Thomas Ricker, writing for The Verge:
The wood on the stairs in my newly renovated house is starting to divot and wear under heavy use. At first — for the briefest of moments — I was annoyed as I imagined my daughter’s “princess heels” and my son’s football cleats plodding up the steps in violation of our strict no-shoes-in-the-house policy. Then I remembered Starck’s lesson. The subtle scarring I see is created by the process that transforms a house into a home; imperfections forged by my children, themselves transforming into adults. Those stairs, disfigured as they are, fulfill their purpose of supporting my family on their daily journey through this world. Now when I look at the stairs I see a beautiful story.
He also quotes from this 2011 essay on design by Remy Labesque, a defense of well-worn gadgets:
Aging with dignity is a criteria designers should recognize in their efforts. I’m thinking of a future when products are designed not for the brief moment when they are new, but for when they have been aged to perfection.
We’ve got a table in our house that my wife and I bought when we got married, our first major purchase together. It’s a fine piece of furniture and has served us as our kitchen table for many years.
The surface of the table is well worn, scarred by sharp edges. An imprint of a phillips screw from a carelessly placed box, a patina of paint and sparkly glitter, and countless gouges from children and cats, mar the table’s surface. But I would argue that those imperfections make the table, give it a distinct well-worn beauty, and in no way take away from the iconic look of the table design.
Take a look at the images at the top of Labesque’s Frog Design post, the one showing both a well-worn iPhone and a similarly worn Canon point-and-click camera. Which wears its patina of wear better? To me, no question, that iPhone, with all its scratches and imperfections, is still a thing of beauty.
