Light ed

How much thought goes into a light switch?  For most of us its a toggle switch, and its duty is to send electrons or not.  But what if it's designed in such a way that it articulates its function of providing light or ending it?  The switch above i found in a cheap hotel in Paris, and it does just that.  The design is deceptively simple, with a chamfered face that brilliantly catches light on its upper face while the lower face remains in shadow.  The switch itself teeters between the two faces, belonging to light or belonging to shadow depending on how its switched, as if awake or sleeping.  The plane of the switch that doesn't become coplanar with one face of the plate becomes an interruption of the opposite face, disturbing the harmony of its light by catching it and throwing it back into the room as you can see above.  The real beauty of the switch is less that it can be switched on and off than that it switches between light and dark.

Packages 1

Every now and then, you run into packaging that strikes you as beautiful.  i remember thinking that Parkay (and maybe others used the same packaging) had a beautiful package concept, which had to do not with the graphics, but the package itself.  It opened in such a way as to foretell the delivery and shape of the item inside, which in this case was a stick of not butter.  i haven't seen this package in years, so i guess its been poofed.  The old style match boxes had a similar design, with a box within a box, one sliding with respect to the other, so as to embody a foretelling of the lighting of the match on the side of the exterior box, which i think is a beautifully simple, though most likely unnoticed, way of packaging matches.

Another favorite package is the Wiffle packaging for both ball and bat.

The problem, i imagine, wasn't an easy one to solve.  How to package a small round object with a thin object, 32 inches long?  The solution was brilliant.  A simple cardboard construction is placed at the end of the bat that is held in place by the friction created through the fitting of its (slightly smaller) hexagonal shape over the cylindrical form of the bat.

Hexagon to circle

This shape is then ingeniously cut along the folds of the hexagon to allow it to open and accommodate the larger "circle" of the ball, after which the cardboard returns to its original form of a hexagon to create closure.  The two differing diameters of bat and ball are reconciled through the manipulation of this single hexagon.  But thats not the end of it.  Even more excitement!  The cardboard, after returning to its hexagonal form, is now perforated on half the creases, with the intent that it be opened here in order to get the ball out.  After doing so, these "freed" ribs, through the nature of their geometry, can be bend down upon themselves so as to form a nest for the ball to sit in, against the back ribs which have remained upright.

Package, broken but showing closure of ball

Nest

At this point, a single person can put the ball in the nest, toss the ball into the air, and hit it with the bat.  In this brilliant packaging, the ball is reconciled with the bat, both prior to purchase and after, and from a formal standpoint, manifests that line, as bat, is but a series of many points (ball).  Nothing but clarity.  Now go out and play.

Shampoo gratings

What do things feel like?  This probably seems like a stupid question, but i've found that the way things feel has a lot to do with how pleasant your interaction with that thing is.  i remember having to rent a Ford Mustang a couple of years ago, and thinking wow i rented a classic American sports car to go to my stupid job meeting.  One of the first things you do when you get into your rental car is adjust the seat, especially if you're a tall lanky dude, and so that was really my first interaction with the car.  i felt under the seat, and immediately my hand came onto some nasty, cheap, sharp piece of plastic that i was supposed to adjust the seat with.  It was a piece of plastic i never saw, as it was under the seat, but it formed my initial impression of the car, and since the rest of the car failed to overcome it, the result is that i would never buy a Ford Mustang, all because of a piece of plastic hidden under the seat.  Do you think Ford cares about this?


So, about shampoo, i bitch the following: i buy Head and Shoulders shampoo, if for no other reason than its cheap and it seems to work.  The design of the bottle is fine, nothing special, trying to distinguish itself on the shelf with raw geometry, but the experience of using the bottle makes you wish you had chosen a fistful of beetles.  The top is made of hard cheap plastic, and when you open the lid to reveal the (invisible) spout, which is nothing but a hole in the top of the bottle, it makes this thin, cheap, cracking sound that's like a tiny spine snapping, just to let you know the designers didn't think about this experience at all.  The lid is also hard to open, and you have to fight with the nasty thing to pull it up, and while doing so it chews on your fingers like an old dachshund, or maybe the seat adjustment on a Mustang.  i hate opening the bottle.


Its easy for me to imagine the designers sitting around, perhaps having an occasional meeting to discuss how beautiful their new bottle for Proctor and Gamble is, while ignoring the act of using the stupid thing.  In the end, its a bad experience.  Sort of like having dandruff.  Which is gone, by the way.