It’s my job, I guess, to have strong feelings about design and aesthetics. When it comes to physical goods, they need to check certain boxes (especially when space is at a premium). Objects must be 1) functional 2) well-built/good quality 3) aesthetically pleasing 4) affordable. These criteria are considered every time I buy or make anything.
Since I’ve started making furniture, I’ve gravitated to mid-century modern and minimalist pieces for inspiration. Most of the work I’m interested in checks (at least) the first three boxes I mentioned above. These pieces feature minimal designs with clean lines and bold colors. They feel approachable and inviting to me, and with a closer look I can usually figure out how they are constructed. One of my favorites is George Nelson’s Swag Leg Desk.
Only once have I seen one of these desks in person. It was about five years ago, and I was helping a friend of a friend clear out an office space. A Nelson desk was there in the corner. It didn’t exist to me before that day, but as time passed I kept thinking about it. A quick internet search of “mid-century modern desk” showed me Nelson’s design in the first few results. Nice. At the time, my desk was a drafting table given to me by a friend, bought from a man who made it for his daughter when she was going away to college. It was a great drafting table—handmade from plywood and pine, finished with shellac, with a simple drawer—but not exactly what I needed. Before that, I had a broken child-sized air hockey table stacked on milk crates. This Nelson desk was something else. For some reason, once I saw it, it was cemented into my brain as ‘the greatest desk of all time.’ Just enough space so I could splay my elbows out while drawing. Not so much space that I would stack stuff on it (hopefully), and no extra drawers to fill up. The small shelf in the back with the dividers might fix all my problems, and those bright colors would surely make me happy. Well, it was no surprise that even the modern reproduced version of the Nelson desk (with the price tag of ‘half of a decent used car’) was out of reach.
In many ways, the ruling class has a monopoly on beauty—or at least their idea of beauty. They pay premium prices for bespoke goods, houses in the best locations, cosmetic surgeries, private islands, etc. Of course, beauty is subjective. While what the ruling class considers beautiful might overlap slightly with what you or I consider beautiful—who doesn’t love an ocean view?—they generally seem interested in gaudy, tacky, ‘luxury items’ and the status that comes from recognizable brand names. Watch any of those real estate TV shows where they sell mansions. It won’t take long for you to get a glimpse inside the biggest, ugliest place you’ve ever seen. We’ve witnessed time and time again that money can’t buy taste…but it can buy raw materials.
So, fast forward to a couple months ago—I couldn’t deal with the makeshift desk I’d been using and decided to construct my own version of the Nelson. Some reused plywood from older studio fixtures and a few pieces from my scrap pile worked for the base, shelf, and colorful dividers. It turned out that I had just enough reclaimed walnut boards to make the sides and back. I made a few changes to the shape of the sides inspired by vintage synthesizer cases, and decided to leave the rough, chiseled texture. A set of hairpin legs some friends gave me hold it all up for the time being. The ‘Nelson Bootleg Desk.’
Time was of the essence here, so I used glue and screws. No real joinery or anything. It’s finished with milk paint, Danish oil, and paste wax, and it has really brightened up my studio. Feels good to be free from buying something by making it instead.