Behind My Mess

“Whenever it exposes its inner contents, the subtle scent that tickles my nose reminds me of the mess I brought to this world and the passing of time.”

By Bo Kim

To exist is to produce trash. I would be a mess without my trash can. When moving into a new home, I must get a mattress and a trash can first. It doesn’t take long for the mess to accumulate, and contaminate my surroundings with its unwanted presence. Thus, a wardrobe and coffee table will have to wait until the essential matters are in order.

There was a time when I didn’t bother to invest in a proper trash can. Instead, I hung a plain plastic bag on the knob of my kitchen cabinet, printed with “Thank you” in all caps. I would watch as it grew full and heavy, until it could no longer hold everything. Then I would throw it out and replace it with a new bag from the grocery store. Eventually, I graduated from this negligent practice and got a lidless plastic bin from Target. My mess was finally given a designated home.

The upgrade was sufficient — until the pandemic. Since I was spending more time at home, I was proportionally creating more trash, which resulted in more frequent interactions with the trash can. It was about time to retire the lidless plastic bin and get a fully functional trash can.

In 2021, I welcomed the Brabantia Newicon trash can into my household. The Newicon model is cylindrical with a sleek matte surface. It comes in various colors, some unconventional, such as deep green and salmon pink, but I went with a rather classic choice: black. This new trash can had a notable impact on my trash-life balance, and the biggest contributing factor is its lid. The design detail that I especially adore is the sound of the lid. The lid doesn’t rush in closing; when I step on the pedal to open the bin, the opening feels immediate, but when the lid returns to its original position, it eases in and makes only a minimal sound. No big deal, just a quiet “tap.”

The trash can knows more about me than anyone — that I munched a pack of Kisses chocolates, that I spent my Friday evening drinking a bottle of beer alone while feeling sentimental, and that these behaviors were precursors to the first day of my period. Yet the trash can keeps its lips sealed. It does not reveal until I ask it to. It remains virtuous and gracefully completes its task upon my periodic requests. Whenever it exposes its inner contents, the subtle scent that tickles my nose reminds me of the mess I brought to this world and the passing of time. But once the lid returns to its original position, I am able to resume my restless life and let the trash can take care of my disposal.

Although modern sewage systems have allowed humanity to effectively discard waste, the collection and disposal of trash remain manual tasks. Perhaps a novel engineering solution may one day replace the need for trash cans, but I must pay tribute to well-crafted trash cans for their art in keeping our sh*t together; for being reliable anchors in our households; for giving me the right to forget about what I had to throw away and move on.

This piece was written as part of the SVA Design Writing & Research Online Summer Intensive 2023. Learn more at designresearch.sva.edu.