Patrick Pierazzoli: What could have been
As a brand, Nike has one of, if not the most recognizable logo ever created. Long before the Swoosh became a global icon, and before Nike was Nike itself, Phil Knight and Bill Bowerman were still working as Blue Ribbon Sports. For business reasons, a name change became necessary, and Knight almost named the company Dimension Six or Falcon before Jeff Johnson, the company’s first full-time employee, suggested Nike, the Greek goddess of victory, . The rest is, as they say, history. The question of what might have been if the decision had been made differently, is now answered by Nike with the “Classic Cortez Shoe Dog Pack” (named after Phil Knight’s autobiography “Dog Pack”), two special edition Cortez models that ultimately never became Dimension Six or Falcon, as well as a pair with the original, narrow Swoosh. You can buy the nostalgic sneakers for 120 dollars at www.nike.com/launch. If you can decide on one .
Marina Warth: No Excuse
“I can’t take any more,” sighs my friend and throws the rake to one side. I shake my head. “Keep going.” After all, it’s her garden that we’re turning from a bore into a rock star in eight hours. It’s not the first time and it certainly won’t be the last. Why do I keep kneeling in the soil, spreading fertilizer, mowing the lawn and planting flower bulbs? Because of the workout, which is more enjoyable in the fresh air than in a stuffy gym. Because of the excitement of the sprouting plants that shoot up a little more every day until the ground-level bed has become a small jungle. And indeed, because that’s what friends do. Because they help each other, in the past with heartache, today with the wedding, back then with homework and these days with the garden. Let each other down? Giving up? No such thing. Neither in gardening, nor in life. So that she doesn’t forget that either, the friend with the green paradise, this gnome (Ottmar Hörl, “Sponti Gartenzwerg”, 37 x 15.5 x 12.5 cm, approx. 80.-) now stands by her bed, giving the finger to all those who doubt their friendship.
Marco Rüegg: Mumbai Madness
So Shiva the Creator collects all the madness of the earth, plants it on a spit of land in the Arabian Sea and shapes it with his blue fingers into a bubbling potpourri, soon to be populated by 19 million people and countless other creatures. Utopia? No, a reality called Mumbai. Mumbai is heaven, Mumbai is hell, and there is usually only a street width in between. In the cinema, Ritesh Batra’s “Photograph” is currently painting a gently kitschy picture of the city. In contrast, “No Buddah in Suburbia” , the 168-page photo book by Peter Bialobrezski (Hartmann Books, approx. 34.-), takes a merciless look at the partially globalized face of a schizophrenic megalopolis. Disturbing. Hypnotic. Mumbai, that is.
