19 December 1999
packaging

I've volunteered my address one too many times. And while normally this results in pestering junk mail and beleaguering telemarketing calls, every once in a while it delivers me something interesting.

Last week it delivered my first illy catalogue, which filled me with awe and inspiration, even though I'm not the manic coffee drinker I once was. Wrapped in a square, waxy, acetate envelope, the catalogue's tight palette and stark, voided, dark spaces enticed me to look further. I stood at my kitchen counter turning the stiff, cool pages, engrossed in its imagery and artistic devices. There are miniature espresso cups stacked against the laws of gravity and sleek and silver coffee pots, standing close and tall like a cityscape.

Lately my I'm hyper-aware of packaging and design. Last weekend, I got the long-awaited grand tour of Bookstore Michael's art school portfolio. His attention to detail... the justification of every line and font and color formed a cohesive visual experience that I fell for hard and fast.

Design combines arbitrary chaos with every last speck of minutia. It's the art we overlook and take for granted and throw away. On Douglas Coupland's new site, he mentions this link between packaging and art:

"My thinking is that in the future people are going to be collecting things from today’s world that don’t seem obvious to us right now. So forget Franklin Mint collectibles; blocks of Styrofoam and plastic squeeze bottles will be getting the big bucks in 2049."

Back in my apartment at the close of 1999, the illy cups are mounted on a black block of wood, the unique jar garden in the kitchen window expands, and I no longer throw away hardcover book jackets. I'm developing a keen eye and savoring the simplicity all around me.

What's sparked your interest lately?

biggest kiss...

...kristen