The Tex Lock is a cool, textile-heavy variation on flexible bike locks, but it weaves some big promises. After two years of development, their recent crowdfunding cycle is over and super successful, but I'm still waffling. The core of this lock design (ho ho) is a melding of woven construction and cut resistant materials that its creators, Katja Käseberg, Alexandra Baum and Suse Brand, claim are resilient enough to keep you safe while shaving weight.

The super flexible "rope" is knit from multiple layers of woven materials, each designed for different defense purposes. Drawing on unlisted materials from the "automotive and aerospace" industries, it ostensibly resists torching, sawing and bolt cutters. The videos, as per usual, show the flexible lock stolidly resisting the savaging of a pair of cutters and staying strong in the face of adversity. Without having one in hand, or getting the full (understandably under wraps) designs, it's difficult to really commit to the dream.

I'll fully admit to putting my snob foot forward as soon as the video featured infomercial type "there's got to be a better way" scenarios and unsafe locking methods using their own product. And boasting about 10 collective years in product design with zero mentioned bike industry experience also isn't a great way to prove chops.

The design does hone in on a couple of the biggest complaints in bike security, which are weight and bulkiness. It certainly does look like it'd do less damage while clanking around on a frame, and the two styles of loop end make a wide variety of uses possible. Meanwhile, the internal core is mysterious and under-explained, while the lock used to secure the cable is still a potential weak link. Woven casings aren't new, but much like other innovative flexible locks (most notably the LiteLock and OttoLock), the locking mechanism and materials themselves still raise questions.

If the testing video is even half earnest, I'd feel less iffy about this than most cable locks, and if it gets people who won't use nicer locks to upgrade for its softness and flexibility… maybe that's a win regardless? My jury of one is out.

Does it pass your smell test? Would you use it?

It's no secret cannabis consumption is becoming more and more mainstream. Over here in the US, we're seeing laws changing and joints freely blazing. In response to this transition, designers have been able to express their curiosity around the emerging—and quite profitable—market. From designing packaging for edibles to crazy dispensary interiors, there seems to be an overall excitement around creating an updated image of marijuana that's widely accepted, yet individual enough to reflect the substance's longstanding multiple identities, including rebellious, medical and meditative. This is no easy task, considering everyone smokes different ways for different reasons.

PAX Labs is one company aiming to erase the stigma around smoking through their sleek form design and packaging. The latest vape in their collection, the PAX 3, is able to handle both loose leaf and concentrate, expanding on the PAX 2's strictly loose leaf capability. The vape's many functions are all wrapped up in one small device with minimal attachments. Here's a run-down of how it looks and works, from start to smoke:

Packaging

Right off the bat, the PAX 3's packaging design lets you know what you're in for from a design standpoint. The minimalist, Apple-like packaging design sets everything up neatly—you almost don't want to touch the box's contents, similar to when you get a new Macbook. I usually find that the more minimal an object is, the more overwhelming it is to figure out due to hidden/toned down buttons, knobs, etc. Luckily, this was not the case with the PAX 3, although I did scratch my head for a few minutes before completely unboxing the tiniest parts.

Form

The vape itself is shiny but discreet enough to carry in public, however it's a bit too chunky to fit comfortably in your pocket like earlier Pax models (especially not in women's skinny jeans, but hey, nothing does anyways).

In terms of accessories, the pickings are blissfully slim. There's the actual vape, the charging bed and cord, a silicon mouthpiece, two base attachments for loose leaf (one is deeper for when you want to smoke less substance), one base attachment for concentrates, a multi-tool packing device on a keychain (convenient), a couple extra filters, a replacement band for the concentrate attachment and a maintenance kit for cleaning. That's it.

Magnetic closure at base with loose leaf attachment.

Along with its discreet qualities, my favorite part about the PAX 3's design is its magnetic base attachments. The magnets are weak enough to easily snap off but strong enough so you don't need to worry about the bottom falling off while in use. Because of the magnetic attachments, nothing protrudes off of the device, making it sturdy and easy to throw in a pocket, or in my case a handbag, without any concern.

UX

I made it my goal to try setting up the vape without using the manual. Keep in mind, I'm the type of person that stares at IKEA manuals for hours before breaking out the screwdriver. After a couple of minutes spent fidgeting, I was able to master all the attachments, the loading process and charging. For a minimal device, the PAX 3 is very intuitive. Since there are no visible buttons, though, I had to turn to the manual to switch it on. As it turns out, the on/off/temp control button is on the tip of the mouthpiece. 

Heating up.

Good to go after about 15 seconds.

Turning the device on and off takes one click. When you turn it on, the lights on the PAX logo will flash purple. Once they turn green, in about 10-15 seconds, the device is heated and ready to go. To adjust your temperature (there are four temperatures pre-installed in the device), hold down on the button for two seconds while the device is still heating. Each temp setting has a different color, so it's simple to navigate between them. To check battery life, shake the device and the logo's lights let you know how much life is left (one bar for 25%, 2 bars for about 50%, etc.)—this feature is particularly nifty.

One thing I'm still not sold on is the button placement. On one hand, it's nice because there aren't any buttons on the device to accidentally hit while smoking. The only issue: I'm a germaphobe when it comes to hands. Especially if I'm sharing my device on the go, I don't want peoples' grubby fingers all over my mouthpiece. You don't actually need to press the button before smoking. Since there's a rainbow light show whenever you press the button, though, I'm sure non-owners will be all about pushing it for no reason.

When it's actually plugged in and charging, the light will glow white.

Charging the PAX 3 is easy if you have easy access to a USB port. The vape rests comfortably on a charging pad, similar to how you'd charge an Apple Watch. 

There's an accompanying app for the vape to help customize your experience a bit more, mostly through heat settings. I'm not an app person, but the UI on this one is straightforward and easy to navigate, so I give it a thumbs up. Creating your own heat setting is a neat feature once you use the device enough to gauge your temp preferences. 

Now for the fun part. I can't confirm or deny that I tried the PAX 3 because my mom might read this. Theoretically, if I did test it out (wink, wink) I'd say it was easy to load, easy to smoke, easy to carry around on-the-go and easy to clean after use thanks to the included maintenance kit. Even when fully heated, the device barely feels hot to the touch. Overall, a great user experience, coming from someone who's had bad experiences with vape design before. The best part? I don't think it will break anytime soon like the ones I've used in the past. And if it does, the sucker has a 10 year warranty. Sorry, mom.

Bringing minimalist design to the vape/e-cig movement may not seem like a huge deal, but when previous vape designs scream 'YEAH I VAPE' to everyone within a 10 foot radius, it does make a difference. So much of a difference, you probably won't even notice—literally. As vapes becomes more of the norm, so do their designs, which may not be a bad thing as long as form and function still get along swimmingly.

#vapelife without a PAX 3 (intense gaze, intense tux, intense vape)

It takes a lot to make this jaded blogger laugh out loud at a YouTube video, but these two got me. UX designer Joseph Herscher, whom we last looked in on last year, has since populated his channel with two food-based contraptions to make his life easier. This turkey one almost made me spit coffee onto my screen:

Then there's his method of getting sauce to the appropriate end of a bottle, with a little bonus feature:

I wish he and Simone Giertz were next door neighbors.

POPULOUS is a global architecture and design firm that creates the places where people love to be together, like Yankee Stadium, the London Olympics, and the Super Bowl. Over the last 30 years, the firm has designed more than 2,500 projects worth $40 billion across emerging and established markets. Populous’

Earlier we showed you the Wooton Cabinet Office Secretary, billed as "The King of Desks," a massive piece of furniture from the 1870s. By the 1880s the Wooton Desk Co. also started manufacturing a desk closer in proportions to a modern-day desk, albeit with similar functionality to its bigger brother. Here it is: The Wooton Rotary Desk.

It appears that, like its larger sibling, it came in different trim levels. Here's what we reckon is the base model, with a red leather top:

Then we move up to a rolltop model, and we can see that the buyer apparently had their choice of color for the blotter:

For even more storage up top, without stepping into the realm of the gargantuan Cabinet Office Secretary, we have a slightly fancier rolltop (note the shape of the sides).

It seems the buyer could choose whether they wanted drawers or compartments.

And I'm guessing this one was the top-of-the-line as it comes with a kind of mantle.

I also spotted this one online, and I thought "There's something odd-looking about this one…"

…then I read that these are actually shots of the scale model that the traveling salesman carried around with him, as the real deal was obviously too heavy to throw on the back of your horse. (Scale model or no, it sold for a whopping $7,995! I really hope the buyer read the description carefully.)

Here's an ad from the time, and the description provides some insight as to the appeal of the piece.

Remember that this was the 1880s, a couple of decades before filing cabinets were invented, so Wooton's designs were the best you could do for a see-everything-at-once paperwork system.

See Also:

The Wooton Rotary's bigger brother

Bless their hearts, Boskke makes super smart planting options without leaning on needless tech for their innovation. The brand is already a familiar friend around my house and the internet, thanks to their surprisingly practical upside down Sky planter, but this new design has its feet solidly on the ground. 

Called the Cube, this planter explodes the notion of hiding a self-watering chamber inside a pot... and the idea of an opaque pot too. 

Just plant your small green buddy, fill the tank through the small hole at the top, and grow. The design hinges on the company's "Slo Flo" passive irrigation, which uses a terracotta disk at the bottom of the planter to slowly wick moisture to the plant's roots. The team estimates that a single fill of water can last up to three weeks in moderate temperature conditions. There's even a triple seater, for the showboats and folks who don't like to play favorites. 

Putting both the water and the plant's roots on display is a fun inversion of expectations, and a bold and attractive choice when framed by the angular and refracting planter. It also makes monitoring the water level a totally passive and easy practice. Great for the yellow and brown thumbs who crave self-watering planters in the first place.

The only issue I can imagine with the design would be true of any passive feed watering - it might make a poor fit for drier plants. It does seem like it would fog up in warm or humid weather, but hey, that might still look cool. Overall it seems well considered for something so simple. 

On the interwebs I found this unattributed photo shot in a secondhand store. It's an unusual piece of furniture for sure: A freestanding Mission-style coatrack with two drawers for storage and an umbrella corral.

I've never seen a piece that incorporated all of these elements. Whether you think it's ugly or not is subjective, so I wanted to comment on it from a utility point of view and why I'd guess it's not a commercially successful design.

It's hard to tell in the photo, above, but if you look at the images I tracked down below you can see there are hooks on two opposing sides. There do not appear to be hooks on the side opposite the drawer faces. So this could be left away from a wall, in the manner of a coat tree, or against a wall, with the drawer faces parallel to the wall. It would not be space-efficient in a corner.

I like the flat top as a temporary surface. I could see coming in from outside with a package, throwing the package up there while I took my coat off and hung it, then grabbing the package to bring it into the house for processing. And I think that because the top is both high and not particularly wide, the precariousness of leaving things up there would prevent it from becoming cluttered. Maybe that's just me.

The drawers seem useful for stuff you only occasionally need when leaving the house, like sunglasses or a flashlight. In fact I have a list of these "sometimes" objects that I strategically leave near the door: Hand sanitizer and an AUX-IN cable for when I'm renting a ZipCar; a tape measure, notepad and pen if I'm going to buy raw materials; a carrying strap if I'm picking up a large package at the post office. I'd wedge all of this stuff in there.

I can't tell what the bottom of the umbrella corral is made out of, but while it doesn't look like wood, it appears to be a solid surface. That'd be the dealbreaker for me as I don't want water gathering near oak. I'd want something porous so that it would drain right through to an unseen little tray underneath that I could easily slide out to dump.

I did some digging and found the piece is distributed by Wayborn Furniture & Accessories, a self-described "leading importer and wholesaler of home furniture" whose "products are manufactured and imported from China's renowned factories" and are "exquisitely made." Here's the catalog shot confirming it's the same piece:

Retailers selling this exact piece include Walmart, K-Mart and Amazon. And it doesn't appear to be actual oak: Descriptions range from "durable wood" to "Birchwood." It retails from $199 to $383 and no one actually has any in stock.

I suspect that's not because it sells like hotcakes, but that there just isn't much of a market for it. It's not family-sized, and I can't think of many bachelor- or bachelorette-pads, or young childless couples' homes, that are decorated Mission-style.

In any case, that's my two cents spread over eight paragraphs. What do you think of this piece? And what do you think about taking an established style and using it to create new, hybrid pieces of furniture?

Remember our three-part series on space colony form factors? (Just say "yes.") 

The prevailing wisdom is that the shape of any large-scale space colony would have to circle back on itself so that the gravity created by rotating it would maximize the usable surface area:

We can't help but think of this while looking at the images from photographer Aydin Büyüktas' killer Flatland series:

How does he do it? Büyüktas sends a drone up to take aerial shots, then stitches them together digitally. See more of them here.

Via Colossal

See Also:

Space Colony Form Factors, Part 1: Bernal Spheres

Space Colony Form Factors, Part 2: O'Neill Cylinders

Space Colony Form Factors, Part 3: The Stanford Torus and Beyond

This position can be located in the following locations: Austin, TX, Cambridge, MA or San Francisco, CA Visual-Information Design: Works with and contributes to the evolution of a brand guideline or visual-information language system to translate the intended user experience to act

The vintage and antique goods reseller 1stDibs is selling this coat hanger storage rack with custom nesting hangers, made in Sweden in the 1960s:

Coat hanger storage objects are a familiar sight to anyone who's worked in retail fashion. But they usually look like this:

In other words, they're about bulk. Useful for storing racks at the register during purchases or when rolling out the new stock overnight. But what need could there possibly be for the (admittedly beautiful) Swedish design up above? Am hoping one of you has the answer.

By the way, the darn thing is going for "$739.26, Reduced From $1,576.36." Jeez Louise.

Started by industrial designer Michael Williams, Calavera Tool Works is a new company creating products to support craftspeople. They recently rolled out their line of hard-wearing leather shop aprons:

"We feel like the folks building fine furniture and cabinetry deserve gear that's just as comfortable and durable as the high dollar leather rigs you'll find on rough framing crews," the company writes. "Made from extremely tough leather that's selected for how well it breaks down and molds itself to the wearer, you'll come to appreciate your Calavera apron as you might a trusted baseball glove or well-broken-in pair of boots."

There are four different styles, all with nickel hardware, but created for users with differing preferences. Here are the distinctions:

Oil Finished Work Apron. Rugged, oil finished leather work apron that feels broken in right out of the gate. Features 3 hard-wearing, adjustable strap options made from the toughest bridle leather we could find. This leather starts out extremely soft, with an immediate broken-in feel and fit. Please be aware that oil-finished leather has the potential to stain light colored clothing due to its varying, but high content of, well... oil.

Veg Tan Work Apron - Mahogany. Tough, veg-tanned leather work apron that'll start a little stiff, but break in quickly for a perfect fit. Though all our Work Aprons are built to endure years of hard work, the Mahogany has got just a little extra meat on its bones, if you'll pardon the expression, and is ready to suffer whatever extra special punishment you might dish out.

Oil Finished Bison Work Apron - Sand. Ultra-soft yet incredibly durable American Bison work apron will make you very happy indeed.

Hand Dyed Veg Tan Work Apron - Walnut. We like to take a few liberties with our Walnut Work Aprons, so you can expect that no two are the same and that yours will start off with a character very much its own. Plus, you should probably know that although they start off stiff as a board, they are designed for an easy break-in for many years of comfortable wear.

All four styles come in three different sizes, and since folks can be picky about aprons, Calavera offers three different strap options "made from the toughest bridle leather we could find."

We took great care in designing each of our strap options, leaving plenty of length and ample points of adjustment, including buckles, post screws, and more. Our aprons are built to be used over a long day's work, so it's critical that yours fits just right. We're pretty sure we got that covered.

Neck Strap: Adjustable 3/4" neck strap with quick-release, adjustable 1" belt.

X-Back: For an incredibly comfortable fit, choose the adjustable 1" harness-style straps with quick-release.

Y-Back: Combines the comfort of the harness style straps with a sturdy, adjustable belt for a perfect, secure fit.

While the Bison model has the shortest description, it's apparently the most popular one, or the hardest to source; they're currently sold out.

Prices run from $140 to $195, and they're offering a full-refund return policy. "These things ain't cheap," they write, "and it's important to us that you're able to look back on your investment with excitement and pride for a very long time."

Expanding on their solar lighting line, Peak 720 presented us with the challenge to develop an LED light that users will actually want to display on their key chain, while aligning with the styling of previous Peak 720 products. We incorporated subtle design elements from prior items, while still providing a uniquely aggressive look and feel. Highlighted by its large solar panel coverage and recessed button to prevent accidental activation, we designed this device to be durable and reliable for the economic survivalist, and stylish and intuitive enough for the everyday user.

Assemble, the Turner Prize winning architecture and design studio based in London, are about to wrap up their residency at the A/D/O design work space in Brooklyn. To cap off their ongoing explorations, The Creators Project has produced a video detailing the idea behind their residency pitch entitled "A Factory as It Might Be". Check out the short film below:

The premise of Assemble's project was to consider how buildings of the future could be made simply and with a restricted amount of equipment. After researching production methods over history, the studio decided to build a factory on the A/D/O premises to create all of the incorporated elements—from light fixtures to building materials, even cups—using just one ceramic extruder. Their vision is to create a system where a factory could be sent anywhere "in kit form, which arrives onsite and goes up in a matter of days... which furnishes itself and then the surrounding area with its products," as they describe in the book detailing their process. 

Although clearly a mere conceptual investigation at the moment, the idea holds promise. "A Factory as It Might Be" imagines not only a sustainable building model, but also promotes the incorporation of beautiful design sprouting anywhere on the simplest possible terms. Where do you see room for improvement or possible roadblocks for a project like this? Share with us in the comments below. 

With the help of A/D/O, we're excited to offer the opportunity to develop a project of your own in the same space Assemble created "A Factory as It Might Be". Core77 readers, applications for our design residency at the A/D/O are due in less than 24 hours! To read more about how to apply, click here. 

I love seeing any gallery show that's about furniture. A few years ago I attended artist Francis Cape's "Utopian Benches" exhibition at the Murray Guy Gallery in Chelsea. Cape created a series of benches based on designs by people seeking Utopia (more on this in a bit). My son and I arrived at the gallery prepared to be enlightened, to be entertained, and to sit down.

The exhibit consisted of seventeen benches arranged in a grid in a large airy room. The arrangement screamed "Art" so your first inclination was to walk respectfully around them and try to get a visual sense of them. While all the benches do the same thing, they all look different, with different forms of joinery, differences in size, profile, and decoration. But that's not the point.

Eventually you sit down on one. And of course you try to form an opinion: Is this a good bench? What makes it special? Do you want to build it? You wiggle your butt against the bench and then get up and sit in another bench and do the same thing. This gets boring.

Then you start talking to someone, and since there are all these benches around, the natural inclination is to sit down and talk. In my case, I had a very interesting conversation with my son and then with Janice Guy, one of the gallery owners. As the conversation progressed, we moved seats a couple of times, and the point of the exhibit became clear. This show isn't about a bunch of benches. Sure, it's convenient to see them all in one place, and we all have favorites. What's important is how we react with a group of benches.

If you have a long bench, people can sit next to each other without really having to talk to each other. With two opposing benches, you can easily have a conversation. Benches, unlike dining chairs and sofas, speak to the communal. A single-seat chair is about the person sitting in it. A room of benches is about how groups of people interact—and that's what this exhibit is really about.

The benches in the show are for sale, but—true to the concept of the show—the benches are offered as "small gatherings" of at least three. And this is genius. Think of it in the context of a home. A single bench up against a wall or something is a plebeian piece of functional furniture handy for sitting when you're taking your boots off. A "small gathering of benches" in a den or living room begs to be sat on, rearranged, and made into a social focus of an area. For me, the most important takeaway from the show is how the way furniture can make people interact. I'm usually so focused on the details of a piece that it's pretty easy for me to forget the context of how the end users will use the furniture when it's in situ.

This exhibition was based on Cape's book (which we stock), We Sit Together: Utopian Benches from The Shakers To The Separatists of Zoar. I leafed through this book over a period of several weeks before reading the whole thing one morning whilst firmly planted on that ubiquitous urban communal bench—the subway.

For all the enlightenment in Europe during the 18th and 19th centuries, it was still a pretty inhospitable place for small religious sects, and many migrated to the United States in search of religious freedom. Many of these groups were highly communal, and the simple, backless bench was a sign both of piousness, and equality. Except in a very cursory way, this thin volume doesn't explore the beliefs of any of these groups. Instead, it investigates the construction, and reasoning behind different styles of bench. Each chapter deals with the basic history of a community and provides a measured drawing of a communal bench that would have been typical of the community.

This is a superb book to consult if you want to build a bench or two, and the benches are largely of very simple, straightforward construction. The book is a very interesting read with enough background information to inform without getting bogged down, and the round-up of bench styles is a real eye-opener on what can be done with a basic traditional form. For designers and furniture makers, We Sit Together provides an interesting overview of the implications and ideology conveyed by even the seemingly simplest of objects.

___________________

This "Tools & Craft" section is provided courtesy of Joel Moskowitz, founder of Tools for Working Wood, the Brooklyn-based catalog retailer of everything from hand tools to Festool; check out their online shop here. Joel also founded Gramercy Tools, the award-winning boutique manufacturer of hand tools made the old-fashioned way: Built to work and built to last.

I'm admittedly not the standard clientele for theme parks (long lines, rude kids and mediocre expensive food all give me hives), so getting me excited about a new attraction might or might not matter. But listen: if you let me sleep in a weird glass sea orb I will give you money. 

This week the Japanese mega amusement park Huis Ten Bosch announced just such a new perk for visitors. If you weren't already pumped for the sprawling odd Dutch-themed attractions or robotic hotel, maybe sleeping in a space pod will do the trick. They plan to offer the floating boat-esque rooms for nightly rental, as a part of the hotel accommodations on the park's newly acquired private island. They feature two floors and a very ah, intimate view of the harbor.

Details are still slim, but the teased design looks almost wholly spherical and features a glassy observation ceiling above a sleeping deck. Pretty nice way to enjoy the waves. The estimated price will be $260-$350 (¥30,000 - ¥40,000) per night, which is pretty doggone reasonable for a voluntary stay in a private UFO. Until more info drops stay on the look out for your own Utsuro-bune and the spooky aquatic women that come with them. 

H/T Japan Times via ArchDaily

How do you add more aesthetic value to a television? You can gussy up the housing to make it pretty, but Yves Béhar and Samsung have taken things a step further and are forging into new UX territory. Their collaboration has yielded The Frame, a new sort of television—and non-television—experience.

Starting with the notion that an unwatched television is essentially an ugly black rectangle, Béhar asked "What if the TV disappeared in the décor when it's not in use?" To that end, when The Frame is shut off, it goes into "Art Mode" and displays artwork.

"Big deal, a screensaver?" you say. Not exactly; Samsung hired art curator Elise Van Middelem to assemble a collection. "The Frame includes artists from the four corners of the world, from Southeast Asia to Canada, and from South Africa to Europe," Van Middelem writes. "We chose to select 100 artworks to start, divided into a variety of categories: Landscapes, Architecture, Wild Life, Drawing, Digital Art, Action, Still Life, Patterns, Urban Abstract and From Above; this would allow The Frame viewers to have the feeling of owning a curated art collection of museum quality."

[We collaborated] with 38 artists around the world in creating the most comprehensive, accessible, and stunning museum-quality art collection, exclusively for The Frame.

For each artist, whether emerging or established, participating within The Frame is a step out of their comfort zone. After all, we were asking them to show their work in an entirely new platform. Not only is this a digital interface, but it is in the homes of people all around the world. For these artists, the embracing of experimentation is what led them to provide their work for this collection - and for this - I thank them.

The Frame is imbued with sensors, so when nobody's in the room, it shuts off; when it detects people in its vicinity, it turns back on. It also reads the ambient lighting conditions and adjusts its own backlighting such "to make the art look as real as possible," says Béhar.

The result is art that blends in the environment in the same way that printed photography or a painted canvas would look. When you buy The Frame, you are also investing in these artists – pulling work specifically for this display, and presented as a piece of stunning artwork in your home.

We view The Frame as an entry into home décor and art – allowing people to build a personal collection in an accessible, affordable manner. The Frame shifts our paradigm of what a television can be; on or off, it adds value to our walls and our daily life. With The Frame, we believe the flat black box on a wall can be transformed into personal style and daily inspirations.

The Frame, which can either be hung like a painting or mounted in its included stand, will be available this Spring. And I have to say it looks very cool in action:

The role: As the Lead of our autonomous design team, you will lead a small team of designers in creating and implementing key product design work across various Athos products, included digital, apparel and HW/SW interaction systems. You will be involved

Mealtimes can be messy affairs, and not just with food. Wakufuru is a new furniture collection intended to take the edge off the loud sounds that often come with dining spaces. Designed for Glimarka by Johan Kapui, the set of tables, benches and additional seating all incorporate sound muffling materials within the simple solid ash wood frames. 

The tabletops are veneered MDF. Below is a hidden acoustic filling pad made from felt, perforated board, foam, and a layer of air to maximize the threat to clatter.

The furniture itself is elegant, sturdy, and modern. The smooth legs are modular, designed with a single cut and attachment system to streamline production and assembly across the differently sized pieces.

Incorporating sonic relief into the wooden frames, the Wakufuru system is aimed at homes and public spaces with calm aesthetics and less soothing acoustics. 

Hopefully someday someone will make a budget version for high schools across the planet.

More info at Glimakra.

Via Leibal.

During World War II, America cranked out some 640,000 Jeeps produced by both Willys-Overland and Ford. Once assembled, they could be stacked for transport with the assistance of intermediary pallets:

However, to get them onto ships for transport across the Atlantic and Pacific, they were broken down and crated for greater space efficiency. Look how small they were able to get these crates:

Now you know why the windshields were designed to be folded down.

The color photos are obviously of replicas. The giveaway is the American knock-off of the German "jerry-can" design, which would not appear until late into the war.

Here's a video that shows both original production footage from the 1940s, as well as two modern-day mechanics assembling one of the replicas:

An even more impressive demonstration is below. Watch these fellows at a Jeep festival completely tear the car down—and put it back together—in under four minutes:

I had a devil of a time tracking down where these replicas are produced, but it appears that they're manufactured by Philippines-based fabrication firm MD Juan and distributed by the France-based Jeep Village company that produced the first video above.

Duit - Conduit Bender

In our tech-driven society, it is easy to overlook the needs of an industry that still exists entirely in a physical environment. Much hasn't changed in regards to hand tool design and innovation in the recent past—and for good reason. Hand tools have evolved to reflect the needs of humanity's desire to create with physical means. Stone tools served humanity for millennia before we were ready for an improvement, and this same ancient technology is still in use in many hand tools today.

Much like our prehistoric ancestors, many veterans of the American labor force seem reluctant to change, akin to the reasoning of "if it isn't broke, don't fix it." This presents a problem unique to this industry and others that adhere to convention. Without innovation, an emerging workforce will be less likely to adapt.

When it gets right down to it, the construction industry thrives on efficiency. A construction company is only as good as the hands that do the work, regardless of whether those hands are young or old. Duit attempts to bridge the gap between generations of workers on a construction site, while remaining an intuitive tool for the DIYer.