Un Racconto Di Dedar, Illustrato Da Icinori


Illustrated by Icinori, “Minutes” is the pictorial story of Dedar which recounts our various social and everyday activities. The activities we are now having to forego owing to the spread of the virus and consequent social distancing measures. In this way, our company contributes to recounting the historical period we are all living through, by keeping our eyes firmly on the future as we rediscover the beauty in all the things that fill our days with colour and meaning.

The artistic duo has drawn a series of fragments for Dedar: illustrations of scenes from our everyday lives, chosen from the many occasions of socialization and conviviality: a picnic, a car journey, a walk in the mountains or a rock concert.

The illustrations are an invitation to repossess those moments – infinitely precious in their imperfection – by using our creativity and imagination, and to acknowledge their true value today so that we may fully savour them tomorrow.

Every Saturday and Sunday, we will publish the illustrations interpreted by Icinori on the corporate Instagram account @dedarmilano. The story started on April 4 and you may follow it using the hashtag #dedarminutes.

Here below you can read the story behind each illustration:


Perfect happiness? It’s always one peg further up. But whenever you venture out together in the garden, there’s enough to fill a whole lifetime. Smiles, playful banter, good vibes. The sweetest mix — and brimming with vitamins.

Music is the most uncontrollable form of energy, but has no radioactive fallout. It nourishes creativity, thrills our souls—for some, it’s even a way to pay their bills. It may well be “the only truth”, as Kerouac said; but when we dance close to our friends, or to seductive strangers, that sense of fusion we experience is the sweetest deceit of all.

Crowded pavements, electric cars, cycle lanes. Some people actually love traffic. Trucks, blaring horns and bottlenecks are an acquired taste: the kind of things you miss only when they’re gone. But from a window high above the street, someone is watching with rapt attention.

Sandwich? Juice? Slice of pie? Since primitive man first discovered the picnic, the magic ingredient that can’t be missing from your hamper is your best friends. Or your worst ones: as long as chitchat, laughter and flirts flow copiously. From great picnics come great ideas — and sometimes even a great love story.

Ah, meetings. It’s easy to joke about an event where “minutes are kept and hours are lost”. But, as we now know all too well, we’ve always loved them deep down. An eclectic mix of wasted time, drama, office politics and real work. But, when it comes to creating (ideas… beauty… results…), conversation — and clashes — are indispensable. Ten heads are better than one: even when some of them are blockheads!

Explore. Escape. Since humanity first jumped from one continent to another, that instinct to travel has never left us. Trips out of town, hikes in the mountains, city breaks. To find ourselves — or that lovely tavern we discovered last year.

Where are all the runners going in such a hurry? There’s an inexhaustible assortment of souls out there, moving at different speeds on a varying number of paws. They savour the fresh water from a fountain, the breeze, the gathering. Here it is, the “great outdoors”: even if it’s just a city square or park, with the energy of a pleasure consumed collectively.

The first language we learn is the language of touch, and it is the one we speak best all our lives. From the snug space we inhabit before seeing the light of day, to childhood, to maturity (and beyond). Handshakes make the world go round: the ones between two presidents — more intense than normal — or those used to seal less consequential agreements. Embraces, kisses and cuddles are the ABC of our conversation. And in love, there’s no denying the importance of physical contact.
Sure, like words, touch also leaves room for misunderstandings, lies and pronunciation defects. That’s the beauty of language! And during the winter, at the very least, an extra hug means one less jumper to wear.

Where the water from the sea breaches the precise contours of the coast, we could spend hours observing its slow flow. Reflecting on how tranquillity and surprise can combine to break the continuity of a hectic routine; an unexpected passion is able to find its way into an orderly life; a sudden wrong word finds its way into a carefully prepared speech, only to make it better.

At the cinema, the film is the last thing on your mind. What matters is the big screen. The engagement, the people, the seats. And at the end, the closing credits; the lights going back on; a glance that’s worth as much as a review — exchanged by viewing partners, or strangers who have become accomplices for an instant. Then there’s the silent war between the person who wants to read every single line of the credits and the bulky gentleman in the row ahead — who stands up and hangs there motionless, pondering the destinies of the world. We’re happy to queue to catch all of this. Not to mention the fact that, with a chance encounter and an exchange of phone numbers, sometimes the queueing leads to something.

Freed from their own weight and the physical bulk of rolls of film, and reinvented as a telephone, computer and best friend, cameras have become an extension of ourselves: everyone is a Capa or a Mapplethorpe! People who were once (or still are) “real” photographers look at us with a mix of exasperation and bemusement.
But, unperturbed and proud of our new talent, we box one miniature figurine after another into our sacred collection of icons. Or, perhaps, just like the Lilliputians with Gulliver, it’s us who are dealing with a much bigger idol than we think.

From Diogenes to Banksy, we have always been told: don’t become attached to material goods! But our life and the spaces we inhabit are enriched by things. Beautiful, heart-warming and inspiring things, that become truly unique for us. After all, when we choose an object we will grow to love, we do so because of its shape — but once they become ours, it is the objects that shape us.
Like Narcissus, we gaze at our reflection on the surface of the big box of desires: forever on the verge of falling in. The objects we yearn for are the mirror image of our soul.

The atelier is to the office or factory what a poem is to an Excel spreadsheet. It’s a place where our hands become an organ of thought. Whether it’s the workshop producing the world’s most beautiful home fabrics or any other artisanal masterwork, it’s where creativity and craftsmanship become one. Painting, sewing, matching, creating a mood board — it’s all about that fine blend of intuition and physical gestures. In this too, the work of an atelier has much in common with love.

Whoever invented the first wheel gave humankind a huge gift; but the real genius was the inventor of the second wheel. Since that day, whether on a climb or on the flat, we enjoy that sense of freedom and the company, in a perfect balance. It’s a simple, yet intense and accessible joy: riding a bike is like riding a bike — once you’ve learnt it, you’ll never unlearn it.
With a bicycle — and maybe an ice-cream too — we celebrate our joie de vivre: it’s our way of always looking forward in life — even when we’re facing the wrong way.

A temple of fitness — or unfitness (with those poolside cocktails!). A place for relaxing, designer labels and seduction. A swimming pool has a special graphic charm: the lines on the bottom, the unpredictable motion of the splashing water. The dives, a mix of geometry and recklessness. And for those who love a swimming pool without the smell of chlorine and the inconvenience of getting wet (heaven forbid!), there’s always the abstract version: its countless artistic, dry incarnations, ranging from David Hockney’s ‘𝘈 𝘉𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩’ to films with Alain Delon and Jane Birkin — not to mention the many coffee-table books filled with photos of 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭𝘴 in exotic locations. Don’t worry about a towel: just bring the attitude.

A museum is a magical place, where even touchscreen displays find a new meaning. They are sources of inspiration and delight, as long as we engage with them in such a way that serendipity can shape our visit. No checklists to tick off, only corners to discover. Floating Ophelias, apatosaurus models, overpriced installations with or without sharks. Aimless wandering, adrift with no sense of duty and a keen sense of wonder. And may our foundering be sweet in such a sea.

A restaurant is a big house, that welcomes all manifestations and all heresies: Michelin-starred or nightmarish; cheerful taverns or lairs of ruthless molecularists. A collective ritual, its ingeniousness is equal parts tasting and conversation. The handicraft that makes a restaurant unique is a special mix of combinatorial creativity, process, inspiration and choice of ingredients. Like precious yarns intertwining in a magnificent fabric, in the kitchen the value of raw materials comes from both their intrinsic quality and the intuition of the person preparing, combining and weaving them, expertly but above all unpredictably. Rather than following a recipe book to the letter, best just swallow it up!

At a certain altitude, all rules of design go out the window. The uniforms of the flight crew, 50% fashion catwalk and 50% military parade, still offer a hint of style. But the patterns on the average aircraft seat would be banned anywhere else in the world — with the exception of the London Underground. There’s no doubt about it, the Golden Age of flying is over. But even in the 21st century the aircraft hasn’t lost its allure (all the more so now that it’s off limits). For leisure travellers, boarding marks the start of the journey, like an exciting appetiser of their destination. And then there’s always that touch of mystery: how can such a heavy contraption get itself up into the air?

It’s never an abstract, perfect, impalpable beauty. It’s made of material, the coming together of fibres: each one with its own qualities, strong points, as well as vulnerabilities. Softness, resistance, lustre. Even more precious — fraying, exceptions, opacity. The expert work of an artisan weaver consists in bringing together harmony and irregularity, and even errors. Long before the loom, weaving was one of humankind’s first forms of art. Sure, while our forefathers had only the skill of their hands, thousands of years later there was steam power, and now, the precision of digitally-controlled machines. But the game has always involved choosing threads, counting and weaving them. Warp and weft; mind and matter; utility and enchantment. Order and disorder: each giving meaning to the other.