications tell you a product meets a threshold — they don’t tell you it’s the right product for this space and these people. Always interrogate performance, durability, end-of-life, and occupant experience alongside the credential. Also, don’t rule out products that don’t have any certifications as many smaller manufacturers, particularly those in Europe, have more stringent guidelines they need to adhere to yet they may not have the budget to achieve certification.

What strategies do you use to advocate for healthier, more sustainable specifications — especially when there’s resistance?

Language is the first lever. The word “sustainable” can trigger budget anxiety and scope creep fears before a conversation even begins. I reframe around outcomes: employee retention, productivity, absenteeism, occupant comfort, brand alignment. These are the metrics that resonate in boardrooms and client meetings — and the research connecting healthy built environments to these outcomes is robust and growing.

The second lever is specificity. A product with five certifications is impressive — until you probe whether it performs in the intended application, whether its manufacturing process is clean, and whether it will last. I encourage teams to hold certifications as a starting point, not an endpoint. Ask: Is there something better? More durable? Something that won’t need replacing in five years? Looking at a material’s full lifecycle — performance, maintenance, end-of-life — almost always reveals a stronger, more defensible specification.

Tell us about a project where this approach made a measurable difference.

One that stands out is a WELL v2 Gold-certified workplace I completed in Denver for a renewable energy company. The client’s instinct was sustainability-first — that was in their DNA. But when we began exploring certifications, we found that their real priority was employee wellbeing and organizational culture. WELL was the right framework because it directly addressed what they cared about: their people.

We designed for biophilia, circadian lighting, optimized acoustics, and indoor air quality — each decision anchored to IWBI research connecting these factors to measurable outcomes in focus, engagement, and physical comfort. What made this project successful wasn’t just the specification — it was the narrative we built around it. We held a number of employee tours where we’d walk employees through the space and explain, concretely, why it was designed the way it was and what it was designed to do for them. That’s a powerful thing: when a space becomes a communication of organizational values.

The timing also mattered. Post-COVID, questions about indoor air quality and comfort in shared spaces were important for everyone. We leaned into that context deliberately, prioritizing a variety of work modes — focus rooms, collaborative areas, quiet retreats — so employees had genuine choice in how and where they worked best.

I subsequently presented this project at IFMA’s Workplace Design and Wellness conference, where the questions from facilities managers underscored something I believe deeply: healthy building design doesn’t end at handover. It requires contractors who understand the vision, facilities teams who maintain it with care, and ongoing organizational commitment. Wellness is a practice, not a punch list.

“When a space becomes a communication of organizational values — that’s when design does its most powerful work.”

I’m also watching closely how neurodiversity is reshaping the workplace design conversation. Customizable work, collaborate, socialize and rest areas that adapt not just ergonomically, but acoustically, visually, and in terms of privacy, will become a standard expectation. Inclusive design and wellness design are converging — and that’s exactly where we should be headed.

What advice would you give to designers who want to lead in the healthy building space?

Find your people. This work can feel isolating inside organizations that aren’t yet prioritizing it — so building a community of practice is essential, not optional. I co-founded Denver Designers for Resilience alongside Stephanie Spingler, bringing together practitioners from DLR Group, Perkins&Will, HOK, Gensler, and others to share resources, strategies, and honest conversations about the challenges. Those relationships have been invaluable. I’ve also been active in the IIDA Sustainability Council, which is another powerful network for this work.

Ask questions without apology. Not everyone will have answers, and that’s fine. What matters is keeping the questions alive — in your firm, on your projects, in your industry relationships. The moment we stop asking is the moment we leave impact on the table.

And be strategic, not heroic. You can’t do everything on every project — and trying to will burn you out. Instead, identify the top five to ten materials with the largest square footage on a given project and make those your highest-leverage wellbeing decisions. That focused approach consistently produces meaningful impact without overwhelming teams or budgets. Progress compounds. Every project that gets this right builds the case for the next one.