Millman - Look both ways: illustrated essays on the intersection of life and design

CINCINNATI, OHIO
WWW.HOWDESIGN.COM

To Sandra Kiersky, for helping
me understand my past

To Edwin Rivera, for helping
me understand my future

I am and will always be deeply sentimental.I still own many of the books from my childhood, the first sportsmedal I won in fourth grade (for a three-leggedrace), an oldBand-Aid tin, and the business card on which anold boyfriend scribbled his phone number whenwe first met. | That same man often accused me of an excessivedegree of hero worship. I attributed this traitto my sentimentality, which gives me an irrepressible desireto collect and admire images, artifacts andmemorabilia from the defining moments in my life; to gathermementos of ideas and experiences that provokeand move me; and to assemble around me things I want close byas amulets of inspiration.My paramour wasat first perplexed but then put off by my curious fascinationwith popular culture and its hierarchies of fameand power. | I have been analyzing this oft-criticized, seamyworship of mine though the years, seeking to understandits origin in my psyche. I remember anxiously awaiting myfavorite Friday night television shows as myinfatuations flitted fromDavidCassidy in ThePartridgeFamily toLeeMajors inTheSixMillionDollarMan.Digging deeper into my emotional history, I rememberkissing the television whenMr.Rogers cameon. I remember being obsessed withMarciaBrady,OliviaNewton-John,NewYorkRangersHall ofFamerEddieGiacomin, and theNHLmascotPeterPuck. | But I didntknow and couldnt seem to discover why I neededand constructed this worship.What did I admire most?Whatwas I trying to gain?While I recognized whatthese performers, artists and entertainers might stand forormight bring to me through my experience ofthemI realized that it was what I was bringing to the idea ofthem that was important to comprehend. Irealized that I was bestowing all sorts of magical and unrealistic fantasies and expectations on these figures.I am still not sure whyit seems that as a culture we areheld captive by the comparisons we make between ourselves and others; many of the people we admire ordespise, similar to the brands we collect or cringeat, not only signify our beliefs but have come to define them. | Still not satisfied with the results of myinternal investigation, I put the whole exercise on hold, contentwith the knowledge that this silly, sentimentaladulationthis objectification of fantasy and perfectionthat brought me to believe an object couldbestow happiness alwayswas neither realistic nor honorable;the origin of this cult of personality continued to seem out of reach. | Until last winter.Miserably saddledwith a cold that knocked me out, I decided, as Iplanned my exit strategy from the world, to go to the marketand purchase the ingredients for my grandmothers chicken soup. I would cook up a big pot, and I couldlive on it for days, if need be. I stumbled into mylocal Gristedes and thoughtlessly tossed all the necessary soupaccoutrementscrisp, leafy parsley, bumpyturnips, pearl barleyinto my cart. Then I had what seemed tobe an epiphany (please note: I was running afever)I would treat myself to a bubble bath! | Sniffling andout of breath, I bounded over to the personalproducts aisle. And then in one powerful, provocative (andnearly painful)Proustian moment, it all cameback to me.My first love.My earliest taste of sentimentalobjectification.My original encounter withhero worship.My initial freefall into the phenomenal world ofimagination and fantasy. I saw him again asI saw him for the first timethe one who started it all: