My car doesn't need leather seats, carbon fibre, or chrome bumpers. My watch doesn't need numbers as well as hour markers. My seafood dinner doesn't need the mi

My car doesn't need leather seats, carbon fibre, or chrome bumpers. My watch doesn't need numbers as well as hour markers. My seafood dinner doesn't need the milk crisp arranging like a sail. My jeans don't need rivets. My pen pot doesn't need to be wrapped in leather. I don't need wood panelling on the walls. I could live in a sterile utilitarian whiteness, where the only things that exist have a purpose. Some people do. I prefer plants, and colours, and textures, and art on the wall. I like knobs on my virtual synthesiser. I like pages in my e-book. If I had an app where I could clip together a series of documents, I'd rather it displayed this with a binder clip than a message or an abstract icon. Extreme minimalism is, and has always been, soulless imho. Even the Farnsworth House used woodgrain and leather, curtains act as fabric wallhangings, textured concrete is prominently featured. Falling Water is practically a skeuomorphic paradise.