(Beth Hoeckel / For The Times)
Not everyone may want to encounter a Virgo, but everyone will need to do so at one point or another. No matter how much you might resist their tutelage, or how stubbornly you might deride the sixth sign for the nagging demon of perfectionism that seems to curse their every move with a certain shadow of misery, there will, eventually, be a moment when you’ll wish they were there. Will it be the time your tire goes flat on the 101 in 90-degree heat in the middle of rush hour and your Virgoan passenger swaps it out for the spare with their bare hands and books an appointment with your mechanic for you in under 20 minutes? Or the time you’re blubbering about a breakup and your Virgo friend calmly and rationally reminds you that your ex’s finances were hardly in a state of IRS compliance worthy of long-term partnership, and by the way, it was egregiously apparent that they never flossed? And then there’s that hallowed, holy grail of Los Angeles friendship duties — helping you move — and guess who will be there five minutes early with baked goods from Gjusta for everyone?
In an age and culture where someone’s word is only as air- (or earth-) tight as their integrity allows, the presence of a Virgo can be a blessed reprieve from the flakes and snakes. It’s the attention to detail, of course, the practicality, the methodical way in which they dutifully tackle the most dreaded task with none of the melodrama and all of the levelheadedness — so that they can move on to more important tasks, why else?
Every sign has its needs, and for Virgos, that need is to be useful, to allow the many acts of service to amount to enough (a Virgo is never enough for themselves). Their commitment to the delusion of an unattainable perfection is not only what drives them to succeed, but what actually allows them to do so — which, in the process, shrouds them in gloom, misunderstanding or both. A Virgo is, in this way, just as sensitive as its sister sign, Pisces.
Every sign has its needs, and for Virgos, that need is to be useful, to allow the many acts of service to amount to enough (a Virgo is never enough for themselves).
And so we are led to the Ferm Living brown Pebble Grinder as a sturdy yet delicate talisman of fragile Virgoan vigor. A smooth, fluid silhouette in ash wood represents the intentional, sculptural quality of our virgin constellation. The Pebble Grinder, like many Virgos, is a tool — designed to dutifully break down salt and pepper to add the finishing, functional touch to a culinary work of art. For the Virgo may not be the flavor, but they are the instrument that facilitates the flavor, which might render them just as important (if not more so) than the flavor itself. There is no sensual enjoyment, no time to watch birds play in clouds, no meaningful gaze exchanged between lovers, without the tasks completed and arrangements made to arrive at that point in the first place. Virgos help us with life, so that we can do the things that make us feel alive. Should we not love them for that?
Goth Shakira is a digital conjurer based in Los Angeles.