Design Isn’t About Money, It’s About Meaning
Crafting Purposeful Experiences Beyond the Price Tag
Let’s be honest, when you hear the word “designer,” your brain probably starts conjuring up images of Gucci loafers, Balenciaga handbags, or (heaven help us) Philipp Plein’s glittery monstrosities. At some point, “designer” became shorthand for “needlessly expensive”. It’s the kind of word that gets attached to objects seemingly designed to drain your wallet rather than improve your life. And yet, we’re all guilty. Who hasn’t stared at a wildly overpriced chair and thought, Maybe I do need this? Case in point: I just dropped £500 on a Carl Hansen dining chair. The internal tug of war between desire and reason is the stage upon which modern design battles play out.
The myth that great design requires a ridiculous price tag is as laughable as it is pervasive. This isn’t an anti luxury screed, it’s a plea to rethink what we value. Real design isn’t about flaunting status. It’s about solving problems, creating beauty, and improving lives. At its core, design isn’t about money - it’s about meaning.
Design Democracy: Bauhaus, Eichler, and the People
Here’s the thing about design: it wasn’t always about exclusivity. Look at Bauhaus. Those students didn’t set out to create objects for the elite; they aimed to design for everyone. They stripped away the frills (sigh), focusing on clean lines and functional forms. Their mantra was simple: design should serve society. In an ironic twist of fate, it’s this same philosophy of inclusivity that got them run out of Nazi Germany, but their legacy endured - proof that great design can be inclusive.
Joseph Eichler carried that torch into mid-century America, building homes that married style with affordability. Open floor plans, post and beam construction, and a seamless indoor outdoor flow - these weren’t homes for showrooms; they were homes for living.
From Bauhaus to Eichler, the message was clear: design should enhance life, not exclude people. Scandinavian designers followed suit, blending simplicity, functionality, and beauty. The Egg Chair by Arne Jacobsen? Timeless. Alvar Aalto’s architecture? Grounded yet transcendent. Even Shaker furniture, born of a religious devotion to simplicity, radiates this ethos.
Later, Dieter Rams distilled it into his famous “less but better” philosophy. His work with Braun - those elegant radios and shavers - was so influential it shaped Apple’s design DNA. Rams showed that good design didn’t need to scream luxury; it needed to whisper clarity.
The Problem with Pricey Design: Logos Over Logic
And yet, somewhere along the line, we lost the plot. These days, expensive doesn’t mean better, it just means branded. Luxury has become a kind of tax on people too lazy to search for alternatives. Balenciaga’s IKEA inspired bag or mass produced furniture masquerading as artisanal treasures are proof that branding often trumps logic. These aren’t design triumphs; they’re marketing stunts.
Contrast that with the iPod. Jobs and Ive, channeling Dieter Rams, created something that wasn’t just beautiful, it was intuitive. You didn’t buy it to show off, you bought it because it worked - and it worked perfectly. That’s the kind of design that stays with you. It’s not about shouting “look at me”, it’s about quietly solving problems and making life better.
What Does It Take to Design Well?
Good design doesn’t have to be loud. It doesn’t have to be expensive. It just has to be good. Dieter Rams nailed it: “Less but better.” It’s about simplicity, functionality, and timelessness. Think Mondaine. Think Muji. Think Japan’s meticulous practicality, where even a simple teapot becomes a masterpiece of design.
But design isn’t just about objects - it’s about mindset. It’s about approaching life with thoughtfulness, stripping away the unnecessary, and focusing on what really matters. The best design reflects a life well lived: purposeful, intentional, and enduring.
And maybe that’s the ultimate takeaway. Good design isn’t about flexing wealth, it’s about creating meaning. It’s about living well. And isn’t that worth striving for?