Waaierdoos van karton beplakt met grijs/beige papier c. 1950 - 1970

Curator: Immediately I feel transported back to my grandmother’s attic—a quiet, unassuming stillness about it. Like secrets are carefully kept inside. Editor: Exactly the sense of understated practicality I get! The Rijksmuseum holds this fan box made of cardboard covered with a neutral, grayish-beige paper. Its origins trace back to somewhere between 1950 and 1970. Not glamorous, but quietly functional. Curator: "Quietly functional" undersells the artistry a touch, doesn't it? It's not merely cardboard; there's a real intentionality in the choice of texture. The weave of the paper covering suggests fabric, lending it a subtle tactile allure. What a transformation of humble materials! Editor: That transformation elevates the everyday, certainly. What fascinates me is how this seemingly simple object speaks volumes about the popularization of consumer goods during that era, particularly within domestic spaces. Cardboard, mass production… the quiet democratization of beauty, in a way. Curator: I agree it’s about availability – accessible elegance for all. Think about the careful selection of color; it soothes, blending seamlessly into a boudoir without demanding attention. It almost whispers elegance. The fan nestled inside would become something truly special in contrast to its container. Editor: And that whisper tells of shifts in cultural values, doesn't it? How items for personal care and adornment became more readily available, altering social rituals and presentations. The very act of concealing the fan suggests a subtle sense of personal refinement accessible to an expanding middle class. Curator: So, it's an ode to accessibility draped in modesty, I like it! Imagine the stories it could tell of stifled giggles, whispered secrets behind feathered fans on warm summer nights. Not bad for something made of cardboard, wouldn’t you say? Editor: A box that unfolds to reveal the material and social histories of an era – absolutely. It demonstrates that even the simplest things can hold compelling narratives about taste, accessibility, and the subtle ways we express ourselves.