One of our favorite things about working in DUMBO is views like this. Taken this morning on the roof by our creative director, Taylor Pemberton.
Like shedding a coat,
like fog: all worries lift. What
remains? Clarity.
Getting to see something beautiful right outside our window inspires us to work harder, better, stronger. All good things.
One recent morning on my way to work, my train felt different somehow. Nestled here and there within the usual scrum of commuters were excited faces in caps and gowns, bursts of bright satin on an otherwise typical morning. Their numbers grew with each stop, hues of crimson, marigold and royal purple packing the train. I noticed the baby blue of my alma mater and remembered my own graduation: huddled under an umbrella with my parents, listening to Tony Kushner tell me how it is, how it would be, and what I could and should do about it.
The only real certainty in the life of a recent graduate is a life in flux. The next few months are a series of brand new beginnings: new job, new city, a new place to live. And while it may not be the best time to be graduating, it’s still an accomplishment worth celebrating. Doesn’t every new beginning deserve a little send-off? With sixteen different gift options, a Wantful gift book is particularly well-suited to the vagaries of post-graduate life. You choose the items that speak to various possibilities, they choose the one that fits their new path best.
Transitions are hard, but one way to make it easier is to include a few upgraded versions of college staples. We love these glass water bottles from bkr so much that everyone in our NYC office recently ordered them. They’re an elegant, long-lasting, and clean-tasting update to school-logo emblazoned plastic. Or how about some art for their bare walls? This limited edition archival print of vintage Atari games is not only a worthy replacement for dormitory posters but a nostalgic reminder of a beloved pastime. No thumbtacks necessary.
Speaking of bare walls, offer a few housewarming options. I love these air plant pods, which offer high impact style for low maintenance care. Just a little spritz of water and you’re done. A new set of towels might also be appealing, considering their last set probably did the rounds at a communal bathroom of some kind. These are made in Kerala, India, as part of an initiative to save the traditional handloom industry. Even if they’ve had enough of books for now, The Picture of Dorian Gray belongs on a higher-ed shelf. This one cleverly masks an iPhone/iPod charger and you can choose from an assortment of syllabus-worthy tomes.
New jobs call for new supplies, and your employed graduate might enjoy this elegant and sustainable iPad case. Die cut from recycled wool felt, it doubles as a viewing stand. For those with a low-tech approach to their work, this leather field sketchbook is great for taking notes on the run. There’s no reason not to include both so they can decide the best fit for their new job.
Finally, all work and no play make for a dull post-graduate life, so include a few options that are all fun, like this home brew kit. It comes in six different flavors and includes everything they need to make their own Hefeweizens or IPAs. Traveling is also a common option after graduating, and if they haven’t spent a semester abroad already, they’ll have need for a few basics. Include a passport case, a new messenger bag, a leather camera strap—because who knows all the places they’ll go? Only they do, so let them decide. They’ve earned it.
In her famous “Etiquette,” Emily Post writes, “Who was it that said—in the Victorian era probably, and a man of course—‘The only mechanical tool ever needed by a woman is a hairpin?’ He might’ve added that with a hair-pin and a visiting card, she is ready to meet most emergencies.”
Frankly, I don’t even need a hairpin anymore. Visiting cards, name cards, calling cards—all are precursors to the modern day business card. For us, it’s an indispensable professional tool as well as a form of expression. We wanted the cards to evoke the experience of a Wantful gift book, so we made sure the two matched exactly.
We’re pleased to say we get asked about them all the time, so from our print-geek hearts to yours, here’s how they were made. The fronts of our cards have a smooth white quality with cool gray details. The back has a black suede texture, just like our gift books, with a subtle blind deboss. Each side is letter pressed separately on double white and black card stock, then sandwiched together to complete the construction. We worked with our friends at Oscar Printing in San Francisco to get them just right and we couldn’t be happier.
Somewhere along the way to visit Jim Schatz, we took a wrong turn. A few wrong turns, actually. What was supposed to be a 3-hour drive turned into a 5-hour trek, but as the noise of urban life faded behind us, we gave in to it. Why stress? Before us stretched the verdant glory of upstate New York, the sun was shining for the first time in days and it was warm enough to drive with the windows down. By the time we finally arrived, we were unplugged from the city and ready to be amazed.
For Jim, his work process begins with “clay and a sense of wonder.” His studio, run out of an old clapboard house, seems to represent the “clay” portion. Filled with kilns, molds, sketches, and paint, it has everything he needs to create his bird feeders and run J Schatz, the ceramics company he founded in 2004. His home, just a few minutes away, undoubtedly fulfills the “wonder” portion of his process.
“That’s a little Black-capped chickadee, they say hi to me in the mornings!” Jim’s house is built into the side of a sloping hill, overlooking a creek, and surrounded by trees. He tests all of his products here, so ceramic feeders of various shapes and colors hang in the branches around us. He calls out the names of the birds as they land on his feeders. White breasted nuthatch. American goldfinch. The rose-breasted grosbeak. He shows us his garden, where he and his partner have installed stone steps leading to benches, so they can enjoy various vantage points. “You see that giant hole in the tree? That’s from a hairy woodpecker who comes around here.”
This is what excites us about Jim and his stoneware. It’s not just because they are handcrafted one by one, or just that they are playfully and elegantly designed. He gets meaningful results in his work because it involves him and his life completely. Walking around his little patch of property, we started to feel that wonder that is so central to his work: the feeling of surprise, admiration and awe, aroused by something incredible.
Now that we’re back in the city, we wanted to share a little sense of that wonder, of what it was like to unplug and be inspired by what inspires Jim and his work. We hope you see what we mean. (Hint: better experienced with headphones.)
Each September my grandmother wrangled our entire unwieldy extended family into our ‘88 Dodge Ram and headed south for Colorado Springs. Our yearly destination? Chili Pepper Junction.
While the drive there was barely two hours, for me it was endless. All I wanted was to spend the afternoon in the sun, snapping plump chili peppers off their stalks and stuffing them into burlap sacks. I loved the crackling noise their stems made, and their earthy, spicy smell.
My grandmother worked efficiently, clipping one, two, three, four peppers in quick succession, first with her right hand then with her left. Eight, sixteen, thirty two, a bushel. She’d call over - “Won’t these be good in that soup you like?” I’d look at the pepper in my hand. “Hey little buddy,” I’d say. “Thanks for being delicious.”
For days after these outings I’d watch intently as my grandmother expertly cleaned, halved, dried and crushed the peppers, preparing a year’s supply of chili flakes. My family is Korean, so this was no average family’s supply. Throughout the year I’d watch her tossing handfuls of bright red powder into our soups and stews, and generously packing it between Napa cabbage leaves for kimchi. When I started cooking myself I tried to mimic that flick of the wrist: sure, swift and recipe-less.
To this day, my grandmother still sends me double-freezer-bagged portions of hand-ground, hand-picked chili flakes to use in my own cooking. She can barely speak English, but she knows how to maximize a flat-rate shipping box. She loves her cell phone but is unimpressed by the Internet, and “finding a recipe online” strikes her as ridiculous.
She has no interest in babies that aren’t mine, and since I don’t have any babies, she has no interest in babies. This from the mother hen who raised four children and nine grandchildren in a foreign country, learning to curse in English along the way. She loves discovering new cuisines and flavors, and is always the first to compliment my cooking, even when my first attempt at spaghetti bolognese left the other members of my family somewhere between unimpressed and appalled.
So happy Mother’s Day, grandma. Your food is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given, and I think of you every time I cook, which is daily. You’ll never read this because it’s on the Internet you think won’t last, but I’ll be sending you some delicious little buddies of your own this week.
No source of inspiration is off limits for David Seth and Kavita Moltz, the multi-faceted fragrance duo behind D.S. & Durga. Native American plant rituals, P.G. Wodehouse, the mandirs of India…almost anything can be a starting point for their rich and complex scents.
My Indian Childhood is inspired by “memories of India through the eyes of a young expat,” with notes of patchouli, tobacco and tropical flowers, while Poppy Rouge evokes Mississippi John Hurt’s “Richland Woman Blues,” in which “a loose married woman prepares for a night on the town in her rosy red garters, bright poppy rouge and turkey red bloomer[s].”
D.S. & Durga began experimenting with oils, resins and tinctures in 2007 while making aftershaves for friends, and moved on to perfumes and colognes shortly thereafter. Their process usually begins with an idea, followed by “really nerding out” on research.
Experimentation plays a huge part as well. Their fragrances can contain up to eighty different elements, a process David likens to sculpting. Once you have a foundation, “you are shaving off a little here and there, then adding here and there to round out and blend.”
To this day, they craft, bottle, box and label everything themselves, a rare feat in the fine fragrance world. While their work practice harkens back to a pre-industrial era, their fragrances are nonetheless “appropriate for modern ladies and gentlemen of discerning taste.”
Available now on Wantful.
Why should drinking water come at a cost to the environment? For bkr owners Tal Soltz and Kate Cutler, the answer was simple: it shouldn’t. Friends since law school, they launched bkr a year ago after searching in vain for the perfect water bottle, something environmentally conscious that didn’t taste metallic or leach chemicals into your drink. When their search came up empty, they decided to make their own.
More than just a statement against a disposable world, they created bkr with “a recognition that good design does not need to be absent from green products.” Their bkrs are made of glass (recyclable) and come in vibrant colors like Julep, Candy and Rocket. Plus, a one-inch opening and an easy twist cap make for drinking that never feels awkward.
But of course, beauty is more than bkr-deep. Both Soltz and Cutler passionately believe that beauty can inspire change, so a portion of all proceeds go to the Obakki Foundation, which uses the arts to raise money and bring education to Africa. To date, they’ve drilled over 100 clean water wells in Sudan. They also contribute to the Canary Foundation, which is dedicated to the funding, discovery and development of tests for early cancer detection. This kind of big picture thinking is essential to the brand’s vision, so naturally, water bottles are just the beginning. As Cutler puts it, they’d like to bring “iconic modern design to all things people use to consume.”
Available now @Wantful.
A deep respect for the passage of time and the influence of history is embedded in owner/designer Noah Guy’s work for Joshu+Vela. Every element of their totes, backpacks and wallets is created by hand, from the custom-molded brass fixtures to the hand-cut leather straps, because “that’s how brands used to do it, they made the things they sold.”
A graphic designer who spent years working with denim at Levi’s, Guy brought an appreciation for quality and craftsmanship to his own line which launched in its current iteration a little over two years ago.
He says he’s inspired by vintage items that were made for a specific purpose, like old work bags for electricians or military workwear. “I find things I like from the past and update them, streamline them,” he says. The challenge for him is not to reinvent but to make it relevant, good, and worth being produced.
To that end, taking a design from concept to final product can often take months. He’s been hard at work on a new backpack style, and once he has a physical sample, he will test it thoroughly, making small adjustments along the way. His workspace, he admits, feels more like a setup from the 1930s or 40s - he uses no robotic machinery, unusual for leather, and works with a small in-house team. But working this way allows for his designs to lead the manufacturing, rather than the other way around. “If I want to change a strap or have a sudden idea, I can make the changes pretty quickly and see how it feels.”
The time and effort put into his bags quite literally shows. The vegetal tanned leather he uses is a creamy tan that gradually darkens and deepens in color, sometimes even approaching a rich chocolate. “It’s a look you can’t buy, you can only earn it with use, love and time.”
Available now through @Wantful.
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