In recent years, totems of fashionable taste have cycled out, as they tend to do. Terrazzo coasters and breasted pottery have receded from the fore; Petra Collins’s GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS pink neon signs, once everywhere, have all but disappeared entirely. But even as all the rest of the rosy lights have started to fade, there is one that prevails: the Ultrafragola mirror. As I watched Emma Chamberlain tour her Los Angeles residence, I spotted a familiar wavy form as she weaves through the ’70s-inflected space. There was the Ultrafragola mirror in all its glory, and I thought, Still?
Throughout the last decade, it’s seemed like every third profile of a home in any given design magazine has had one beaming from the corner. Originally designed by Ettore Sottsass in 1970 and exclusively produced today by Poltronova, the Ultrafragola mirror has been spotted in the homes of Bella Hadid, Lena Dunham, Elsa Hosk, Nicholas Ghesquire, Frank Ocean, the Pope (just kidding)… God, I could go on. This mirror, with its many ripples, has had quite an effect, to the point where there are countless replicas and “dupes” strewn across the online market hocked by retailers anxious to meet the frenzied demand the mirror has generated. So, what’s the story behind the mirror that has launched a thousand reproductions?
The Ultrafragola mirror came to us all the way from Milan, where it debuted at the Eurodomus exhibition as part of I Mobili Grigi, a bedroom set that Sottsass designed for Poltronova. I recently spoke to Roberta Meloni, CEO of Poltronova, about the history of the mirror and how, contrary to the present where it is regarded as a status symbol, it was not initially received very well. “Abitare, one of the most important Italian magazines at that time, did an article in which it defined these projects as awful, horrible,” she recalls. In the decades to follow, the mirror was not appreciated, and Poltronova only sold a few. Roberta attributes this to the fact that Sottsass was misunderstood by his peers and the middle-class market at large. (The best of art and design can be prophetic, sometimes in a way that is incomprehensible to contemporary audiences.)
Sottsass’s sensual, fun, and exciting designs were a drastic departure from the functionalist orthodoxy he was trained on in school. This sensibility is evident in the mirror, which is, well, unmistakably yonic—and that was no accident. Keith Johnson, CEO of Urban Architecture, the first importer of Memphis furniture in the U.S., and a close friend of Sottsass for many years, fondly remembers the designer as a romantic intellectual with the creative vision of a 19th century poet. Far ahead of its time, the misunderstood masterpiece embraced femininity through a new lens that challenged viewers to soften their gaze.
It took until the 2010s, decades after it was released, for the mirror’s seductive appeal to take full effect, and now consumers are horny for it. I vividly remember noticing the Ultrafragola mirror for the first time while shopping at Opening Ceremony back in 2015 and immediately feeling enchanted by it. There was something that felt so deeply correct about the design, and, evidently, others felt the same way. From there, the mirror appeared at major retailers like Nordstrom (this time thanks to their senior vice president of creative merchandising, Olivia Kim), which then spawned a contagion effect that would infect Instagram feeds for years to come. As the interior designer Sasha Bikoff once told AD, “It’s the ultimate selfie mirror.”
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At present, demand is still rising. According to 1stDibs, searches for the term Ultrafragola have increased by 145% year over year. Poltronova and Urban Architecture have reported steadily rising sales growth as well. Anthony Barzilay Freund, editorial director and director of fine art at 1stDibs, attributes the still-growing demand for the mirror to the fact that it is “the perfect frame” for a selfie-inclined culture.
Of course, there will always be the impulse to replicate things of great beauty, often to ill effect. The fanaticism around this iconic mirror has driven the desire for it to be rendered in other colors and materials. Prefer purple neon or teak wood? Head over to Etsy or Alibaba. The authentic mirrors from Poltronova usually have a price point of $11,000, which is certainly unattainable for most design enthusiasts like me. While there are reasonably convincing reproductions that can now be purchased for around $2,000 from places like Eternity Modern (their version is smaller than the original), we always stand by authenticity.
Poltronova cites certain differences to distinguish the original from the dupes, such as the particular shade of neon pale pink and how the mirror’s waves are often too symmetrical in comparison to the irregularity of the Ultrafragola. Poltronova has had success with shutting down replicas in Europe, but due to differences in design laws around the world, it’s taking longer to crack down on production in other countries.
These days, seeing the derivative versions of the mirror in the background of someone’s home on Instagram or TikTok is almost a mundane occurrence, but the real mirror, when experienced in full, is anything but. To remind myself, I recently stood before one in the Nordstrom flagship in Manhattan and was immediately reminded of what makes the mirror so special. Standing in the glow of an Ultrafragola mirror is a transcendent experience; all imperfections are melted away as the onlooker is anointed by the light. Suddenly, you are idealized, staring back at the person you’ve always aspired to be.
In a newsletter that Poltronova ran during the pandemic, Elisabetta Trincherini wrote, “When not shamefaced and relegated to bare functionalism, the mirror is the most evocative of all household furnishings. For Umberto Eco it is a ‘threshold-phenomenon’ and for Lewis Carrol a ‘bridge-object’ that leads to the wonderland beyond it.” On these grounds, the Ultrafragola mirror is incredibly successful: It converts the banal ritual of peering at oneself into an appointment with the sublime, and really, who could say no to that.
