Fashionable Homeowners
Create A Titanium Craze
It was the silvery, sharkskin sheen that attracted Kevin Lester to his newest appliance, a $200 Sony telephone. "I don't know if it's metal or plastic or silver or what -- and I don't really care," says the 42-year-old New York executive recruiter. "It's got a shine that speaks to me."
That must be the titanium talking. Suddenly, it's cropping up everywhere around the home. Genuine titanium -- an ultrastrong lustrous metal once best known for its aeronautical uses -- can now be found in everything from computers to baby strollers. And then there's the proliferation of faux titanium-tinted appliances, such as microwaves, vacuum cleaners and television sets.
A big inspiration for all this: Architect Frank Gehry's Guggenheim Museum Bilbao, Spain. The masterpiece in swirling titanium sent design waves across the Atlantic and into the homes of style fetishists in the U.S. It inspired Manhattan architect Edward Baquero to cloak the exterior of two Soho lofts in 4,600 pounds of the metal last summer (one of the $8 million apartments is getting a 40-foot titanium fireplace to match). Since the Guggenheim's October 1997 debut, tiny titanium distributors like Florida-based Spectore have seen sales quadruple annually. President and founder Eddie Rosenberg, a third-generation jeweler who has championed titanium's aesthetic uses for 25 years, feels vindicated. "Now it's being embraced all around," he says.
Among those who have developed a lust for its luster is Apple Computer. Its new titanium-sheathed laptop, the Macintosh G4, received raves from critics and customers when it was unveiled Jan. 9. If Apple's previous design influence is any indication -- the iMac spawned a host of translucent plastic, bubble-shaped housewares -- titanium is headed for ubiquity. Paint manufacturer Benjamin Moore is now selling Titanium paint. And baby stroller bigwig MacLaren last month introduced a limited-edition titanium stroller that sells for $2,000 and weighs just 12 1/2 pounds.
Industrial designers have long prized the metal's subtly warm, refractive cast and, especially, its formidable strength-to-weight ratio. The current titanium craze, however, is about style, not substance. "More than anything else, titanium works well with the minimal, pure aesthetic that's in right now," says Eric Ludlum, creative director of New York-based Core 77, which tracks trends in interior design and housewares.
But with high-end preparations of the real thing costing up to $2,000 per pound, many style-mongers may decide to make do with titanium-tinted plastic. And they just might be better off: The Bilbao Guggenheim's facade already is covered with brown splotches and in need of a good cleaning. Indeed, titanium's very sleekness makes it particularly prone to unsightly smudges and streaks. It may not tarnish, but, as Mr. Rosenberg notes, "that doesn't mean you don't have to take care of it."
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