More so than ever before, we're known by the possessions we keep. Our things define us, simplicity movement or no simplicity movement. The connection is most clearly spelled in our choice of books, art, and CDs because they directly link to our subjective tastes, to what we think of as our sensibilities.

What we don't always realize, though, is that our chairs, lamps, cereal bowls, vases, toasters, and shower curtains also signal what we're about to those who care to know. Ordinary items all, they become extraordinary when viewed as the external expression of our internal selves. For that, they carry a lot of weight.

The thing about these things is, they are all designed objects. They're part of the "built environment." Someone put thought into the packaging of your toothpaste and someone else carefully considered the swoop of your sofa back. And when you bring these things into your home, you're--to a lesser or greater degree--making an aesthetic decision.

That's the relevance of design. If we're to surround ourselves with things, why not make them lovely, pleasurable, different, striking? It's why, finally, office chairs for the home are adapting new and different forms, why computers are suddenly available in magical colors, why contemporary crafts have exploded, making functional art such as handmade baskets and ceramic teapots as affordable as everyday mass-produced ones.

It's why we now offer the final 10 of our 20 design icons of the twentieth century, as chosen by a sampling of museum curators, design instructors, and auctioneers. (See Part I for the first 10.) Taken together, these 20 items present a picture of what design has meant through the century--and how it has changed.

And because we couldn't resist a less conventional list, we're also including the selections of the Museum of Modern Art Curator, Paola Antonelli.

Beth Vilinsky, head of twentieth-century design for Christie's East, New York
Cindi Strauss, assistant curator for decorative arts, Museum of Fine Art, Houston
Rosalyn Cama, director Cama, Inc., and recent past president of the American Society of Interior Designers
Ulysses Bietz, curator of decorative arts, Newark (NJ) Museum
Ellen Lupton, instructor, Maryland Art Institute
R. Craig Miller, curator, Department of Architecture, Design & Graphics, Denver Art Museum.
Usha Subramanian, founder, icon20.com
Ken Trapp, curator, Renwick Gallery, Washington, D.C
Peter Stathisy, 3D-Design Department at Cranbrook Academy

Beth Vilinsky, head of twentieth century design for Christie's East, New York.
"When I think of a single piece of design that can be termed an icon, I think of something that appeared strikingly different at the time it was introduced, yet remains contemporary today," says Vilinsky. "One of the people whose work instantly comes to mind in that context is Isamu Noguchi. What I really love about his furniture is that there's so little distinction between the applied art and the fine art--in his case, sculpture."

Noguchi's coffee table from 1947 is one of the most recognizable furnishings of the twentieth century, and one that "helped shaped the landscape of the mid-century home environment," says Vilinsky. Featuring a rounded triangle glass top resting on an abstract bone-like base, the table offers the biomorphism of the period served with the extra punch that comes courtesy of knowing the work is the creation of one of our finest contemporary artists.

Cindi Strauss, assistant curator for decorative arts, Museum of Fine Art, Houston.
"People today are very aware of how contemporary design is influenced by the past, by the 1930s here, the 1950s there, and I think that's due to the proliferation of shelter magazines, as well as the contributions of design-conscious mass marketers like Pottery Barn and Crate and Barrel," says Strauss.

That we're much more aware of design in our everyday lives is a relatively new phenomenon. "What we put on our table, for example, is important and functional, but ordinary Americans haven't always viewed it as a design concern," she says. "When Russel Wright created his 'American Modern' dinnerware line for Steubenville Pottery in 1937, however, he spawned a modern era that saw dozens of firms creating modern shapes and patterns and glazes.

That became an early example of a designer working with a manufacturer to create everyday items that were artistic, but easily obtainable and affordable. Available in dusky shades and sinuous organic forms, the tableware offered American hostesses a sophisticated range of dinnerware from which to mix and match--a new concept at the time. The lineage from there to Pottery Barn is quite clear and direct.

Rosalyn Cama, director Cama, Inc., and recent past president of the American Society of Interior Designers.
"When I think of design and its relevance both in the past and for today, I think of the advances that certain gadgets have brought to us," says Cama. "And then, of course, I have to consider which ones of those are designed in an architecturally appealing way--with good materials, good proportion, proper functionality, and a sense of fun."

Which adds up to, says Cama, the pioneering work of the German manufacturer of small appliances, Braun. Founded in 1921, the company didn't begin pushing the outside edge of the design envelope until the early 1950s when it introduced electronic flash units, electric shavers and kitchen appliances that emphasized geometric minimalism and ergonomic touches. "Its coffee maker comes most immediately to mind," says Cama, "and that form is still evident in today's versions. But so much of what Braun did was dominant and it was a major reason why in the '50s, '60s and '70s, product design was all about the Germans."

Ulysses Bietz, curator of decorative arts, Newark Museum.
"When we think about the design of everyday things, there's always a dichotomy between trying to be different from the Jones, while we try to keep up with them," laughs Bietz. He cites 1920s silversmith Georg Jensen--the quintessential Danish modernist--as a good example. "The 1925 ice pitcher, designed for the company by Johan Rohde, for instance, looks incredibly modern--with a pared-down, organic form--yet it's classic hollowware. It's the kind of modern that Americans were comfortable with, odd but at the same time familiar."

From the turn-of-the-century through the 1930s, Jensen's workshops produced high-quality silver tea and coffee sets, candlesticks, tureens, and other items that were always intended for a luxury market. Although many of the pieces illustrate a strict lineage back to the silversmithing of Paul Revere, much of Jensen's work was considered revolutionary in other ways. As with all good revolutionaries, the legacy lingers today--some of the work is still in production.

Like many, Bietz was hard-pressed to select just one icon. His second choice, the Paris Metro Entrances, deserves special mention here, though, because for many they are the most iconic of all Art Nouveau works. "Designed in the early 1900s by Hector Guimard, these subtle and beautiful entrances have become not only a symbol of Art Nouveau, but one of the things that telegraph 'Paris'," comments Bietz.

Like his contemporary, Antoni Gaudi of Barcelona, Guimard applied his florid signature to furniture, interiors, and architectural elements like gates and lighting fixtures. Dripping with adornment and carvings, these sensuous pieces take all that is Art Nouveau--a fascination with nature-inspired motifs, a love of curves, a rapture with ornament--and render them in a delicate, graceful fashion. The result: a perpetual opportunity for camera-toting, smitten tourists.

Ellen Lupton, instructor, Maryland Art Institute.
"Women have played a great, but often unsung, role in design throughout the century and if I had to choose just the work of one woman to highlight it'd be Eileen Gray's folding screens," says Lupton. "They were truly innovative during the 1920s and 1930s, and represented a total re-thinking of the genre of screens, making them something that weren't fixed."

Gray, who was famous and sought-after in her time, often turned to screens to articulate her interests in, at various times, lacquer work, Cubism, and geometric forms. Her free-standing screens set pivoting white- or black-lacquered wood blocks on rods in lattice-work patterns, resulting in groovy undulating forms that placed the object squarely in the realm of an interior design element (room divider) and not a functional one (privacy provider).

R. Craig Miller, curator, Department of Architecture, Design & Graphics, Denver Art Museum.
"One of the most important developments in the last quarter of the twentieth century has been 'Post-Modernism'," says Miller. "If I had to choose just one piece from this era, it'd be Ettore Sottsass' Tartar Table from 1985. Sottsass exerted an enormous influence on this movement and on design in the 1970s and 1980s, and this is one of his best pieces."

Wildly exuberant in color and throbbing with multiple patterns, the table was one of Sottsass' first three-dimensional designs for the Italian manufacturer, Memphis. A child of Modernism --born in 1917--Sottsass became an early and articulate critic of the less-is-more school. Whether doing this through the playful crimson typewriters and yellow secretary's chairs he created for Italian manufacturer, Olivetti, or via his kitschy pop-inspired contributions to Memphis, Sottsass helped put the fun back into design.

Usha Subramanian, founder, icon20.com, a web resource for twentieth century design.
"We may all be becoming a lot more conscious of design, but first and foremost we expect the things we use as everyday objects to be enduring and strong," says Subramanian. "That's why I really love architect Frank Gehry's corrugated cardboard chair. It's a great icon of the late 1970s and early 1980s when modern design was going through another period of experimentation, thanks to the influence of the Italians.

"People were amazed at what they were doing with plastic and styrofoam and rubber," she continues, "and then along comes Gehry with cardboard. It was an ingenious design that bound layers and layers of paper together in this crazy ribbon effect so that it could stand human weight. It was a brilliant example of sculptural furniture that was actually functional...and affordable." These days, America's most imaginative architect fancies another material-- titanium--but his way with form and his boundless enthusiasm for experimentation haven't diminished one bit.

Ken Trapp, curator, Renwick Gallery, Washington, D.C..
"Industrial designer Raymond Loewy definitely belongs on this list," says Trapp. "He's the closest thing to a household name in the field, and created so many singular works. One of the best is the Studebaker Avanti, which is the prototypical streamlined Loewy design. It was exciting and beautiful, but without being overwrought." Loewy's 1961, European-inspired attempt to put some zip into Studebaker's stodgy image ultimately failed in its mission. But its sharp, distinctive lines still draw appreciative glances today, out-concepting all but the most outre concept cars.

Peter Stathis, chair, 3D-Design Department at Cranbrook Academy.
"I might look at Loewy and others and say that the design profession itself is the single most important creation of twentieth century design," says Stathis, appropriately putting a post-modern spin on the question.

As we lurch toward the century's end, he may be right. Designers have come out from under cover of manufacturers, bravely putting their names on everything from toasters to toothbrushes (see Michael Graves and Philippe Starck). If Americans are indeed more design-conscious than ever before, it's to this new breed of craftsperson that we owe our thanks. Let's see what they have in store for us in the twenty-first century.

JoANN GRECO writes frequently on design from her home in Philadelphia, using an iMac. She's had her eye on another icon, though: a snappy, yellow VW Bug.