From the Flamingo Potato Smasher to Food Design:
Exoticization, Monstrosity, and Spatial Reconstruction of Gendered Labor
We invites the designer of flamingo potato smasher—Dani for an interview.
F: I think at the beginning we wanted to start with the design inspiration, which is a classic question. I would like to ask how the idea of this flamingo potato press came about? Why did you choose a flamingo as your design inspiration? Because it doesn’t seem to me often that flamingos and kitchenware get together.
D: The inspiration actually came from the shape of the flamingo. Its curves are very elegant, its posture is very light, and its two long legs are very recognizable. These characteristics make me think that it can be “well” integrated into tool design, especially in everyday items such as kitchen tools. I want to add some more unique, um, more unique beauty. The initial design is actually closer to the real shape of the flamingo, but later in order to make the tool more functional, I made some adjustments to its structure, such as adjusting the thickness of the grip to make it more ergonomic, while retaining its streamlined, tall and elegant visual effect. The final shape can be said to be a compromise between function and beauty. It looks like a flamingo, but it is a bit weird.
F: Indeed, its current form doesn’t seem to be exactly like a flamingo, but more like a new being. Actually, when I first looked at it, I didn’t realise it was a flamingo, I was more inclined to think of it as a sex toy or a sculpture. It is neither like a regular potato smasher nor a flamingo, and it is also different from traditional biomimetic design. Did you deliberately design this “four dislikes” trait?
D: I wanted it to be a design that sparked curiosity. When consumers see it, their first reaction may be, “What is this?” Is it a flamingo? This sense of uncertainty is just the right thing to draw people to look at it a few more times.I don’t want to lose a lot of the fun and possibilities if this is a tool design that can be expressed in a particularly straightforward way.I wanted it to be a form somewhere between the natural and the artificial, familiar and unfamiliar, and to arouse an interest in exploring.
F: This ambiguity reminds me of Tim Ingold’s theory of “making”. He mentioned that the process of making is not only the process of realizing the function, but also the dynamic dialogue between the designer and the materials and tools, through the constant movement of the mouse of the model, or the contact and awakening of every moment when you rub the model by hand. It’s also very sensory. Did this conversation happen during your design process as well? In particular, when the form of the flamingo gradually becomes “four dislikes”, is it also the result of the interaction between the designer and the material?
D: I think that’s exactly what it is.Every step of the way in the design and production process, I have a “dialogue” with materials, functions, and possible future needs. For example, at first I wanted to make its neck thinner, closer to the true proportions of the flamingo, but then I found that the slender neck was not comfortable to hold and unstable, so I adjusted the thickness of the neck. This adjustment is not completely according to the design drawing, but according to the actual feel of the model and the strength of the material. I think the process of making is like a dynamic negotiation, and the designer, the materials and tools are not one-way control, but mutually influencing.
F: It’s a really interesting interaction. Traditionally, we tend to focus more on the end result when we talk about design, and ignore the dynamic changes in the production process. The “dialogue” you just mentioned makes me feel that your design is not just to achieve a certain function, but to carry more narrative and emotion. This is very different from the design logic of traditional kitchen tools, right?
D: yes, I really don’t want it to be just a tool. I think the design of traditional kitchen tools is more about efficiency, such as knives and shovels, which are usually very simple in line and simple in color, and rarely consider decoration. I hope that my tool itself is not just for labor, but can become an object worth displaying and appreciating.For example, if you put it in the kitchen, it can become an ornament even when you don’t use it.I think that’s good. Even when you pick it up, it’s not really that handy.
F: It reminds me of Haraway’s theory of “monsterness”. Monsterism is a quality that blurs boundaries and challenges categorisation, and your design blurs the lines between natural and artificial, tool and decoration, she mentions. After the image of the flamingo is functionally transformed, it not only retains some natural elegance, but also creates a new existence through the adjustment of form. Is this monster an implicit goal in your design?
D: Monsterness is really a natural trait that I didn’t explicitly consider in my design. Its form has been remodelled for functional needs, but at the same time retains the visual qualities of the flamingo, and this ambiguity and abruptness make it interesting to me. I wanted it to be not just a tool that meets expectations, but an object that makes people stop and think. The monster you mentioned makes me think that the “unconventional” nature of this form may be the reason why it can spark discussion.
F: I think when I talk about unconventionality, and when I think of so-called monsters and other species, I think of the work of Meret Oppenheim. Her most famous works, such as the hairy cup, are very surrealist and have the avant-garde spirit that was unique to that era. Do you get some inspiration from her work?
D: Oh, I don’t know about her work. But looking at the picture, there are some similarities in the elements of our work. It’s just that I think she conveys more of a surreal aesthetic as well as feelings of disgust. Its work is a wild collage of elements from different species, while mine is probably closer to using the beauty of biomimicry. But I think both of our works have monster overtones in them. But I may be a little more “dislike” than her work.
F: Haha, yes, I feel that its work is more “disgusting” and “repulsive”. Coming back to your work, I think this design of yours may also spark some criticism. For example, the image of the flamingo has a strong exotic quality, it conjures up images of a tropical resort and a relaxed atmosphere, but the kitchen itself is a place of labor. Do you think this design somehow obscures labor, especially women’s labor in the kitchen?
D: That question really made me rethink. The image of the flamingo does have a holiday and relaxed association, while the reality of kitchen labor is often exhausting and repetitive.This kind of design may glorify labor to some extent, or even make people ignore the gendering issue behind labor. But I think that design doesn’t have to be about depicting reality, it can also provide an imaginary space to escape from reality. Perhaps this design allows the user to temporarily withdraw from the burden of labor and feel a sense of aesthetic pleasure.
F: It is true that the motivation to design the glorification of labor is inherently understandable, but it can also further obscure the value of labor, especially for women. I’ve noticed that a lot of feminist critics point out that modern kitchen design, such as Frankfurter’s kitchen design, you should understand, is to make labor more “invisible” through a combination of functionality and aesthetics. Of course, on the one hand, this aesthetic is very masculine, but he also forces women to accept this aesthetic, and in fact still reinforces the gender division of labor. Although your design does not seem to be designing the whole kitchen, but just a tool, although it breaks the image of traditional tools with monsters and decorations, does this exoticism also reinforce a romanticized narrative and over-romanticize kitchen labor?
D: This is really where design needs to be wary. The glorification of labour may make people ignore the inequality behind labour, but design can also reverse this phenomenon in another way. I want to make the tool a conversational object through my design. For example,its weirdness may make people stop and think about its purpose and meaning, rather than taking labour for granted. Perhaps this way of “breaking expectations” can be a small revolt against gendered labour. When I designed, I didn’t think of it as a tool that I used frequently, but as a decorative object and cultural object. I envision that it might be used two or three times a week, but more often than not it is placed in a corner of the kitchen, as a visual presence. This actually allows this design to reconstruct the kitchen space. This design idea is also a redefinition of the kitchen space – it is not only a functional place, but also a space with artistic and aesthetic significance.
F: The “dialogism” you mentioned earlier in design reminds me of scholars’ discussions about objectivity. Objecthood or objecthood does not simply deny subjectivity, but provides a dependency for the formation of subjectivity. I think the most frequent case of feminist criticism is that people always talk about the objectification of women, but it always seems to stop at the place of things. The object becomes a very mysterious, alienated negative character. People don’t seem to be discussing whether this materialisation itself can be dismantled and used to present what the designer wants to present. I think your design cuts into objectivity from the perspective of materiality through the image of a flamingo, which blurs the traditional definition of a tool and gives it more cultural and social significance. Whether this ambiguity can be seen as a resistance in itself.
D: I think that’s understandable. I hope that this design will open up a new space through this monster, the nature of hybridisation between objects and other species, so that it is no longer just a tool, but an existence that can be redefined and interpreted. Its objectivity is no longer passive, but has a certain initiative, and this initiative may be the beginning of resistance. It breaks the inherent framework of kitchen tools through the existence of an alien, and makes people re-understand the relationship between labor, tools and space.
