Form obliterates function

The reigning chic in kitchens seems to be large stainless steel panels. That's OK, I like the look myself. But what happens when the tyranny of cool won't accommodate a blemish? You get an appliance that is very annoying to use.

Look at the beautiful, sleek, clean, and simple front panel to a KitchenAid dishwasher - marred only by the brand name (of course) and (heaven forbid a useful visible object) a handle - and ask yourself the question: "Is it on?"

I answer that question routinely, by accidentally opening the machine up in the middle of a cycle and uttering a string of unmentionables.

To start the dishwasher one opens the door, pushes the start button on the control panel that is only visible when open, and closes the door.

Is it on? How soon will it be done? The best you can do is bend to the height of dishwasher and look for LED lights in the 1 inch gap between the top of the door and the underside of the counter. Information that should be instantaneously conveyed requires body contortions and the interpretation of lights whose labels are, at that angle, invisible.

Many years ago I visited a trendy Manhattan night spot. I've long forgotten the name but not the bathroom, which was the height of hip. Everything was hidden - urinals, the doors to stalls, spigots (this was long before hands-free faucets). It may have been a beautiful, stylish room but what is the most important thing about a bathroom?

"USING THE BATHROOM" or possibly "USING THE BATHROOM"

Solving puzzles is not what you want to be doing when feeling the call of nature.

Staring at a blank door is not what you want to be doing when wondering if your dishwasher is still running.