Black is the color of a strangled rainbow.
When Apple announced the original iMac, our designer asked, ‘Why would anyone want a VT100 made out of colored plastic on their desk?’ Here at Eastgate, we’d predicted a very different product and expected the new machine would prove a debacle. We were completely wrong. A few weeks later, I spent a day visiting art galleries on Santa Fe’s Canyon Road, and the most prosperous galleries all had colorful new iMacs atop their stylish desks. Some of those desks were 17th-century hand-carved Spanish heirlooms, some were spectacular steel-and-wood fantasies of contemporary crafts, but on all of them stood Bondi Blue iMacs shaped just like that long-obsolete dumb terminal.
The galleries weren’t responding to the retro tech allusion: they responded to the iMac because it was different. It was designed. Someone had thought about it—it wasn’t just another beige box. It didn’t matter that the old beige box might have been better, in some ways; the iMac was trying to do what the old package didn’t, and you could sense a personality and a vision behind that attempt.
The Tinderbox Way