Panthella Mini

Verner Panton for Louis Poulsen – “Panthella Mini” Table Lamp, c.1971, Photographed in Home Office

Verner Panton for Louis Poulsen – “Panthella Mini” Table Lamp, c.1971, Photographed in Home Office

I’ve never been a lamp person—until now that is. Consider me officially converted from the dark side (because . . . you know . . . light). I’m sure you’ve already come across images of this iconic lamp circulating with increasing frequency online, so allow me to add to the growing basis of its popularity. As you can see, the mushroom-style shade sits atop a centrally tapered neck with a circularly splayed base. What is so interesting and unique to me about its architecture is that I cannot quite place it in a singular aesthetic context, which is to ultimately say I find the design paradoxical: evocatively futuristic and nostalgically retro at the same time. Let me tell you, it is such a pleasurable sensory experience gliding a cloth over its sharp edges, rounded curvatures, and glossy, domed contour every week when I dust . . . I can express this so sensually because I do, in fact, have a boyfriend (who isn’t a lamp).

Newly Unboxed Panthella Mini, White Opal Acrylic Finish, Photographed on Bed

Newly Unboxed Panthella Mini, White Opal Acrylic Finish, Photographed on Bed

I opted for the original opal acrylic finish because I loved Panton’s idea of having both the foot and shade reflecting light. This way, the size of the lamp was less of an important consideration because the light was to supposedly emanate in all directions, not just downwards, and I was able to avoid breaking the bank by going for the cuter “mini” version. And it’s true! On its brightest setting, the lamp more than adequately illuminates the room with a glow that can only be described as heavenly ambient. In fact, I’ve not switched on the ceiling light in my bedroom for weeks, preferring to rely solely on the ample lamp light provided instead. In line with Louis Poulsen’s philosophy is the belief that the shadow is as important of an aesthetic as the lighting. It is, therefore, no surprise that these two elements are expertly unified and balanced in the lamp’s construction and together manifest a truly emotional display (if you’re like me and are spiritually moved by inanimate objects).

Funnily, the more interested I become in interior design, the more I notice certain design pieces on film sets. They suddenly pop out and scream at me when they wouldn’t have before. Just the other night I was watching Morning Glory and guess what I instantly spied on Rachel McAdams’ living room accent table? None other than the Panthella Table Lamp in all her glory. Well, I thought to myself. If I can’t have her hair, her face, her everything, at least we can share a lamp! What’s also hilarious is the unintended side effect of my deepening appreciation for interior design: its internalization by the people around me. Last month, my mother sent me a text one night out of the blue that read “Now I notice” accompanied by a laughing emoji and a close-up photo she took of her TV, on which was a paused scene from 20th Century Women. In the corner of the shot was, of course, a Panthella poised on top of a night table. It is highly amusing for me—and now for her, too—spotting these little Easter eggs, which to the untrained eye would just look like, well, regular eggs.

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