Billed as being "perfect for boats, parties and restaurants," Edmund Scientifics' The Incredible Spill Not is simply a 13-buck gizmo that combines a flexible strap with a rigid arm and base. While at first it may seem somewhat silly...
...you can't deny that this thing would be useful on a boat:
Can something go viral when you intend it to go viral? Apparently so, particularly as we become more gullible as a society. While Jimmy Kimmel's twerking fire and hotel wolf videos at least had an element of believability to them, this latest makes me despair for people's reality filter: Since its launch yesterday, Facebookers have been eagerly promoting this video purporting that Back to the Future 2's hoverboards now exist.
Sweden-based Erik Åberg has created a rather crazy system of hinging cubes together. Even more interesting is his background: Åberg is a professional juggler.
There's a subset of juggling done with not balls, but boxes: "Cigar box manipulation," as it's called, dates all the way back to the days of vaudeville, and we surmise it has led Åberg to his creation. Before we get there, we'll show you what cigar box juggling looks like. The following video is of juggling legend Kris Kremo, and scanning through the video should give you the idea. (Don't miss what he starts doing at 2:34!)
I love Japanese over-design. As an industrial designer, are you not awed by their willingness to fire up a whole new tooling line to create some product to tackle even the most minute, mundane problem? Case in point: Check out Mitsubishi subsidiary Uni's Promark View highlighter, which pushes the tip out to the end of a clear piece of plastic, so you can see precisely where you're highlighting. The only visual obstruction is the thin straw feeding the water-based ink out to the felt.
The Promark's chunky body will take up an undue amount of space in your pencil jar or pocket, but perhaps it's not designed to be stored in either: As this Japanese pen reviewer has noted, the wide, flat cap means it can stand up on your desk.
Posted by Kat Bauman
| 28 Feb 2014
In a good, pixelated way. LEBLOX was created by Mathieu Lecoupeur and Soy Phompraseuth and it's coming your way... someday. Combining the worldwide love of 8-bit anything and our irrational desire to reproduce our own faces and images ad nauseum, LEBLOX lets you turn anything into a low-res 3D object. The French design team hopes to support an interactive community, sharing designs, advice and art. Towards that they've built what looks like a simple, user-friendly app to design and test prints you'd like to make right on your phone. The app is due to be released "soon" according to their exceptionally uninformative website. I suppose their work speaks for itself.
One of our first assignments as industrial design students should have been to design and build our own carrying cases. But no, we students were too busy being taught crap like theory, so we all coughed up twenty bucks for a plastic ArtBin. Which is a shame. A simple modular toolbox would have been relatively straightforward to design and build, while providing us with the perfect, individualized product to field test and tweak the design of over the course of a semester.
From Germany comes what they're calling the Toptainer, seen here. Once loaded up with tools, it's meant to fit into an older plastic Systainer design.
Ever since spotting that unique, hinged toolbox that Matthias Wandel did a video of, we've been wondering where it came from. The German marque Würth can clearly be seen on Bruhn's box. The Würth Group is a Germany-based global wholesaler of tools and hardware, but it does not appear that they designed the box; a German manufacturer of cabinetmaker's tools callled E.C. Emmerich sells an identical box, as does hardware manufacturer Häfele.
Far as we can tell, it's a German company called Domini Design that actually designed the thing. They call it the Mobilo Box, and it comes in a variety of sizes. The Mobilo Box 43 is the smallest version, "suitable for managers," as Domini says (read: people who don't really need to get their hands dirty):
If you want to spread design in an evangelical way, what do you need? A showroom filled with objects? A distribution company to get them from the factory to the end user? A collective of artisans and designers? Workshops to educate consumers about design? In the case of Diego Paccagnella's company Design-Apart, an organization "committed to design as a living process," all four of these things.
Our team brings the process and products of Italian design out of the atelier (art catalog, industrial village, hi-tech laboratory) and directly to customers around the world online and in living showrooms. Advances in technology and methods of production allow us to offer even the most arcane and specialized craftwork at competitive prices. Bespoke, for us, goes beyond handmade and custom. It's a dynamic product of relationships between people, materials and ideas in space.
Check out their sweet video of things being made in Italy:
Posted by Ray
| 24 Feb 2014
It's not a perfect hybrid of these fluorescent felines and trophy handlebars, but close enough. The Finnish Reindeer Herder's Association is reportedly testing a special spraypaint to increase the nighttime visibility of the 200,000 caribou in their custody. Per AP:
Anne Ollila of the Finnish Reindeer Herder's Association says the antlers of 20 reindeer have been painted with various fluorescent dyes to see how the animals react and whether the paints are resistant to the harsh Arctic climate.
If successful, animals with glittering antlers will be free to roam Lapland—a vast, deserted area in northern Finland where herders tend to some 200,000 reindeer.
Ollila says reflectors and reflective tape have proven unsuccessful as reindeer have torn them off—and road signs warning drivers of roaming reindeer often are stolen by tourists as souvenirs.
"Don't patronus me." (And don't pretend you get the HP reference)
Made by Swedish company Albedo 100, I assume it's a bio-friendly retroreflective paint; here's a demo video of presumably the same paint on a dog and a horse:
It's hard to believe that Fujifilm and Kodak were once competitors. Whereas Kodak declared bankruptcy in 2012, following one business failure after another, Fujifilm should be a business school case study on how to deal with tough economic times and a signature product that the world is telling you is obsolete. How does a company that made their name in film stay relevant in the age of digital photography?
We industrial designers can of course appreciate Fujifilm's retro-designed cameras, but there's more to the company's success than that: They've survived and thrived by focusing on the user experience. While they address the physical design of the cameras, they then look beyond it to ask themselves: What role does photography, and photographs themselves, play in people's lives?
There's only a slight satisfaction that comes from snapping your smartphone into its case. As designers we know that the case was injection-molded specifically for that phone, with a 0.005" tolerance and some draft angle; in other words, the damn thing is supposed to fit perfectly. Similarly, a diner will enjoy the concept of a turducken more than the chef who put in the elbow grease to cram all of those meats in there.
However, there's a huge amount of satisfaction that comes from slipping one object inside of a second, unrelated object and finding out they fit together perfectly by pure accident. It pushes our OCD buttons and our brain's pleasure centers light up on the MRI. I have no idea why this is, only that it is, and now there's a Tumblr I can't stop looking at called Things Fitting Perfectly Into Other Things.
Sure, it's just a coffee mug with an extra piece of ceramic stuck to it, and two squiggly lines representing a stern mouth. But with a catchphrase like "DEAD OR ALIVE, YOU'RE DRINKING A TEA," the RoboCup aims to win over those of us raised in the '80s with its persuasive copy:
- Generously sized crime-fighting vessel—half man, half mug
- Drink away those haunting submerged memories
- Made from a superhuman hybrid of flesh, steel and ceramics
- Produced by OmniCup
- I'd buy that for a dollar! But for you, a mere £12.99
That's US $21.59, which we recognize is kinda steep (no pun intended) for a mug, and twice the price of a ticket to see the new Joel Kinnaman version. But unlike that 49%-on-Rotten-Tomatoes reboot, this mug will actually hold water (pun intended). It's for sale on Firebox.
Posted by Kat Bauman
| 17 Feb 2014
Everyone gets a bit stir crazy during the winter, but the least we can do is use it to our advantage. Some of us make elaborate travel plans for warmer days, some compulsively reorganize our possessions and workspaces, most of us spend a lot of time researching large quantities of alcohol. And then there are people like Baku Maeda, an artist whose frustration with the cold leaves ours in the slush.
Canadians are the nicest people in the world, right? Well, not where their precious beer is concerned. As part of an ad campaign, Canadian brand Molson created a special refrigerator that only opens for their own countrymen, then loaded the things up with free beer. They subsequently dotted European countries with them under the hidden camera conceit (staged? You be the judge) and let folks figure it out:
So how'd they make the thing? No Canadian technology, this; instead they turned to UK design and physical special effects firm Artem. If Molson couldn't keep it real, they at least kept it Commonwealth:
The urchin followed me down the street, cajoling. I was backpacking through Hanoi, and this poor kid living on the street had latched onto me with his broken English, claiming that no matter what it was I wanted, he could find it and sell it to me. In fact I'd been looking for a particular book written by Vietnamese writer Bao Ninh, and in those pre-Amazon days I asked the kid if he could find an English-language copy, as there were no bookstores I could see on Hang Bac Street. I was shocked when he returned with a faded copy of the book in an hour, and I gladly paid him the asking price: US $15.
I'd become friendly with Quang, the young Vietnamese manager of my hostel and showed him the book. Quang was surprised I wanted it and asked how much I paid for it. When I told him, he became incensed: "That book is $1.50, not $15," he said. He barked something to a cyclo driver outside and the two of them set off. Thirty minutes later they returned and pulled me out into the street, where a crowd had gathered.
Quang knew the urchin, had tracked him down, and bloodied his nose. I was horrified. Quang stood up on a box, cupped his hands to his face and began yelling an explanation in Vietnamese to the passersby, which caused more of them to stop and listen. The cyclo driver translated for me: Quang was telling everyone that this kid was a thief who had ripped off a visitor to their country. The crowd grew visibly disgusted and a small queue spontaneously formed. People—housewives, day laborers, people carrying stuff to the market—each took a turn approaching the urchin and unleashing a one-sentence verbal smackdown before departing. At the end, despite my protests, they forced the kid to apologize to me.
Coming from a then-high-crime neighborhood in Brooklyn, where my neighbor's apartment was robbed so thoroughly that they took the sheets off of her bed, this was astonishing to me. My limited experiences in Communist countries like Vietnam or Cuba has shown me that things weren't about the money there, because there was no money to be had. And when people are not motivated by profit, they instead adhere to whatever moral code they were raised under. Nowadays the economic structure is different in Vietnam than it was sixteen years ago, and you can legally earn an American buck, as young game developer Dong Nguyen has done with his Flappy Bird app. So it probably seems shocking to us Americans that after raking in US $50,000 per day with his app—this in a country where most earn just US $2,000 per year—Nguyen shut the app down.
'Toto Wooden Dolls' by Artek. The villagers, called Martta, Kerttu, Aaro and Eemil, are made by turning wood and finished with painting by hand.
The 'Toto Wooden Dolls' were designed by Kaj Franck in 1945 as collectables for the Finnish magazine Kotiliesi.
Here's a quick round-up of some of the noteworthy stuff we came accross at the Accent on Design section of the home and giftware show NY NOW (f.k.a. NY International Gift Fair), which faced some stiff competition last weekend, coinciding with Chinese New Year festivities and the Superbowl. This year's show was loaded with some really impressive ceramics, as well as Tom Dixon's ever-expanding catalog of products, and it was great to see so many young designers with really solid product photography, personal branding, and marketing collateral. Check out the highlights below:
Ceramic 'Buddie Vessels' by Mirena Kim.
'Nest' storage containers by Joseph Joseph with their signature color-coding.
Rocking wooden and brass paper-weights 'Tipsy' by Bower.
Congrats to Danny Giannella and Tammer Hijazi of Bower, our pick for the "Bloggers' Choice Awards"
My new printer arrived, it's wireless. While setting it up I had to put my glasses on. It took me so long to do that I instinctively turned my head and yelled for my wife to fetch my son to show me how to do it, but then I rememebered that I am unmarried and childless.
Because I don't have kids, my friends who've successfully bred don't forward me child-based YouTube videos, leaving me in the dark as to current child-rearing trends. So I was surprised to see this video of a father giving his daughter a ponytail using a vacuum cleaner:
My first thought was, Well, this is why the terrorists hate us Americans. But it seems this trend has crossed the pond, as there are videos of Brits doing it:
Posted by Kat Bauman
| 31 Jan 2014
Are you tired of recognizing and enjoying your background jams? Do you strive to have a sonically obscure yet socially sharable music collection? This weekend give a listen to songs literally no one has tried out on Spotify. Forgotify is dedicated to bringing songs with zero plays to an audience of at least one.
The offerings are understandably wide-ranging—apparently there are a lot of stray songs in the world, 4 million if you ask the guys at Forgotify! You'll find off-brand covers of yesteryear pop hits, symphonic arrangements of classical classics, and truly difficult to explain foreign soundtracks. Something is bound to strike your fancy, or at least raise an eyebrow.
After spotting the photo below (which is one of those endlessly, shamelessly Pinterested-shots with no attribution, making tracking down the original creator impossible), Nagoya-based Tori Sugimura figured he'd try making a traditional Japanese version.
After successfully learning to craft his tiny power-outlet-covering sliding shoji screen doors, he caught the attention of a Japanese television show; the original clip is here, for Japanese speakers. Interest in Sugimura's wares subsequently exploded, and they're for sale on his Tori Craft website.
Uhhh, that's a cross-section of a ship
I'm impressed by a shipyard's ability to dry-dock a cruise ship. I'm also impressed by limousine manufacturers being able to cut, stretch and weld a Town Car.
It never occurred to me that these two pieces of manufacturing prowess could be combined, but several years ago, Hamburg-based shipyard Blohm + Voss—who've been plying their trade since 1877—received a commission to "stretch" a cruise liner. Watch and be amazed as they transform the Norwegian Crown into the Balmoral, the latter ship being 90 feet longer than the former:
[Editor's Note: This post has been edited to reflect a comment regarding the physical nature of nixie tubes.]
In this age of digital displays, it's hard not to appreciate the old-school aesthetic of a nixie tube. To individually bend ten different digits out of
cold cathode neon tubes the cathode, then stuff all of them together in a little glass dome—i.e. the tube itself—is perhaps needlessly labor-intensive but provides a clearly legible readout with an Edison-bulb vibe.
Sydney-based Duncan Hellmers is of the same mind. "[Nixie tubes] fit in well with today's aesthetic trends but still retain that sense of nostalgia and sentimentality," he writes. "I'd seen quite a few tube clock designs online, but couldn't find one whose character matched what I was after, so I decided to design my own."
Posted by Kat Bauman
| 22 Jan 2014
Since the dawn of time, high fashion has recycled low... and congratulated itself for doing so. Antique Japanese boro fabric, increasingly popular among the edgy styluminati, is simultaneously co-branded couture, lowbrow folk tradition, and literally recycled. Boro traces its lineage to the traditional cloths used and reused and re-reused by rural farmers, artisans, craftspeople and laborers between the 18th and 20th centuries. Before cotton was widely available in Japan, the most commonly used fibers came from tough and abundant sources like jute, wisteria and bast. Rough stuff for sure, but resistant to wear and tear. As cotton production increased and cotton products began to spread, used cotton kimonos and other textiles became available at more affordable prices.
Exploded diagram of a kimono, Boro fabric exploding at the seams
Tasteful French gallery show of other people's old workwear
To get the most out of these valuable softer fabrics, they were patched over and over, sometimes being torn into strips and rewoven, integrating the tougher materials for reinforcement. Dyed textiles would often be taken apart, redyed and rewoven in multiple iterations, creating a deeply textured and mottled appearance over time. Sometimes you can find signs of a fabric's earlier life, like the darker strip on a blanket where a kimono collar used to be. The most recognizable boro fabrics feature an array of indigo hues, carefully patchworked with strong quilting or darning stitches. (For a good time, look up "sashiko" stitching, which literally translates as "little stabs." Quilting is pretty metal.) The patches on most boro fabric, while varied in color and size, are usually square or rectangular. Coincidence? Nope, nor a cultural obsession with rigid angles. It's another sign of efficiency and good design.
Is there anything more frustrating than when product designers get something right, only to screw it up in successive iterations of their design? Think of anything you've owned two versions of where the power switch has now been moved to an inconvenient location, or the metal construction of a crucial part has been swapped out for plastic, or positive-click buttons have now been made spongy.
NYC-based filmmaker Casey Neistat encountered one such generational design flaw with "The Almost Perfect Camera," Canon's S120. Previous iterations of the camera—Neistat's favorite—had the microphone aimed towards the subject; the new model has it pointed towards the sky, which creates ergonomic interference. Unsurprisingly, Neistat went at it with boxcutter, epoxy and ice cream stick to fix the problem:
This shot might be of Coach, but this guy's modelmaking skillz are first-class
Get this man a job as a modelmaker.
Luca Iaconi-Stewart learned to make architectural models from paper in a high school class, and found he enjoyed it. Rather than pursuing a career in architecture, Iaconi-Stewart subsequently embarked on a crazy project to build a detailed scale model of a Boeing 777, entirely out of paper.
The man has spent five years on the yet-to-be-completed project, and even sacrificed college to continue on it.
What's made out of leather, already broken-in, and gathering dust in the closet of most red-blooded American males of a certain age? A baseball glove. And for every one of you that still pulls yours out in the spring, there are probably nine of us that prefer to wear out the leather in our armchairs.
A company called Fielder's Choice Goods has been getting their hands on this worn-leather bonanza and turning ex-mitts into wallets, belts and keychains.
If you've got the bucks, an HD projector is a cool alternative to a television. It's about as unobtrusive as it gets, turning any white wall into a screen larger than the biggest LED or plasma screen you can buy. But installing a projector is a pain—I helped a buddy hook one up, and mounting it to the ceiling required us making a custom plate for it, then dragging the ladder back and forth to find the perfect spot for it, not to mention drilling into a stamped-tin ceiling. Then came the PITA of getting cables to the thing and having to drill supports for the cables along their length. And once it's up and running, if you find you need to make physical adjustments to the thing or de-dust it after a period of months, well, time to break out the ladder again.
Sony's brilliant design solution to projector hassles is their 4K Ultra Short Throw Projector.