This is my favorite kind of industrial design, the humble kind. Here's a great example of how adding a simple innovation to an existing product can vastly improve its function.

Plastic beverage coolers have existed for decades with the same basic design: Interior and exterior polypropylene walls, with a layer of polystyrene foam in between for insulation. Throw a spout on there and you're done. The problem is that the foam can only insulate so much, and on a hot day it's not long before your Gatorade goes from frosty to lukewarm. You can add ice, but that will of course dilute whatever you're drinking.

So the folks over at Double Cooler simply added a cylinder to the middle, hooked up to a second spout. The result: A dual-chambered cooler. Now you can put ice in one chamber and the drink in another, or poison in one and the antidote in the other, et cetera:

Alas, the innovation is simple, but apparently the additional molds and assembly required is not. A standard Rubbermaid or Coleman 5-gallon runs around 20 to 30 bucks, but the 7-gallon Double Cooler will set you back about 70.

At least the two spouts make it clear where the liquid comes out of, unlike certain problematic coffee carafes.

Talk about an in-demand craftsman: After knifemaker Bob Kramer was first featured in Saveur Magazine in the '90s, he was so deluged with orders that it took him ten years to catch up. Of all the certified Master Bladesmiths in the United States—there were 67 when he started out, and now just over 120 of them—Kramer is the only one who specializes in kitchen knives. "I have devoted my life," writes Kramer, "to the single-minded pursuit of crafting the perfect kitchen knife, and I am so grateful to those who appreciate my work."

When Anthony Bourdain went to visit the lone craftsman in his Washington-state shop, Kramer had something special in store for him. Not only would he make a knife before Bourdain's eyes, he'd make it using a chunk of meteorite. Watch the master as he makes a knife from outer space:

Brand new Hand-Eye bandanas have arrived! To get their just-right blend of old school practicality and contemporary fun we enlisted the help of Nathan Yoder. Nathan is an illustrator, hand-letterer and graphic designer currently based in Portland. His distinctive work ranges from bite sized visual bon mots to short stories, all with a heavy focus on physical processes and traditional skills. We sat down with him to chat about his background and methods.

HES: How would you describe what you do?

NY: I'm an illustrator and designer trying to work on paper as much as I can. Whether it's going to be a t-shirt or logo I'm still illustrating the design, whether it be the type or whole layout, I'm doing my best to draw that out on paper. The older I get the less I think of art and design as an end instead of a means to an end. To be an amazing designer was a thing I was striving for, and now it's more about how to connect with people, or the cliche 'how to tell a story' stuff. How to help people connect with what they're happy and passionate about. I hope that my passions get other people excited about their passions. Recently it's been more about connecting with the artistic side of things and a little less about the controlling design side of things, but definitely keeping design in the back of my head.

Why work by hand?

When I started drawing that was my first big love, and when I started design school drawing was still a big part of it. For the first few semesters they wouldn't let us even touch a computer, so it was still feeding that by-hand part of me. But the deeper into school the more we got into the creative suite stuff, and after school I got a job at a smaller agency and there wasn't really time for illustration any more. I hadn't been drawing in a style that was characteristic of me, so I wasn't really working fast enough to crank something out by hand at that time at the agency, so it just wasn't practical to pay me to illustrate things. But the more I worked on the computer the more I felt disconnected from my work. I was just handing off digital files all day, and could never see a tangible result of all my hours of labor. I started getting bored and burned out a bit, and started doodling at work, that's when this whole thing I'm doing now started.

Everybody knows limitations help with certain kinds of processes, but being confronted by that lack of an Undo function, especially when you've been immersed in that for work, seems like switching between the two would be uncomfortable. 

The thing is with computers is that you almost get super powers. All of a sudden once you're a superhero nothing's fun any more. You can fly and go underwater and do all this stuff, and you'd think that would be freeing. But I've found that it's more freeing when I realize my limitations and begin to understand that all these things that I can do, but moreso all these things that I *can't* do, are allowing me to be myself on paper. That's where doodling at the beginning was such a release for me. I was drawing strictly out of frustration and boredom and that's when people really started to take notice - as soon as I stopped trying to be noticed!

You talk about emphasizing process and being aware of the journey. At what point did that start being a key value?

I grew up in Oklahoma, and in 2013 I moved away and got a job doing illustration and lettering at a company in California. Just before all that happened was the time I'd started drawing and posting my hand done stuff online. I'd been talking to my dad about Life Stuff, and he was giving me the typical dad talk - "Son, you need a vision for your life!" And I was like "Uh, how do you get a vision?" That's such a broad thing.

Especially for young people! Vision, right. Based on… my years in school?

Right. So that was bouncing around in my head. Around that time I read a book by Simon Sinek called Start With Why, more of a businessy book, and I felt like I was getting more out of it on a personal level. The idea is if you're a company, figure out why you're doing what you're doing instead of preaching about all the little details and specs on your product and hoping that sells your product, when really the question is why is this [product] relevant to your life. For me, yes I love art and drawing, but those are just the "specs." Why am I actually drawing? If art was out of the picture and for whatever reason I couldn't draw any more, I still felt like there was something there I was passionate about.

After some digging I figured out that the thing that truly gets me excited, whether through art or just a conversation, is if I can help somebody see the thing they're excited about. The whole thing behind "Enjoy The Process" was this concept [that] too many people get caught up in an idea of what is going to be "success" for them. I don't think it's all bad, but in the broad sense people are using "success" as an attainable thing, that you can *have*. I think that's a little bit dangerous, not to use this as an excuse to not work hard, but if you have something that says "THIS is success for me" it puts all the power in your hands to say that you can make that happen. But I think it can create a lot of anxieties and fears, especially if you don't make it a few times, that can hinder your excitement about moving forward.

Depending on your personality, you might say "Ok that was a mistake and I can move forward," but if you're somebody who's really emotionally invested in your work it can be really detrimental and kill your momentum. I think "Vision" is a better way of putting it, looking down the road where I want to go, instead of the mountain at the end of the road being the only marker of success.

I don't ever plan on getting to that thing and wrapping my hands around it and saying I've succeeded, I just want to be going in that direction. Once you're ok with that, just heading in that direction, you can enjoy the ride of getting there. Enjoyment in whatever you're doing will only come when you take your eyes off yourself a little bit, see what the work is [you're] doing right now, what tools are in your hands, instead of being so bummed that you haven't reached your goal that you can't function. More of a motorcycle ride and less of a minivan-wish-I-was-there idea.

You do several types of work, from your hand lettering to writing and publishing. Do you have a favorite, or most intriguing kind of project?

I haven't done a lot of this yet, but I did a little zine a while back that had a bunch of illustrations but also short stories and articles mixed in with the artwork. That was really fun because I've always had my hand in a lot of things. Growing up I worked in motion graphics, and I was always making stupid movies with friends, and I like to play drums… Drawing is the one thing I've told myself to focus on and get better, instead of being mediocre at a bunch of things. Writing is the only other thing that's close enough to my artwork that I can invest enough time in to someday be decent at, and hopefully tie those together. Maybe in a kid's book? I also really enjoy a good editorial project, where I can take an article or story and get the abstract thought into an illustration. It's like making a logo for a story, since a logo is trying to fit a whole business in a single mark.

Where do you normally work?

I call it my "studio" but it's my apartment. I'll step out to coffee shops. My roommate Sam Larson does lots of pen and ink illustration stuff too, so it's basically a studio with bedrooms in it, since we're there working all day.

What makes for a good work environment?

Anywhere as long as it has a drafting table... preferably some hardwood floors?

You have a lot of traditional typography in your portfolio. What attracted you to that?

It's almost a natural tendency after looking at a craft like type structure, or where our alphabet came from. If you're going to make your work make sense you have to go back to where it started and understand why things are working the way they're working in order to really connect with it later on. Most people don't know the history of design but they've seen the progression, so if something isn't designed with history in mind they can see that something is off, they can't explain why but they know. When I started working on paper more it's like I was compelled to know where all that stuff was coming from so I could do it correctly. Naturally as you start to learn all the things about hand lettering and how it was originally done, you build a respect for it.

You also do a lot of traditional flash and small drawings. Is that a similar attraction?

Yes. That specifically has been a funny deal. It's subject matter that I was drawing as doodles for a long time without shading. I've always been impressed by traditional flash tattoo artists and the shading in their work, and one night I sat down and decided to put some watercolor to some of my linework. I really liked the look of it but it takes a lot to sit down and get out watercolors so I don't do it much, but I wanted a way to make it more accessible. So one trip back to Oklahoma visiting family, I was sitting at the table with one of my sisters and had a Sharpie that I always have and a ballpoint pen on the table. I'd drawn out a few quick illustrations, and then started tapping to do some more stippling type work to add shading to the linework. I still have that piece of paper with that initial type of flash stuff! By no means am I claiming it as an original idea or something that isn't heavily influenced by tattoo work. But it's fun to play with on paper, since I've never tattooed in my life. I don't know if it'll be anything really.

Have people had your work tattooed?

Yeah, I've had some people tag me in some shots. That's cool, because again it's all inspired by tattoo stuff. That's what I'm curious about. If I were to talk to a tattoo artist would they say "You're doing this wrong, and this wrong!"? It's cool to see how it transfers. Linework is such a big thing, especially with traditional work.

That sounds exactly like the attraction to simplicity and constraint that you're using in your other lettering and illustration.

Totally! A lot of tattoo artists, especially the traditional guys, are really incredible designers and their medium just happens to be tattooing. If you're going to do tattoo work in a traditional style, and it's going to hold up and the lines aren't going to bleed together, then you have to have a bold line, which requires simpler line work… and it is really constraining! After a while those guys are basically just designing flowers and faces, rather than drawing faces and flowers. It's something I really love about it. It is like building a logo version of things.

What do you think is important to have in a creative community?

As broad as it is, just… people. In community in general, I'm inspired by everyday people. Just like I try not to have too many [expectations] about my workspace, I try not to have too many [expectations] about the company I keep. I don't consider my friends only by what their skills and portfolios are. "Oh, you're just a nurse? You can't be my friend because I'm a Creative Person." Human expression is art! We label art as music and painting and illustration, but that's just one version of human expression. When I see anybody, a construction worker or a doctor, sitting down and passionately explaining what they do, that's what I want.

When I'm looking for a creative community, yes, there are personalities that specifically cater to a stereotypical creative person's workflow and lifestyle, and that's inspiring and we all need friends with common interests that inspire us in those shared interests. But if you have an open mind you can find yourself inspired by people outside of your common interests. As long as we get along and they can laugh at *some* of my jokes… that's it.

'I don't care what you think of my art, but if you don't like my jokes this isn't going to work.'

Yeah! That's one of the biggest things! Keeping humor involved, and being excited. It doesn't have to just be art. I want people that are excited about life.

You can see more of Nathan's portfolio online, follow his projects on Instagram, and pick up the Hand Eye x Nathan Yoder bandana for just $22.

In 1957 Ford released something rather crazy for the time: The Fairlane 500 Skyliner, a convertible with an automatic retractable hardtop. In an era when your only options were a retractable fabric roof or a manually-removeable hardtop unibody that you needed to stow in the garage, this was completely mind-blowing. Take a look at the operation:

Ford was not the first to pull this off, as inventors in America and Europe had been tinkering with the concept since the 1920s, and in the '40s rival Chrysler produced a concept car that could perform this mechanical trick. But Ford was the first American car company to get a retractable hardtop into mass production and they marketed the heck out of it, hiring the celebrity big guns of Lucille Ball and Ricky Ricardo to appear in commercials for it. (It being the '50s, it was unsurprisingly marketed with the "So simple even a woman can use it!" approach.)

Despite the marketing push and Ford's impressive mechanical prowess--the roof system used no transistors, instead relying on seven small motors, limit switches, power relays and reportedly more than 600 feet of electrical wire—they sold less than 50,000 of them, with 1959 being the retractable hardtop's last model year.

From the 1960s through the 1990s, the retractable hardtop was largely a forgotten oddity. But in the 2000s manufacturers began bringing them back. Mazda's offering for their upgraded 2006 roadster, the venerable Miata, featured a polycarbonate roof that folded up a damn sight faster than the Skyliner's, in roughly 12 seconds versus 50:

The mechanism on Volvo's 2007 C70 T5 convertible is a bit more complicated, though no less cool:

Mercedes's retractable hardtop mechanism, which they'd had since the '90s, was similar but had less sections due to it being a two-seater:

Even sports car manufacturer Ferrari got in on the retractable hardtop game with their 458 Spider (though purists might argue this was a retractable targa top):

I think my favorite in terms of slickness is the one on BMW's 3-series, 4-series, 6-series and M-class cars:

A BMW M4 convertible will set you back at least $74,000. Meanwhile Hemmings has got a pair of '57 and '59 Skyliners for sub-40 grand. Decisions, decisions….

THESE ARE ALL DEAD MOSQUITOES!!!

Summer's almost over, but mosquitoes still have at least another month to feast on your flesh. Is there anything worse than trying to sleep, then feeling something brush against your ear while you hear that little buzz and start slapping your own head?

I tried making that one DIY mosquito trap going around, the one with the soda bottle and the yeast. It didn't catch anything and I never bothered to refresh the yeast. But this trap below looks like a veritable death squad for mosquitoes, and I'm struck by how simple it is: 

I wonder if this would work with a Dyson fan, or if those are too quiet to attract the 'skeeters? In any case, here are the original fan traps the video above is based on, and an additional solar-powered model:

Organizers generally prefer staplers to paper clips for papers that need to be kept; they won't snag other papers by mistake and they won't fall off. I've seen lots of complaints about office staplers, but there are certainly many good designs out there.

Many old favorites are praised because they just work, reliably, year after year. The Swingline 747 staplers fall into that category. Comments like this one from Steve Lynch abound: "I have one on my desk ... and I can not remember it ever jamming in the 10 or so years that I have owned it." It's a metal stapler that handles 20 sheets of 20-pound paper, as long as you use Swingline's premium staples. 

Providing the staples is a smart move. While this may have been done to generate more profit, it also ensure that a critical part of the stapling process can be under Swingline's control. Purchasers rave about them, noting what a difference the premium staples make.

The Folle 26 stapler is another older product—it was designed by Henning Andreasen and introduced in 1977—that still gets raves. Back in December 2013 Sir James Dyson said: "The Folle stapler is a classic of Danish industrial design: simple, well-manufactured and enjoyable to use. It's made of stainless steel, hardened steel and iron, so it's serious. I've had mine since 1980, and it's still nicely satisfying to use."

Such staplers would work fine for many end users, whose main concerns are durability and reliability, and the ability to handle a reasonable volume of papers. (They also appreciate attractive design.) But other staplers have additional features that can be helpful.

I have an old desktop stapler, but I usually wind up using it as a hand stapler. The Max Vaimo 11 stapler seems designed for people like me—and for end users who would like a smaller (but not wimpy) stapler they could pack in a bag. It will fit comfortably into many end users' hands, and it staples up to 40 pieces of paper. 

One drawback: This stapler requires the staples designed specifically for it, which means end users who run out of staples have no short-term fallback position until they can get more of those Max Vaimo staples.

The Anything stapler won numerous design awards back in 2008-2009, but I have yet to figure out why. Yes, it's attractive. Yes, it can stand on end to save desktop space—but a stapler doesn't use that much space, anyway, and many end users won't want to fuss with putting it up and down. However, I've not found anything (beyond vague generalities) that explains how this design benefits the end user.

The Atomo stapler from Urban Prefer can also stand on end, but it has other notable features, too. It's easier on the hands; the end user just gently presses to staple up to 30-35 sheets. It's a flat-clinch stapler, so the staples lie flat on the back side of the papers. That lets stapled papers stack neatly, and it saves considerable space when they are filed away. 

The Atomo also has a simple loading process; the end user just presses a button on the back to have the staple compartments eject toward the front. Two sticks of staples can be loaded at once.

End users with physical limitations (and others!) may be well served by PaperPro, which is known for staplers that provide one-finger stapling. Different models handle different volumes of paper.

As the company explains: "The secret to PaperPro's incredibly easy and powerful performance lies in its unique, spring-powered technology. This patented mechanism is like having the power of a staple gun-inside your desktop stapler. It converts the pressure of a single finger into over 30 pounds of staple-driving power." 

PaperPro also claims these staplers "never jam" and the purchasers whose comments I've read say that's true.

The Novus flat clinch staplers can actually provide three types of staples: a permanent flat clinch, a temporary pin, or a tack (for putting papers on bulletin boards). The temporary pins provide a nice alternative to using paper clips, and the staples are easily removed without using a staple puller. 

While many staplers can be used in a tacking mode, an end user who needs to do a lot of tacking (or stapling of papers in odd places rather than just the corners) might appreciate the Align stapler with its detachable base.

I've always been a bit skeptical when it comes to staple-free staplers, but the Harinacs staplers from Kokuyo have convinced me to give them more consideration. They come in various sizes with different capacities.

Many of us no longer need to worry about putting stapled papers into recycling, and many shredders work fine with staples, so those may no longer be reasons for an end user to go staple-free. However, these staplers might still be great for end users with children and those who work in any environment where sharp pointed items are not allowed. And, of course, the end user never has to worry about running out of staples.

This video is in Japanese, and it's loud, but it does a nice job of illustrating how the stapler works. The stapler does leave a sizable hole in the papers, which might be a problem for some end users.

This quirky video illustrates how well the "staples" hold, assuming the end user doesn't go over the recommended number of papers. 

Last month we showed you Thorstin Crijn's vision of a flying driver-less Uber service. Crijns has been testing out his multi-rotor vehicle himself in his home country of Holland, and apparently he's not alone in his thinking of aircraft design; over in the UK, this unnamed maniac built a manned aerial vehicle he's calling The Swarm.

Unlike Crijns' 20-rotor creation, The Swarm features freaking 54 of them, enough to lift 164 kilograms (about 360 pounds). At six minutes the video's too monotonous to ask you to sit through the whole thing, but it's worth a scan—and there is one amusing part where the pilot goes too high, causing the cameraman to cry out in abject fear:

I think my favorite part of this video might be the black socks. And what do you guys reckon the umbrella is for? Purely protection from that famous British sunlight?

Jason Camberis remembers what it was like to play arcade games as a kid. Now a grown man, the Chicago-based engineer builds and kits out arcade cabinets for a living. But no matter how faithful his reproductions, when you compare the sensation of playing one as an adult versus playing as a child, there's something missing in the UX: The sheer sense of scale.

On a lark, and to put smiles on people's faces, Camberis has rectified the problem with his latest creation: The Largest Arcade Machine in the World, as certified by the Guinness Book of World Records.

The gargantuan machine stands over 14 feet (over 4 meters) tall, and the unideal ergonomics are bound to provide some cramping after intense sessions. But Camberis wanted to be able to really play the thing, too; what they don't show you in the video is that he's actually designed in a pull-out staircase on the bottom to get you to a more manageable height. Read more about it at the link below.

ViaGuinness World Records

You've seen what we former ID students once had to carry. But for those of you currently in school for ID, what items do you carry each and every day? Don't tell us—show us! Snap a photo, "everday-carry"-style as seen below, and send it to us (details at the bottom of this entry).

Image via Gear Hungry

Image via Urban Survival Guy

Why should you bother? Because we'll sift through the photos, pick the best of the best, and feature them in an entry on September 14. We'll also pick out the best three and give the winners a $25 Hand-Eye Supply Gift Certificate!

Remember, even if you're a sophomore, you're an ID student now! Meaning we'd love to see some thoughtfully-composed, designer-ly photos. Your shots will be judged by the following criteria:

1. Creativity

Image via Gear Hungry

Image via Vinjabond

The way you shoot your objects, what you shoot them against, and how they are arranged.

2. Clarity

The creativity factor mentioned above oughtn't come at the expense of clarity. As a working industrial designer you'll be expected to clearly present your ideas to others, providing information without extraneous fuss. How will you communicate to the viewer what each object is? Call-outs? Numbers with a key? Or maybe you've got a unique solution?

Image via Everyday Carry UK

Image via More Than Just Surviving

3. Coolness

Do you have a particularly innovative way of carrying or storing a given item? Have any killer, unusual tools or devices that help you with your work? Time to show it off!

Image via Everyday Carry

Image via Urban Survival Guy

Restrictions:

The only restriction is that you cannot have any objects that are black, white or grey. Just kidding—there are no content restrictions outside of the criteria listed above. Feel free to include the bag you carry everything in, or don't. Shoot it all in one photo, or break it into as many as you need to tell your carry story. And of course you can include non-ID-specific items that are crucial to your daily routine.

As for resolution, bear in mind that if you go wider than 1080p and use tiny letters, your text will shrink even more in our web interface. Design challenge ahoy.

How to Enter

1. E-mail the photos to us at core77editors[at]gmail{dot}com.

2. Subject line must read "ID-EDC."

3. Send us (a) your name or a catchy alias, (b) the name of your school and program and (c) your year of ID study.

That's it! We look forward to seeing what you all have to haul.

Welcome back, ID students!

Back in July—when you were doing shots of Jaegermeister while swiping left or right, or whatever it is you hooligans do on summer break—we were reminiscing about the mass of items industrial design students had to carry in the early '90s. In that pre-computer era, the objects were many. Here's a re-cap:

Part 1: Drawing Implements

How many different ways are there to make a mark on paper? Plenty—and starting sophomore year, this ridiculously long list of mark-making implements were all required.

Part 2: Drawing and Drafting Supplies

We each had a tacklebox full of items we needed just to produce a simple drafting on paper. Remember, before computers, "CAD" just meant "jerk."

Part 3: Paper

Drawing by Bob Borson

Sure, you current ID students still use paper. But how many different kinds? I guarantee we earlier ID folks killed more trees in a single semester than you'll kill in six.

Part 4: Tools

What the shop didn't provide, we had to bring. Tools for shaping, cutting, bending, gluing, soldering, and sabotaging your classmates' work.

Part 5: Cases

Early-'90s rave-style cargo pants or no, we couldn't just shove all of this stuff into our pockets. So we had all sorts of bags, bins and cases to tote it all in.

What Does the Modern-Day Industrial Design Student Carry?

Current ID students, now that you're all back in school, you've undoubtedly assembled your own pile of modern-day design needs. We want to see what you're carrying.

The beginning of the school year is a magical time. Nine months brimming with the promise of creative productivity lie before you: is there anything you can't do? This will certainly be a year full of studio epiphanies, happy collaborations and eye-opening lectures. But it's hardly ever so simple. There always comes a point when things get a bit more complicated than you expected (sorry), when assignments have piled up so far you can't see straight and the muses aren't quite by your side. To help you navigate the often unwieldy transitions between the good days, the bad days and everything in between, we've compiled some of our best pieces of advice, culled over the years from people who have been there, done that. 

1000 Words of Advice to Design Students

Allan Chochinov walks you through everything you need to know about design school. His refreshing nuggets of wisdom reinforce habits that pertain to graduates as well. A key takeaway: Your teachers work for you, so make sure you know what you want and need and are taking steps to communicate those things.    

Hack 2 School

Why is documenting your work the single most important thing you can do? What constitutes the elusive, perfect pen? How can you help your budget by building dorm room furniture out of cardboard boxes? This guide to hacking all areas of your school life will answer everything you want to know—even how to innocently prank your teacher. 

If I Knew Then...

A 138-post thread pooling our reader's 20-20 hindsight. One poster refers to it as a "gift" for incoming students, so read up and maybe you won't have to say "If..." when the time comes. 

Five Keys to Successful Design Research

Steven Portigal shows you how to hone your design research skills and get out into the field to uncover new needs and prepare relevant solutions. While you're at it, check out this post too, on how to get better at noticing things and telling stories. 

Sketchnotes 101

Designers are inherently visual thinkers and having a good understanding of the benefits of taking sketchnotes and adding them to your arsenal may prove vital to your work!

As always, we encourage you to explore the wide variety of design resources we've amassed via our Core77 Design Awards program, the Coroflot portfolio site, our Design.edu channel and the recently launched Projects page. If you're looking for an idea or possibly just a way to make your procrastination more productive, these pages are here to inspire you. 

And we're back to school with a roundup of our editors top picks for design students. Celebrating our anniversary has been a great way to remember how it all got started—as a student project for an industrial design program at Pratt. Now, 20 years later, we're proud to continue providing design news and resources for the community and what better way to do so than to kick off the school year with the basics. Whether you're entering your senior year or your first, here are our favorite resources and ideas for mastering this year's work flow.

Gallery: Design School Workshops

We start with a behind-the-scenes look at four design schools and their workshop facilities to understand the foundations of making things in design schools today. See the milling machines, lathes, vacuum formers and 3D printers used in facilities around New York City and hear from program heads about why they've chosen to use these tools.

Objects from the Innate Gestures workshop at Cranbrook with guest designer Leon Ransmeier and 3D designer-in-residence Scott Klinker

D-School Futures

In D-School Futures, program chairs from design schools around the United States share key insights and reflect on the current state of design.

• Art Center's Karen Hofmann on the ever-expanding role of the designer

• Carnegie Mellon's Wayne Chung on training designers to solve wicked problems

• CCA's Sandrine Lebas on why designers of physical experiences will always be in demand

• Cranbrook's Scott Klinker on why ID education should move students beyond skills toward 'cultural maturity'

• Georgia Tech's Jim Budd on why there has never been a better time to pursue a career in industrial design

• Parson's Rama Chorpash on navigating design dichotomies

• Pratt's Scott Lundberg on teaching ID students 'to think and act with change'

• RISD's Soojung Ham on why now is a great time to embark on and ID career

• SAIC's Lisa Norton on why students must learn to befriend failure

• SCAD's Owen Foster on the value of being a hybrid designer

• SVA's Allan Chochinov on the 'difficult, conflicted, blurry territories' facing design

• University of Cincinnati's Craig Vogel on why today's design careers are akin to improvisational jazz

• University of Michigan's Bruce Tharp on integrative design

Photo by Kyle Oldfield

And check out more advice for starting off the school year on the right foot:

Advice to Design Students:

Teachers (including Core77 partner and SVA Product of Design Chair Allan Chochinov), alumni and fellow design students share words of wisdom on everything from how to sketchnote to where to find inspiration.

What Industrial Design Students Once Had to Carry

In this fun blast from the past, take a look at what ID students in the past were carrying in their toolbox and share your current back to school supplies for a chance to win a gift certificate to Hand-Eye Supply!

Get tickets to see Matthew Manos at the 2015 Core77 Conference, coming up this October in Los Angeles.

Name: Matthew Manos

Occupation: I'm the founder of verynice, a global design-strategy and foresight consultancy that gives half of its work away to nonprofits. And I'm also the founder and research director at Models of Impact, an online platform and consultancy that helps social entrepreneurs design business models.

Location: Los Angeles

Current projects: One exciting project is for Architecture for Humanity, which was a major organization in the pro-bono space that, unfortunately, went bankrupt fairly recently. But what's exciting is that a lot of the chapter leaders and their volunteers went rogue and decided to launch a new organization, and we're helping them create a business plan to do that.

Another recent project is with Google. We partnered with them to help re-launch the One Billion Acts of Peace campaign in the form of a mobile app, and that project was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize, which is pretty insane. I never though I could be a part of a project that did that. Our role has been helping them manage a pro-bono engagement, as well as doing brand strategy and a bit of work on product development—helping to develop concepts for different features and test those ideas with their users.

Mission: There are two parts. One is to create new kinds of approaches to business that allow organizations to make more impact either by saving financial resources or by operating more like a business would. The other is to trick designers into giving their work away for free.

Through verynice, we invented the "give half" model, which really sparked a new movement in pro bono, especially within the creative communities. Something that I spend loads of my time doing, and that I really would consider my mission, is helping designers and creatives realize that giving your work away doesn't necessarily mean that you're losing something, but it's actually a way to gain something totally new. I want to convince designers that pro bono can be a really exciting part of their practice, in developing their skills, or in karma, or in being a designer that can make an impact in the world.

Manos is also the author of the book How to Give Half of Your Work Away for Free.

A verynice project in the making

When did you decide that you wanted to be a designer? When I was 16, at a skate park in Sunnyvale, California. About a week prior, I had gotten a pirated copy of Photoshop, just to teach myself things here and there. At the skate park I saw a guy in a wheelchair who was skateboarding really well, which is obviously something you don't see every day. I was inspired to introduce myself, and I learned that he was the founder of a nonprofit called Wheelchair Skater, which taught children in wheelchairs how to participate in extreme sports and get around a skate park. I was super inspired and I basically asked if I could design some stickers for him, and that became my first pro-bono engagement and my entry point to the design industry.

Education: I got my Bachelor's from UCLA in Design Media Art, and then right afterward I went to Art Center to get my MFA in their Media Design Practices program. Both of the programs are really transdisciplinary, so they try to teach that design is not necessarily one thing. It can be a big array of things or even just a way of thinking strategically or a way of storytelling. Those are definitely concepts that have had a lot of impact on how I approach design in general.

First design job: In the beginning I was essentially trying to get as many internships as possible, and my first one was for an insurance company in the Bay Area. I wasn't necessarily passionate about insurance, but I thought it would be a great way to work under another designer who had a ton of experience. It was a very small company and he was the only designer there—and my first week, it turned out, was his last week. He had given his two weeks' notice right before I started. So all of a sudden I was thrown into this situation where I was the design intern, but I was also the lead designer for the company. So that was . . . interesting.

Who is your design hero? I think, if you asked me that in college, I would have said David Carson or Stefan Sagmeister. But as my interests have evolved more into this design-strategy space, my definition of design has become much broader. Now I would say my hero is this guy named Muhammad Yunus. He would never consider himself a designer, but he wrote a book called Building Social Business, and he was one of the earliest people to introduce the idea that there can be this middle ground between being a business and being a nonprofit. To me, that's actually a space that he designed, or a medium that he created for a lot of us to play with.

For the nonprofit School on Wheels, verynice ran a comprehensive workshop that led to a complete website redesign.

Describe your workspace: It's a loft in downtown LA, in the Arts District. I don't have a set desk, which I thought meant that I was going to float around—but I ended up always sitting at our conference table, and as a result about half of it is covered in piles of illustrations and doodles that I'm working on. The other half is covered with my laptop and other computer equipment. There are dice sprinkled all over the place. And then, on the walls, there are Post-its everywhere, from whatever our most recent workshop was.

Other than the computer, what is your most important tool? I always have my notebook, colorful pens—and dice. The dice are a weird new obsession of mine. When I was in grad school, one of my biggest interests was this idea of conditional creativity, or creative projects that are essentially generated from a set of rules. Lately, I've been excited about the potential for using dice for that kind of work. We use them a lot in our workshops. And they come in all these different colors, so they're fun to look at, too.

What is the best part of your job? Hosting our workshops—because the thing I'm really passionate about, outside of business, is teaching. And running workshops is like this perfect marriage of my passions for teaching and for creating solutions for organizations and businesses.

What is the worst part of your job? I think that any business owner would probably say the worst part is all of the logistical stuff you have to do. We pretty recently moved out of a co-working type of environment and into our own private office, and what I found is, all of a sudden, somebody has to worry about if there's toilet paper or not, and somebody has to worry about setting up the Internet and buying furniture and all of these things. I think that's my least favorite part of the job.

Verynice designed—and helped collect data for—the 2013 Downtown Women's Needs Assessment for the Downtown Women's Center in Los Angeles.

What time do you get up and go to bed? I get up at 6:20 in the morning and normally go to bed at about 10:00 or 10:15 at night.

How do you procrastinate? Primarily by doing a project that I shouldn't be doing at that exact moment. It's this weird thing where, if there's a project that's due tomorrow and a project that's due the week after, I'll always work on the project that's due the week after. It's productive procrastination, I guess. I always tend to get more excited about the stuff that I'm not supposed to be doing.

What is your favorite productivity tip or trick? If I'm ever really in a situation where I have a ton of projects due in one day, I'll use Google Calendar to block off time, to the minute, for each of those projects, and alternate them throughout the day. It basically makes it so that you're sprinting on a project and then coming back to it again later—so you don't feel overwhelmed by doing the whole thing at once.

What is the most important quality in a designer? Having other interests outside of design. I've found that people who either have unique backgrounds that are completely unrelated to design, or who have these parallel lives and interests, end up having really, really interesting processes. For example, let's say you used to be a scientist, and you made a career change and now you're a designer. The way that you design is going to be totally unique because it's going to be very research driven, and maybe inspired by science in terms of form or function. That kind of stuff I really love.

What is the most widespread misunderstanding about design or designers? That designers make pretty things. That's something that I try to advocate against quite a lot. Sometimes the solution you need might be something ugly, or something that you actually don't like—because you might not be the audience for it, or something pretty just might not be appropriate, given the circumstances. I think that a big misconception about design and the use of designers is that we just love making facades of things, as opposed to really thinking about how that thing actually works or what the thing even is. It's unfortunate that, a lot of the time, designers aren't invited to the table until the project's 90 percent done.

An app for the Keep a Breast Foundation, developed by verynice with The Rare Studio

What is your most prized design possession? My books. If you look at my bank statement, aside from bills, it's basically food or books. It's dangerous. I just love the tactility of books and the memories that books provoke in you.

What is exciting you in design right now? Definitely this conversation about design for social impact—which is happening on a deeper level now. I think it's having a marriage with the whole designer-as-entrepreneur movement. So designers are getting excited about things like business models and impact models. They're getting excited about ideating different products and services that they could either launch themselves or within another company or organization. I think it's really extending the definition of design.

If you could redesign anything, what would you choose? Well, I've been fortunate to have the chance to design a lot of the things that I've always dreamt of designing, whether those are business models or brands or products or whatever. But if I'm going to be selfish for a moment, I'd definitely want to design a skate park. What I think is amazing about skateboarding is that it does actually change the way you see the world. It makes it so that things aren't curbs anymore—they're opportunities for creating a moment or an exchange of some sort. It's also a great community-building tool. So I would love to think back on all of the different skate parks I've been to, and redesign one to be the ultimate skate park. I'm not saying I would do a great job—I can't build things for the life of me—but I would love to give it a try.

Richard Danne was involved with NASA starting in the '70s, and among his peers, the mood was dark. "A lot of us felt that our country…was way behind," he explains. Not in terms of the space race, which we were winning, but "in terms of design's role in society."

Danne wasn't a test pilot or engineer, but a graphic designer. In 1973 he formed the Danne and Blackburn design studio with partner Bruce Blackburn, and just a year later the fledgling firm had landed a big-league contract: To design the graphics standards for NASA.

NASA sported Danne & Blackburn's design work for some 18 years, until a new Director canned it in 1992. Now Pentagram partners/designers Jesse Reed and Hamish Smyth, the guys who got the 1970s New York City Transit Authority's Graphics Standards Manual back into print last year, are looking to do the same for Danne & Blackburn's NASA work.

The response on Kickstarter has been tremendous; at press time they'd garnered $650,000 on a $158,000 target. Bringing back classic graphic design is big business, it seems; their earlier NYCTA campaign landed $802,812 on a $108,000 goal.

For those of you who'd like a copy of the NASA book, there's still 27 days left. Buy-in starts at $79.

Given Danne's background in design that has been to outer space, we tried to contact him to see if he knows the architect of the Death Star. Our messages were not returned.

If there is a design flaw with standards sockets, it's not in their function. It's in their UX:

While I scored well on that eye test for designers, my vision ain't what it used to be, and I simply can't read these etchings from arm's distance. I'm not alone in this, so starting around ten years ago (I believe), companies started laser-etching their sockets like this:

However, most socket organization systems I see, whether DIY or store-bought, look like this:

Can't exactly see the etchings, can you? Those designs require you to either memorize the location of each socket, or pull-and-check to find the size you're looking for.

It's not perfect, but this DIY solution I stumbled across seems a step in the right direction:

Props to Ryan Battelle for coming up with the idea.

Readers: How do you all store your sockets? I'm particularly interested in hearing from those of you with bad or declining eyesight.

For every structural breakthrough with carbon fiber or nanotubes, it's interesting to see we still haven't maxed out the capabilities of more common materials. A trio of origami-minded researchers have discovered that if you cut common paper into a particular zig-zag pattern, then join it with another sheet of the same shape to form a kind of zipper, you get a freakishly strong structure. Even better, "The structure folds up flat, yet rapidly and easily expands to the rigid tube configuration."

It's difficult to understand this "Zippered Tube" technique by looking at photos, but this video demonstration should make it more clear:

The far-flung researchers--grad student Evgueni Filipov from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, Georgia Institute of Technology professor Glaucio Paulino and University of Tokyo professor Tomohiro Tachi--published their research this week in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences journal. 

I'm hoping they'll release the patterns into the wild, allowing an army of curious makers to experiment with zippered tubes in paper, wood, plastic and metal. Can you imagine what an Izzy Swan, a Matthias Wandel or a Jimmy DiResta might be able to create with the technique?

Where do you start when beginning a new project from scratch? I knew I needed to make something to organize my drill bits, but had no idea what it should look like. I poked around on the web to see what others had done, but found only partial inspiration.

So I went back to my old-school ID training and started with the constraints. My circumstances dictated what the thing would be made of, and I knew I'd use the ShopBot to make it. I then looked at two bit-storage tricks I'd previously used to see what I should and shouldn't do this time around. So then I had 1) Material, 2) Tool, and 3) An Approach to Avoid.

Starting with those guidelines, it just became a series of basic decision-making and form-follows-function, then everything fell into place:

For those that missed the original video, it's here.

Have you been wanting to get a RAID drive for your personal computer, but aren’t willing to part with the cash? Have you been slowly amassing a pile of stolen flash drives from work to compensate for your unpaid overtime? If the answers to these questions are “Yes,” then we’ve got the solution for you.

The YouTuber known as The iBookGuy wanted to know if he could rig up a RAID drive using nothing more than a USB hub and a handful of flash drives. If you’ve thought about doing this yourself, have a look at the pluses and minuses of this set-up:

And yes, I know he used a 2.0 hub rather than a 3.0. But look at this as a proof-of-concept.

If you're not an apartment dweller like me, and thus have a kitchen big enough to support an L-shaped counter, then you have another problem: The dead space in the "blind corner" where the two axes meet. Luckily for you, there are a host of design companies with solutions for how to utilize this otherwise wasted space.

On the basic end, you've got Knape & Vogt's slide-out base blind corner unit:

It gets a bit sexier with County Kitchens' "Magic Corner" solution:

Waricorner's solution is similar if not identical, and their video gives you a better look at the mechanism:

Haefele's "Lemans" system, so named because their solution is shaped like the famous racetrack, goes full-on sexy:

This man is so excited to show this blind corner solution for drawers that he doesn't bother to mention the manufacturer (it's Germany's Blum):

And if none of these are high-tech enough for you, then check out Q4 Home Solutions' appliance lift:

Editor's Note: If you feel you've spotted some of these before on Core77, that's because you have—this is an updated version of an older post with some newer solutions added.

When you think of working a material like stone, you imagine it taking forever, as you patiently tap away at it with a chisel and hammer. But Jesse de Geest, a/k/a the Samurai Woodworker, has an absurdly fast method for carving a sink out of granite, performing in a few hours what I'd think would take days or weeks. Even more impressive, he does it all with cheap, readily available tools.

Admittedly, de Geest isn't your average DIY weekend warrior; the Canada-based Master Carpenter has the experience and the hand skills to make this look easy. Check out his technique: