The Entropy of Embarrassment: Why Time is Cruel (and What Makes a Design Timeless)

A hourglass placed on the tree trunk
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The high-entropy horror: Why time is the cruelest force

Do other countries have graduation albums? Recently, I had dinner with a former classmate whom I hadn’t seen since middle school, and he brought our graduation album. My own copy is long lost, so I saw the pictures for the first time in decades. I was so deeply ashamed of my hairstyle and posing that I instantly wished for death—and for the immediate demise of the classmate who brought the evidence.

I worry that in the future, if graduation albums are stored digitally in the cloud, the ease of sharing will lead to a sharp increase in suicide and murder rates. The flow of time is truly that cruel.

This brings me to the profound concept of time in our industry.

The magic word: Why physicists (and furniture makers) obsess over time

People in the luxury furniture industry seem to love the phrase “timeless design,” and we use it often for our products. To be honest, the word “timeless” is deeply confusing to me because the definition of “time” itself is not settled in physics and philosophy.

Today, I want to discuss timeless design from that high-minded view. Don’t worry, but be careful: I’m absolutely not an expert. I just use complicated concepts to make myself look smarter than I actually am.

In physics, the flow of time is expressed by the change in entropy. This is the magic word that instantly makes you look intelligent. Try replacing “So much time has passed” with, “Entropy has increased significantly.” You might gain respect, or you might just annoy people as a know-it-all, leading to unflattering talk behind your back.

A famous example: Take a set of playing cards ordered from ace to king. If you shuffle them, the entropy of the card set increases. I personally understand it as the degree of un-uniformity, or randomness.

The God’s eye view: Timelessness and low entropy

Some physicists even claim the change in entropy is reversible, suggesting that time doesn’t truly flow (timeless, in a sense). The philosophical explanation is even more intriguing: Some philosophers argue that entropy doesn’t even exist. The randomness of shuffled cards is merely due to the fact that our limited human consciousness cannot perceive the underlying order that exists—an order that can only be seen from God’s perspective.

Based on this logic, we might define timeless-design furniture this way: It is low in entropy, exhibiting a clear, recognizable pattern or rule that customers can easily find.

Unfortunately, this attempt to define design through physics—that timeless design is simply low entropy—doesn’t make much rational sense, even to me. However, it is an interesting exercise. Perhaps timelessness is the design quality that remains low in entropy regardless of the chaotic passing of the years.

I just hope that when you look at our products, you can somehow feel that low-entropy vibe.


I confess that looking at my old school photos makes me wish time were reversible, but since I can’t decrease my own entropy, I’ve dedicated myself to creating furniture that does. At CondeHouse, we strive for ‘timelessness’—a state where design remains so orderly and clear that the chaos of years cannot touch it. Our Hatsune Miku Art Chair is our most ambitious low-entropy experiment. It captures the vibrant turquoise-green energy of a digital icon and anchors it into the timeless patterns of Hokkaido wood. It’s a design so deliberate, so ordered, it feels like it’s viewed from a higher perspective. Now, here is a portal to a world where time stands still: the image below is your link to the special site. If you prefer the messy, high-entropy decay of the ordinary, do NOT click it. But if you’re ready to experience a masterpiece that refuses to age, go ahead. Step into the order. —— The Hatsune Miku Art Chair.


A corporate logo, the letters of C and H are combined to look like a tree in a circle

Shungo Ijima

Global Connector | Reformed Bureaucrat | Professional Over-Thinker

After years of navigating the rigid hallways of Japan’s Ministry of Finance and surviving an MBA, he made a life-changing realization: spreadsheets are soulless, and wood has much better stories to tell.

Currently an Executive at CondeHouse, he travels the world decoding the “hidden DNA” of Japanese culture—though, in his travels, he’s becoming increasingly more skilled at decoding how to find the cheapest hotels than actual cultural mysteries.

He has a peculiar talent for finding deep philosophical meaning in things most people ignore as meaningless (and to be fair, they are often actually meaningless). He doesn’t just sell furniture; he’s on a mission to explain Japan to the world, one intellectually over-analyzed observation at a time. He writes for the curious, the skeptical, and anyone who suspects that a chair might actually be a manifesto in disguise.

Follow his journey as he bridges the gap between high-finance logic and the chaotic art of living!


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