At the recommendation of a friend, I watched the documentary ‘Objectified’ on Vimeo. It’s about the world of product design and the philosophy of some of the leaders in the field. With the documentary made in 2011, the array of cutting-edge products featured are already looking dated. Creating a timeless classic is an elusive thing. It made me realise that even with talk of designing for longevity and saving the planet, most of the designers existed as instruments for their clients – in exchange for their investments, the clients wanted ever newer stuff to sell. Many of the designers were quick to defend their position.
Jonathan Ive
Apple’s original Head of Design, Jonathan Ive, who had a closely shaven head and a toned body encased in a tight-fitting grey T-shirt, eulogised about the wonderful detailing of Apple products and their passion to stamp out waste during the production process. And there can be no doubt that Apple products are beautifully engineered and designed. But there was no talk about the relentless pursuit of selling new replacement versions of their iPhones, laptops and watches. We are expected to upgrade yearly, tossing away what is in itself a marvel of manufacturing technology and ingenuity.
Dieter Rams, less
This is in direct contrast with the view of German designer Dieter Rams, who believes that well-designed products should last a lifetime. This has been proven by the longevity of Rams’ own 606 Vitsœ shelving system design in the 1960s, which is still in production and does last forever. The irony is that the iPhone has had many more design decisions made during its complex creation, but it has become a yearly throwaway fashion item with inbuilt obsolescence – a shocking indictment of 21st-century design.
One half of the concept for a revolutionary toothbrush.
On the topic of longevity, ‘Objectified’ features a brainstorming session where a group of excitable, young, T-shirted designers, armed with Magic Markers and Post-it notes, had gathered in the London offices of design consultancy Ideo to ‘redefine the toothbrush’ – how it could be made more sustainable, how to reduce plastic waste, etc. After a morning of intense discussion, enthusiasm and a wall covered in multi-coloured messages and drawings, they came up with the earth-shattering idea of a detachable brush head.
This was followed by much CAD drawing, and 3D model making and construction to end up with an uncomfortable marriage of a Scandinavian-style wood-stemmed spoon handle fused onto a plastic toothbrush head. It looks pretty clumsy, and I don’t recall ever seeing it on sale, so perhaps the whole thing was staged to highlight an example of ‘design thinking’ in action. Better to have suggested bamboo toothbrushes with eco-friendly, plant-based bristles (below) – job done.
But thank goodness there were great examples of design longevity from two masters: Dieter Rams and Naoto Fukasawa. But my attention was diverted from what the product designers designed to what they were wearing. I have written in the past about the political class and their sartorial choices, in particular the inmates of the House of Lords (link at the end), but I digress – let’s stick to the ‘design tribe’ and their dress code.
I live in Clerkenwell: an area in London with a high percentage of architectural firms. Looking out of my studio window at lunchtime, I witness a steady stream of young, ethnically diverse architects, all clad in regulation black. It’s amazing and consistent across most architectural firms.
Just four of many key architects who favour black
But then again there are always detractors.
Richard Rogers green is the colour.
such as Richard Rogers, with his love of apple-green, collarless shirts, combined with lapis lazuli slacks, or his partner Mike Davies, whose mode of dress is entirely devoted to the colour red.
Mike Davies, the man in red.
I am assuming that it’s not just a surface thing and am imagining that he wears red Y-fronts – actually, I don’t want to imagine that. The doyen of contemporary interiors, Terence Conran, is more conservative, but he has consistently favoured Klein Blue shirts to stamp his brand colour.
Terence Conran in his signature Klein Blue shirt.
Artists originally wore smocks to protect their clothing, and many industries spawned practical and protective industrial clothing.
Henri Matisse in a fetching brown artist smock.
In the 1940s and 50s commercial artists wore them like Abram Games.
The US railroad workers’ dungarees and jacket and the French farmworkers’ jacket are classical, hard-wearing and practical items that found their way into the hearts of many designers, the only difference being that they wear a tighter-fitting, restyled version that costs ten times as much as you would pay in authentic hardware stores. And these 21st-century incarnations never see oil, grease or grime.
The classic US Oshkosh denim workwear jacket
The classic French farmworkers jacket for a few euros.
The 21st-century French farmworkers jacket inspired fashion item at £250.
Graphic designer, Chip Kidd seems to be channelling the 1950s British TV character Billy Bunter (below).
Graphic designer, Ken Garland with his signature colourful embroidered rimless cap.
Graphic designer, Vim Crowell in his futuristic outfit.
Massimo and Lella Vignelli created their own roomy outfits for themselves and staff.
Frank Lloyd Wright favoured a cape and a low-crowned hat.
Le Corbusier's glasses resurfaced in the 1980s to become an essential fashion statement for well know graphic designers of the period.
The minimalist John Pawson perfectly complimenting his work (below)
Back in 1987 when I was running my old company, Carroll, Dempsey & Thirkell, one of my young assistants ruined a brand new, and rather expensive, white shirt while using a Rotring ink pen. This was before everything was produced in the hygienic digital world and Cow Gum, paints, inks and scalpels were the norm, along with the occasional bloody accident while brandishing the latter. The ink-stained white shirt set me thinking that perhaps we should have some kind of protection.
This photo was taken by the late Terry O'Neill (top left) for Elle magazine. It shows the shortlisted studio 'work jackets' worn by a range of creatives, that's me top right with hair! I'd commissioned students of the St Martin's School of Art fashion department back in in 1988. The winner was Julie Philipson (bottom left) waring her winning jacket and the one adopted by CDT Design.
I set up a little competition with the fashion students at St Martin’s. My brief to them was to create a modern-day smock or jacket suitable for a design group. The image (above) was the result, and we all wore them for several years until one by one they disappeared, along with the Cow Gum, inks, scalpels and parallel motion boards. But my thinking was for entirely practical reasons, and, yes, I wanted the clothes to look good too, but they were led by function. But back to my view about designers’ dress codes. In ‘Objectified’, there was a distinct contrast between the various designers’ sartorial choices. It was interesting to see how their dress reflected their work.
A perfect example of this is designer Karim Rashid. As you can see from the picture above, it smacks of “I am a designer”, and the work to smacks of “I have been designed” and typical of Americans’ pushy hutzpah.
Contrast this with the Japanese designer Naoto Fukasawa, whose dress sense is very low key and
Naoto Fukasawa another low key dresser.
Fukasawa's rice bowl. Sublime simplicity.
directly relates to the simplicity of his design for Muji, along with the modesty of most Japanese people – unless you happen to be under 18, where anything goes. I feel a little guilty at not talking more about the work of the product designers in the documentary, but most of it was very familiar to me, but not so much the designers themselves, so I viewed it through a different lens and it became far more interesting to look beyond their work.
Anish Kappor and Ai Weiwei keep things neutral.
Back in the ’80s and ’90s, as a company, Carroll, Dempsey & Thirkell donated some of its profits to the arts: we sponsored the shows of Anish Kapoor Tate and a Cindy Sherman show at the Whitechapel. At the private viewings, we mixed with sponsors, artists, gallery owners, friends and curators, and you could divide these by their dress codes. At each of the private viewings, the curators were kitted out in Issey Miyake or Dolce & Gabbana. The artists were very unobtrusive. The gallery owners would be in soberly cut, well-tailored suits with a flash of colour in the sock department or a choice Georgina von Etzdorf tie or scarf loosely worn around their necks, just to show that they were a little edgier than their city broker friends. But things changed when Grayson Perry appeared on the scene.
Grayson Perry and an example of his ceramic work below.
Having been in the world of design since the early ’60s, I have seen and been through many fashion iterations. Looking back at photographs, most of these trends reflected the times, but, viewed now, they are highly embarrassing. I always find it amusing and a little sad when you see major, and not so major, rock stars and groups from the ’70s permanently stuck in a fashion time warp.
The Rolling Stones in a fashion time warp.
Elton John
Boy George
Adam Ant inspired the doyens of haute couture
The ever-changing David Bowie.
The Rolling Stones, with their spiky mullets and bandanas, along with their ageing frames squeezed into leather trousers and cowboy boots, resemble a geriatric coach party heading to a ’70s-themed event. Only David Bowie seemed to cleverly surf over that fashion trap by constantly evolving.
But fashion is just another industry driven by the big retailers, like Philip Green, who spews out affordable fashion items made in chicken-coup-style factories in the Far East to maximise profits, pay himself enormous sums and bank the rest in low-tax countries. And on the topic of the fashion industry, there can be no doubt that it is the place for the most excessive use of visual self-expression, especially in the lofty world of haute couture fashion. Surrounded by adoring customers and A-listers from all quarters, fashion designers presenting their new seasons of wares are celebrated with adulation and camera flashes.
Douglas Fairbanks seems to be the source of both the pop and fashion world look.
John 'Look at me' Galliano
Two that stand out for me are John Galliano, with his swashbuckling Douglas Fairbanks look singling him out as ‘the designer’ (just in case), and Karl Lagerfeld, with his stiff shirt collars like a neck brace, white makeup, sunglasses and Michael Jackson black leather gloves, along with a ponytail.
Black-clad Karl Lagerfeld who was convinced that he was 'the only one'.
And some of the women from the world of fashion Zandra Rhodes and Betty Jackson. The former wants to inhabit every colour in the rainbow and the latter sticks to black and white.
Betty Jackson stays classic.
Alexander McQueen left his creations to speak for him.
The likes of Galliano and Largerfield are in direct contrast to Alexander McQueen, who mostly favoured a T-shirt and let his work be the visual event. I have been around long enough to have seen fashions come around and go around several times over and looking ridiculous. These days I view extreme fashion shifts with gentle amusement.
Some more of my fashion observations can be found in the following links: