Core77

Having a drafting table in your house is kind of like having a treadmill: You can't disguise what it is, and there's no way to make them blend in with say, traditional domestic décor. However, in the 1960s German drafting equipment company Nestler created this piece, which doesn't look like a drafting table at all: A clever arrangement of hinges reveals the internal drafting board, which comes complete with the articulated drafting arm.

In the 1960s, college students stumbled across an abandoned ruin in the wilds of Warsaw, Virginia, outside of Richmond. The crumbling stone structure had been abandoned following a hurricane in the 1930s, and weather had taken its toll. It presumably made for a great party spot for the co-eds. As it turns out, the house had historic significance and was older than America.

This year Volvo brought the EX30, an electric SUV, to the U.S. market. (In Europe the car has been available since 2023, but tariffs and red tape delayed the U.S. launch.) Starting around $38,000, it's meant to be an affordable EV and gateway vehicle to the brand. The car looks smart enough on the outside, but the interior is a damning indictment of cost-cutting. Multiple speakers have been eliminated in favor of a single soundbar, to reduce wiring, but that's the least of the troubles.

While the traditional form of a pizza cutter is this… …Japanese manufacturer Fireside has a different take, offering a much more compact form factor: It's no surprise this Easy Roller came from Japan, where storage space is limited. But the company also says the form is more ergonomic and makes it easier to cut. The stainless steel tool measures 95mm (3.7") wide and weighs just 100g (3.5 oz). It runs ¥1,650 (USD $11) in Japan, but with international shipping you're looking at closer to $18.

These Blank Note sketchbooks by MUCU, a Japanese stationery brand, almost look like some kind of military surplus. But in fact they're just as minimal a sketchbook as possible: Two pieces of recycled paperboard for the covers, a canvas strip for the spine, and 60 pages of recycled "comic paper" (what manga is printed on in Japan). They come in three sizes, and have the model numbers printed on the spine, presumably for manufacturing/inventory purposes.

Art collective MSCHF is at it again, this time with Lexus. For their Motomorphosis exhibit, which opens tomorrow at NYC's Armory Week art fair, they've stretched two real cars into unlikely forms. Motomorphosis presents sculptural transformations of two Lexus vehicles, altered into impossible shapes through a recurring MSCHF motif: the application of the vernacular of digital-native operations to physical objects.

Remember these ridiculous jeans created by Werther's Originals? They had 30 coin pockets up and down the legs, intended to provide stash space for the candy company's treats. Now Cory Johnson, a Missouri-based fashion artist who works with found materials, has gone a step further. His Infinite Pocket Jeans have been Frankensteined together from thrift shop jeans, yielding some 41 pockets. Constructing the pants out of the most substantial parts of jeans brings a trade-off.

In the 1930s Richard Neutra, the Austrian architect who'd made his home in California, designed an early example of flexible-use furniture. Neutra conceived of a table that could transform from dining height to coffee table height, using a simple mechanism in the legs: Neutra made no secret of his inspiration for the design: He had it prototyped in 1940, and in 1951 designed a steel-leg version for a client.

Just over a century ago, Illinois businessman John W. Marsh launched his Marsh Stencil Machine company. His firm produced stencil-cutting machines, inks and oilboards (the oil-treated paperboards stencils are made out of). Their Marsh Model H machine, which rolled out in 1940, is still in use and sold today. Inside are case-hardened steel dies and zinc alloy punches designed to maintain crisp edges over time.

You have to wonder what the pioneers of industrial design would make of this day and age. The original promise of ID was to harness the power of mass production to create useful objects for the masses. But now, in the second (or arguably third) century of ID as a field, we're awash in disposable junk, much of it plastic, none of it durable enough to be passed down to grandchildren. And there has been a reaction.