The Outsider at the Design Fair
A lowly mortal enters the realm of the design elite. (It's me.)
A few days ago, I headed down to NYC’s Financial District to attend Collectible, a design fair that describes itself as “experimental.” I really didn’t know what to expect because:
a) Despite being a “design editor,” I’ve actually only been to a couple design fairs. (It’s called editorial budgets, m’dears.)
and b) I really had very little context for Collectible other than what I was being served on Instagram, which told me that I NEEEEDED TO BE THERE to be conversant with the hip design kids.
When you go into these things, as a writer with no assignment, you’re automatically an outsider. These events are largely targeted at “the industry” — it’s designers; art collectors; rich people looking at things for their homes that are not homes but are museums; and other decor/furniture designers — and so if you’re just trying to low-key look at some furniture stuff with no objective, it’s just like, “How do I explain my presence here?” I can’t fill the criteria of an exhibitor’s ROI: I’m not here to buy something. Or to tell someone else to buy something.
And so, I just immediately felt out of place, which maybe just had to do with my lack of asymmetrical clothing or tiny designer purse. It was like everyone knew each other. As I walked through the booths, a volley of French conversations circled through my ears, half of which were exuberant: “Zzhhuzh je m’appelle voilà hahah tu vois le zoubizouz OUAISSS!!,” while the other half was more “everyone is angry”: “MAIS NON MARCEL!!! J’AI DIT oualallaa! Ghghghgh.”
In this scenario, you start to feel like everyone is more cultured than you. They possess a superiority of taste and knowledge and because you are a nobody, there is no joining a conversation.
This is the point at which I became utterly confused. Because in this context, it’s hard to parse the ridiculous from the “actually good” when you are in the presence of pieces that cost about a Honda Civic and everyone around you is wearing outfits I’d describe as “severe.”
Even I couldn’t discern my own purpose for being there — what was I going to take away from this? A trend roundup? I would need to be smart enough to notice patterns to inform all of you of what is DEFINITELY happening in design next. But I’m just not serious enough.
As I wandered around, I initially snapped a picture of everything, thinking each new exhibitor had to be presenting some groundbreaking idea — right?
But then I started to feel like I was looking at a bunch of (frankly) confusing furniture and decor. The tides finally turned when I rounded a corner and discovered a booth bursting with color, and I went into hard-smile mode. I bursted out, “THIS IS THE FIRST TIME I’VE SMILED SINCE I’VE BEEN HERE!”
Laughter spilled out of two Finnish fellows who were like, “Yeah we get that,” and then one walked me through his collection (it’s Henri Judin) which wasn’t explained through a million philosophical underpinnings, but rather: “I like to make joyful things. In the spirit of drag.” And that was all I needed to hear to understand that perhaps I needed one of these $2,000 chairs:
I perked up more when I wandered past a snack bar stocking mini bottles of Diet Coke: YESSS! Then I realized they weren’t free and I immediately felt as though my mouth had turned into a chalkboard eraser. But because I am too principled to pay for an overpriced Coke, I decided that this would just be my cross to bear.
Near the snack bar, I found a display of jewelry by a brand I can’t remember the name of. All you need to know is that everything they sell is scary. But they were offering free piercings, and I thought, “Hmm, maybe I’ll get my closed-up second hole re-pierced.” After inquiring however, I learned that it was a free piercing with a $100 purchase. Crud!
Several times I walked by a booth for a collab between Sabai and Julio Torres, which featured just a single item — a daybed done up in camel and green with a chrome base. It was empty every time and felt dark and sad.
After circulating around the floor a few times, I did start to notice some patterns and figure out which things I actually liked. The below isn’t a trend roundup of any kind. It’s just my most basic observations.
[But before we get to that I must quickly tell you that I returned the next day to attend a talk on design and new media. I braved torrential rain to get there on time and arrived with my skirt a demonstrably different color than what it had been when I left the house. I was also forced to wring out my wet socks at the design fair because I could find no paper towels. At this point I just didn’t care.]
Anyhow. Now onto what I gleaned from Collectible’s exhibitors, including the stuff I did very much like…
CAVEMEN FURNITURE
Saw a lot of stuff that felt very monolithic, Planet of the Apes-y, and generally Fred Flintstone-adjacent. These pieces could be very beautiful when separated from their surroundings and put into more eclectic contexts, IMO.
FURNITURE FOR PEOPLE WITH NO BODIES
I’ll refrain from naming these designers as obviously I’m poking fun here. But man. So much uncomfortable looking stuff.
AND NOW ON TO THE THINGS I REALLY LIKED
All of these items gave me fleeting moments of joy. Clockwise from top left: Fantastical light fixtures from Yuxuan Huang & Jesse Groom / Elyse Graham’s resin side table / silver floral vase by (once again) Jesse Groom as presented with The Object Boutique / wood bow chair by L.A. designer Sam Klemick.
I enjoyed everything presented by Llewellyn Chupin. Not because I’d place these items in my home, but because they felt so playful despite using such hard materials.
Clockwise from top left: Kawabi’s sculptural paper lanterns / cork table and bench by Studio AHEAD / Nine Stories’ “salvage float glass” lights / handmade shell lighting by Tennant / deco inspired glass pendant by Rosie Li Studio.
After the fair, I treated myself to a margarita at Swan Room where the couple next to me (from Silver Lake) charged their drinks to their room. I briefly considered pulling an Ashley Judd a la Double Jeopardy by ordering a bunch of things and charging it to the couple’s room, but I’ll save that for another design fair I guess.
I enjoyed reading this A LOT!
Imposter syndrome has never been more visually interesting! I so related to this piece. Except in my case, it was all these ecstatic people breathlessly using marketing buzzwords. (Never as fun as Flintstones furniture.) I love the "trends" you shared and the few gems you salvaged from the weirdness.