Form does not follow Function

But this is not the case. Form and function are two separate matters, and very often the designer will alter the form to enhance or obscure the actual functionality in order to improve the marketability of the product.

The classic example can be found among the old Jaguar automobiles which included sophisticated styling lines and a reputation for currying to those with expensive tastes through elegantly hand-carved wooden interiors and other creature comforts. But until recently Jaguars were some of the most mechanically unsophisticated and unreliable abominations on the road. Yet few besides the Jaguar mechanics and the duped owners understood this sad reality, and because of the image surrounding the cars, nobody seemed willing to challenge the unspoken deception.

Through examples like this I have come to see design as myth-making and story-telling as much as anything practical. Sometimes the outward story is also the inward the truth. A spacesuit, for example, functions every bit the same way as it appears to function, and its fashion and styling is almost entirely secondary. Nobody in a spacesuit gives damn much beyond whether or not the temperature is right and the air is breathable.

On the other hand sometimes the story is a fiction (or quasi-fiction) -- such as an expensive evening gown purchased and worn on a cold winter night by an aging matron. The dress is almost entirely a matter of fashion, and its primary function is to enhance what is still worth enhancing by carefully embellishing what should not be overtly disclosed. Or another example... a Furby appears to be a cuddly toy animal, but in reality it is a miniature robot.

In this way design occupies a zone between revelation and disguise -- a means for saying what the designer wishes to say or a way to conceal what the designer wishes not to reveal.

One last example...

An obese street urchin, unshaven and mumbling to himself, rides the New York City subway system unmolested each day as he is left to sit alone by repulsed city-dwellers. The design is perfect, for in reality, the urchin is a slender courier moving vast amounts of cash at a healthy commission. On the outside he is a mess. But on the inside, he a master designer who has learned how to achieve his intended goal through a complete disconnect between form and function.