Thursday, Apr. 15, 2004
How Retro Can You Go?
By Kate Novack and Nadia Mustafa
Most people don't spend a whole lot of time thinking about their relationship with their toaster. But KitchenAid does. When the company was testing its new line of retro-inspired appliances, researchers crisscrossed the country asking consumers to describe their kitchenware. "What we said was 'Think of this product as a person and you're meeting him for the first time at a cocktail party,'" says Charles Jones, vice president of global consumer design at Whirlpool, KitchenAid's parent company. "What we kept hearing was 'Solid, dependable, makes me smile, someone I can trust.'"
Meet the new face of design. It's friendly, whimsical, durable and, it turns out, looks much as it did in the 1950s. Just as twinsets and pencil skirts ruled the recent fall runways, the mid-century look is finding its way into every room of the house, from the campy opulence of '60s interior designer David Hicks to the high design of newly re-issued Dunbar furniture. Marshall Field's has introduced interior-design guru Thomas O'Brien's updated take on Fiestaware for the table. For the kitchen, there are bubble-gum pink stand mixers from KitchenAid and chubby refrigerators from Elmira Stove Works. In the driveway, there's even a reissued Mini Cooper in a retro-perfect shade of teal.
"Most people think this is just a trend," says Marshal Cohen of the NPD Group, a global marketing company. "It's not. It's really about a lifestyle change. When you see it start to reach the home, that's a longer-term commitment."
What is it about the postwar period that keeps pulling us back? Peace and prosperity may not have been the purview of that era alone--the '90s' bubble was good while it lasted--but the '50s hold a special place in America's collective imagination. At what other time in history did Hershey bars and nylon stockings--both in short supply during World War II--wield such transformative powers? The optimism was eventually shattered by the disillusionment of Vietnam and Watergate, but for a brief period America was the land of possibility.
"The things that are attractive are not particularly stylistic but have more to do with values," says Murray Moss, who owns Moss, a New York City design mecca. "It's a broader issue, that for lack of a better word we say the '50s [because] the closest we can relate to it are feelings that we haven't had since then." The mythology of the time looms so large that even the generations that didn't live through the era yearn for it today.
It's easy to point to Sept. 11 as the watershed moment when America turned into a nation of nesters and began eating chicken potpies at home while wearing pearls and sweater sets. But, says Franc,oise Serralta of Peclers Paris, an international trend-forecasting agency, the shift really started earlier, in anticipation of the new millennium: "Sept. 11 only speeded up a reaction to what was already happening." The ongoing terrorist threat, sluggish economy and war in Iraq have helped fuel the thirst for nostalgia, but there are other factors at work.
After the popularity of the more functional stainless-steel look of the '80s and high-tech thrust of the '90s, it's only natural that the pendulum would swing back toward products with the mark of the human hand. A similar return to warmer, more emotional design occurred in the 1950s in response to the cold minimalism that dominated the preceding decades. "It's the old caveman thing. We like reflections of ourselves," says Moss. "We can never get too far away from the recognition in these objects of human involvement." For example, KitchenAid's new Pro Line is designed to reinforce the notion that it's the cook, not the machine, that's making the difference in the kitchen. The displays on the espresso maker are analog, and the handles are robust and chunky. Still, it functions like high technology. This fusion of nostalgic design and up-to-the-minute functionality--often dubbed retro modernism--is "the strongest trend in all of the creative industries at the moment," says Serralta.
Retro designs are also a rejection of the 15-min. shelf life of most trends. Fashion is decidedly not an industry that likes to slow down. But even there, the '50s fascination has transcended the usual season-to-season dictates. Mid-century detailing first showed up in Marc Jacobs' spring 2003 collection, and it's still going strong, with Pringle of Scotland and Balenciaga both preparing to reissue '50s designs. "I think we're tired of being marketed to, told to buy stuff we don't need," says Rob Forbes, whose company, Design Within Reach, sells iconic modern furniture through its website and studios across the country. "There's a value underlying these designs which is consistent with how people want to live their lives. What are the things that have endurance and permanence? People want to believe the things they are buying can make a difference."
It's no surprise then that some of the best designs from the past are being dusted off and reissued for today's consumer. Maharam, a century-old textile manufacturer, recently introduced its Textiles of the 20th Century series, which includes fabrics by mid-century icons like Alexander Girard and Ray and Charles Eames. "The fact that these were designed 50 years ago and are still as attractive as ever allows people to feel like they're not investing in something that is going to look like 2004 three years from now," says company co-owner Michael Maharam. George Nelson's oversize Eye Clock became an instant best seller when it was reintroduced last fall at the Museum of Modern Art store. And Vitra worked closely with Jean Prouve's family to reproduce the French designer's complete collection of mid-century furniture, down to the trademark lacquer finish.
Traces of the past are also turning up in new creations. Thomas O'Brien has transformed his New York City-based interior design company Aero Studios into a veritable retro-modern empire: there are vintage-inspired bedding and bath linens for Marshall Field's, a furniture collection for Hickory and textiles for Lee Jofa, to name just a few. Designer Marc Newson, whose creation for the restaurant at Lever House is among the boldest statements of retro modernism, incorporated Bakelite into his new line of cookware for Tefal. Jonathan Adler's eponymous line of needlepoint pillows, sculptural vases and Hollywood Regency-style furnishings winks to figures like Hicks and Girard. "For me, the interest in mid-century design really reflects a desire to get away from the dourness of minimalism, toward a maximalist, joyful aesthetic," says Adler. "I like to think that my stuff has an element of familiarity as well as a newness and freshness to it."
It's easy--seductive even--to dismiss some of these creations as derivative. There's something almost dirty about the word retro, as if recalling the past were inherently lazy. But, says Paul Thompson, director of the Cooper-Hewitt, National Design Museum, "it's natural to look to antecedents and ancestors. They're acknowledging the quotations, not plagiarizing. Otherwise it's as boring as reading a 10th-grade essay pulled off the Internet."
Even a sophomoric reversion might be understandable at the moment, given that the past looks so much better than the future. But these backward glances aren't mere escapism. They help to ground us, to sort through the clutter that surrounds us--and they're there when we need to be reassured that technology can never replace human beings. "These reversions are essential to the evolutionary process of style and design," says Serralta. "They are the foundation, the building blocks on which to base the future. Without nostalgia, there is no closure and no way to move forward."