When machines do the making and everything is sleek, seamless, and suspiciously perfect, it stops feeling impressive. A human didn’t touch that. Or if they did, not in a way that feels tangible. That used-to-wow sense of modernity (I think of the actual edge precision had circa 1970) has blunted. Perfection is everywhere. And frankly, it’s a little boring.
Which is, perhaps, why we’ve swung back toward the imperfect. Raw edges, rough casting, asymmetry on purpose. We’re craving objects that feel touched — flawed in all the best ways.
