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The Editorial: Mr. Stevens’ Salone
For the occasion of this year’s Salone del Mobile, The Blogazine will be bringing you behind-the-scenes and up close and personal looks at happenings around Milan. From today until Monday, we’re diving into design and we hope to see you both here and out on the streets! Happy Salone!
It was many, many moons ago that industrial designer Brooks Stevens popularized the seductive idea of planned obsolescence. The formula was straightforward and seductive enough: design objects would come with an abbreviated lifespan built-in that would pay dividends both for producers and consumers. A constant need for new would ensure a steady stream of demand, and by keeping the populace steadily supplied with the latest goodies their quality of life would ostensibly rise. The bold postwar logic paid off handsomely for decades.
And while our unbridled consumer society is still very much entrenched in this vicious cycle, we have at the very least begun en masse to question the deeply unsustainable system on which our throwaway culture is based. Demand for durable goods continues to rise in tandem with a vibrant DIY culture. And Brooks Steven’s successors, the designers of today, must consider any product’s birth to death cycle as a central matter in its conception.
Except, it seems, at our hometown’s signature event, Salone Del Mobile. Behind the flashy kitchens, clever new chairs and utopian marketing speak lies a post-postmodern version of planned obsolescence that is perhaps even more toxic than its forbear. A kissing cousin to fashion’s dramatically accelerated throwaway cycle, design objects at Salone are sold both on the basis of their implied quality and innovativeness, as well as on pure considerations of cool. Since it’s more than a bit difficult to actually make a chair obsolete, the impetus is to put it out of fashion. Translucent plastic is in! Now wood! Metal! Now formica! Curves! No, angles! Neutrals! Come on, neons!



All of which is well enough in isolation: just as runway fashion influences the wider ecosystem of clothes, Salone’s whimsy and taste making serves as an important reference point for a constantly richer world of designed objects, and its influence inevitably trickles down through all levels of culture. Nevertheless, its most unfortunate byproduct happens to be that, as with fast fashion, concerns of sustainability almost always take a backseat to a gotta-have-it mentality amped up by powerful marketing and masterful branding.
As an added downside, the fast fast fashion ethos on display in Milan’s design seems also to have drowned out the radical innovation the fair was once known for. A sense of “Salone is nothing like it used to be” is nearly universal among those who were lucky enough to attend the fair in the 1980s and 1990s. And the very sad truth is that design’s vanguard is no longer in Milan: the hyper-imaginative works of the likes of the Memphis designers have given way to pricey “design” trinkets designed by celebrity designers. The only real innovations on display have recently come from optimistic students and other young designers and are relegated to Lambrate and other cubbyholes around the city. But the real problem solving, visionary and radical design moved on a long time ago.

So, hit the fair this year with a critical eye. Listen to the young designers. Listen to the very old designers. If we look beyond the trends to to the good design beneath, if we keep asking the right questions, we might just bring Milan back.
Tag Christof, Images courtesy Vitra