When I first saw this picture of Louis Vuitton's flagship store in Manhattan I thought it was AI. That is where we are right now. When something looks wild, I just automatically assume it's fake. But alas, it's not fake. Louis Vuitton is renovating their flagship store at the corner of 57th Street and 5th Avenue and so, naturally, they decided to completely cover it with luggage facade wraps.
These wraps make the entire building look like six grey trunks stacked on top of each other and are a nod to a 19th century luggage design from the company. They even used real metal details throughout. Apparently the heaviest luggage handle weighs something like 5,000 pounds.
This is wild and remarkable in so many ways. The scale of it is remarkable. This is a 15 storey building concealed entirely by luggage trunks. It also speaks to the scale and dominance of New York as a city. Not every city can absorb a pile of giant luggage trunks and not bat an eye. But in New York, it's just another noteworthy thing within its relentless urban grid.
I also can't help but think of the work of architects Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown. In 1972, they published a book called Learning from Las Vegas. And in it, they defined two types of contrasting buildings: decorated sheds and ducks. Decorated sheds are, as the name suggests, nondescript buildings. Think big box stores. These buildings get their specificity from signage and other ornament because, without this, they'd just be nondescript sheds.
Duck buildings are, on the other hand, buildings that take on a symbolic form. In other words, their shape and construction tell you what they're all about. The term duck comes from an actual building that looks like a duck, namely The Big Duck on Long Island. This is a building that was built in the 1930s to help promote the owner's duck farming business and is now on the US National Register of Historic Places.
The Big Duck is and was an actual building, whereas Louis Vuitton's trunks are just temporary construction wrap. So they're not exactly the same thing. Still, the similarities are there. Both were erected to promote their respectiveness businesses. And both tell you, through their form, what's meant to happen inside. So in this sense, Louis Vuitton has just created its own Big Duck.
Photo by Brad Dickson via Dezeen
Maison Kitsuné is a French-Japanese lifestyle brand that was founded in 2002 as both a record label and a fashion house. Apparently, the founders -- Gildas Loaëc and Masaya Kuroki -- started out by DJ'ing in order to promote their brand and clothes.
In 2005, they released a full ready-to-wear collection and, according to Wikipedia, fashion has come to represent about 90% of the company's revenue (2020 figure).
In 2013, Kitsuné opened their first coffee shop in Tokyo. And since then, they have expanded around the world, opening cafes in Paris, Vancouver, Shanghai, and many other cities. As of today, I think they have 35 around the world.
Their latest venture is something a bit new though. It's called Desa Kitsuné, it's located in Canggu, Bali, and it's their first ever clothing shop/restaurant/club. It also comes with a pool and the idea is that you can do lots of different things here: shop, lounge during the day, and/or party at night.
I always find it interesting when different ideas and approaches are combined. And that's what Kitsuné continues to do. They also plan to do more of it. According to Monocle, the company wants to reach 100 cafes/restaurants around the world in the next 5 years.
So keep an eye out for more foxes in your city.
The late fashion designer, Virgil Abloh, had a design rule for himself called the "3% approach." Above is a slide from a presentation that he gave at Harvard back in 2013 where he listed it as item 3 of his "personal design language." The idea behind this 3% rule is simple: you really only need to change something by 3% in order to create something new.
Case in point:
When I first saw this picture of Louis Vuitton's flagship store in Manhattan I thought it was AI. That is where we are right now. When something looks wild, I just automatically assume it's fake. But alas, it's not fake. Louis Vuitton is renovating their flagship store at the corner of 57th Street and 5th Avenue and so, naturally, they decided to completely cover it with luggage facade wraps.
These wraps make the entire building look like six grey trunks stacked on top of each other and are a nod to a 19th century luggage design from the company. They even used real metal details throughout. Apparently the heaviest luggage handle weighs something like 5,000 pounds.
This is wild and remarkable in so many ways. The scale of it is remarkable. This is a 15 storey building concealed entirely by luggage trunks. It also speaks to the scale and dominance of New York as a city. Not every city can absorb a pile of giant luggage trunks and not bat an eye. But in New York, it's just another noteworthy thing within its relentless urban grid.
I also can't help but think of the work of architects Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown. In 1972, they published a book called Learning from Las Vegas. And in it, they defined two types of contrasting buildings: decorated sheds and ducks. Decorated sheds are, as the name suggests, nondescript buildings. Think big box stores. These buildings get their specificity from signage and other ornament because, without this, they'd just be nondescript sheds.
Duck buildings are, on the other hand, buildings that take on a symbolic form. In other words, their shape and construction tell you what they're all about. The term duck comes from an actual building that looks like a duck, namely The Big Duck on Long Island. This is a building that was built in the 1930s to help promote the owner's duck farming business and is now on the US National Register of Historic Places.
The Big Duck is and was an actual building, whereas Louis Vuitton's trunks are just temporary construction wrap. So they're not exactly the same thing. Still, the similarities are there. Both were erected to promote their respectiveness businesses. And both tell you, through their form, what's meant to happen inside. So in this sense, Louis Vuitton has just created its own Big Duck.
Photo by Brad Dickson via Dezeen
Maison Kitsuné is a French-Japanese lifestyle brand that was founded in 2002 as both a record label and a fashion house. Apparently, the founders -- Gildas Loaëc and Masaya Kuroki -- started out by DJ'ing in order to promote their brand and clothes.
In 2005, they released a full ready-to-wear collection and, according to Wikipedia, fashion has come to represent about 90% of the company's revenue (2020 figure).
In 2013, Kitsuné opened their first coffee shop in Tokyo. And since then, they have expanded around the world, opening cafes in Paris, Vancouver, Shanghai, and many other cities. As of today, I think they have 35 around the world.
Their latest venture is something a bit new though. It's called Desa Kitsuné, it's located in Canggu, Bali, and it's their first ever clothing shop/restaurant/club. It also comes with a pool and the idea is that you can do lots of different things here: shop, lounge during the day, and/or party at night.
I always find it interesting when different ideas and approaches are combined. And that's what Kitsuné continues to do. They also plan to do more of it. According to Monocle, the company wants to reach 100 cafes/restaurants around the world in the next 5 years.
So keep an eye out for more foxes in your city.
The late fashion designer, Virgil Abloh, had a design rule for himself called the "3% approach." Above is a slide from a presentation that he gave at Harvard back in 2013 where he listed it as item 3 of his "personal design language." The idea behind this 3% rule is simple: you really only need to change something by 3% in order to create something new.
Case in point:
Given this, it should come as no surprise that Abloh had cited artist Marcel Duchamp as being a source of inspiration. (We've spoken about this before.) Duchamp is most famous for his "readymade" sculptures where he took existing objects -- like urinals -- and transformed them into art by signing them and curating them appropriately. This was obviously controversial, but it made Duchamp one of the most important artists of the 20th century.
Now, 3% seems like an oddly precise number. I don't know how, for instance, you quantify the amount of change on the above shoe. Is it surface area? In any event, that's beside the point. What's most fascinating for me about this approach is that it suggests that small changes are enough to, not just create novelty, but actually establish authorship. Meaning, the shoe on the right is no longer a Converse shoe. It is now an "OFF-WHITE" shoe. They authored it.
Like the work of Duchamp, this was and is controversial. Lots of companies have sued Off-White for trademark infringement. We know, for example, where the above black stripes came from and we know that Off-White's multi-directional arrow logo is borrowed from Glasgow Airport's logo c.1960. But that's clearly the point of readymade reworks. And it's clearly enough for people to want to pay a lot more for the shoe on the right.
Fascinating.
Do you think that this 3% approach applies (or could apply) to other things outside of fashion, like architecture and buildings? I think so.
Given this, it should come as no surprise that Abloh had cited artist Marcel Duchamp as being a source of inspiration. (We've spoken about this before.) Duchamp is most famous for his "readymade" sculptures where he took existing objects -- like urinals -- and transformed them into art by signing them and curating them appropriately. This was obviously controversial, but it made Duchamp one of the most important artists of the 20th century.
Now, 3% seems like an oddly precise number. I don't know how, for instance, you quantify the amount of change on the above shoe. Is it surface area? In any event, that's beside the point. What's most fascinating for me about this approach is that it suggests that small changes are enough to, not just create novelty, but actually establish authorship. Meaning, the shoe on the right is no longer a Converse shoe. It is now an "OFF-WHITE" shoe. They authored it.
Like the work of Duchamp, this was and is controversial. Lots of companies have sued Off-White for trademark infringement. We know, for example, where the above black stripes came from and we know that Off-White's multi-directional arrow logo is borrowed from Glasgow Airport's logo c.1960. But that's clearly the point of readymade reworks. And it's clearly enough for people to want to pay a lot more for the shoe on the right.
Fascinating.
Do you think that this 3% approach applies (or could apply) to other things outside of fashion, like architecture and buildings? I think so.
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