A Completely Brilliant Piece of Design

This wooden bird is much more clever than it first appears.

Every now and then I encounter a piece of design that’s so ingenious, so delightful, that I can’t stop marveling over it. The little wooden bird shown above is the latest example.

Until recently, the bird belonged to my friend E. She was planning to sell it in a moving sale that she had in June, but I spotted it in the “To sell” pile and told her I’d take it. (Oddly, I’d never noticed the bird in E’s home prior to that. Like me, she has a lot of stuff, so it’s easy to overlook things.)

Why do I love this bird so much? I’ve provided an explainer in this video:

Isn’t that great? I find myself endlessly charmed by it.

E said she bought the bird at the MoMA design store, so I googled “MoMA wooden bird” and soon learned that the bird is actually part of a larger bird family:

The three versions are officially called (from left) Large, Small, and Chubby. Personally, I like Chubby the best, but they’re all fun. Each is available in either light or dark oak. They were created in 1959 by the Danish industrial designer Kristian Vedel and are made today by the Danish firm ArchitectMade, which sells all three versions here.

This is exactly — exactly — the kind of classic midcentury design that my parents loved, so I’m a bit surprised we didn’t have one of these birds in the house when I was growing up. The next time I go see my mom, I’ll bring the bird for her to see — I’m pretty certain she’ll enjoy it.

When the bird isn’t visiting my mom, it has a place of honor on my living room mantel, where it’s the smallest item but still holds its own:

Every morning I adjust the head slightly, so it has a different expression each day.

As for the other items on my mantel, I’ll be writing about at least one of them soon — stay tuned.

BOMP Tee Reminder

In case you missed it last week, the BOMP saga has been immortalized in Inconspicuous Consumption’s first-ever T-shirt (complete with the IC logo on the inner collar). It’s available here.

Paul Lukas has been obsessing over the inconspicuous for most of his life, and has been writing about those obsessions for more than 30 years. You can contact him here.