The independent earbuds that challenge tech minimalism: an angel and a devil in your ears.

A white cherub in one ear. A horned devil with a tail in the other. Duality takes one of popular culture’s most deeply rooted images literally: the two voices arguing on our shoulders are moved to the exact point from which they can enter our heads. “Everyone already has a little angel and devil arguing on their shoulders,” designer Elias James McCalip tells Domus. “So why not put them where the voice actually comes from?”

The two wired earphones did not emerge from the research and development departments of Apple, Samsung, or another tech giant. They are an independent, self-funded project born from McCalip’s interest in old art and architecture books, and in the figures that have inhabited churches and museums for centuries. Cherubs and gargoyles became the starting point for giving a recognizable body back to one of everyday technology’s most anonymous objects: wired earphones, which have recently made a major comeback.

McCalip did not explore dozens of alternatives. Instead, he spent a long time interrogating the original idea, asking himself “whether it held up, whether it was clever or just cute.” The risk was turning an archetypal image into a simple gadget. “The real work was making sure the execution honored imagery that was already so iconic and instantly recognizable, without making it feel like a gimmick sitting in your ear.”

In recent years, wireless earbuds have become one of the most popular categories of consumer technology. Their forms are essential, often to the point of making one brand almost indistinguishable from another: small white or black pods with smooth, nearly interchangeable shapes. AirPods, which effectively established this product category, imposed its most recognizable code: devices designed to integrate into everyday life until they almost disappear. “Wireless earbuds have optimized themselves into invisibility,” McCalip says. And along with their physical presence, he argues, they have also lost the ability to express personality.

Duality is not an isolated case. A few months ago, Diesel transformed a pair of wired earphones into a conspicuous chain covered in charms, closer to a piece of punk jewelry than a conventional audio product. In that case too, the wire became the object’s most visible element rather than something to conceal – a provocation after years of technology designed to disappear.

Elias James McCalip

The problem, however, is not necessarily minimalism itself. It is its transformation into the only possible grammar of consumer electronics. Mauro Porcini, President and Chief Design Officer of Samsung – one of the tech giants that helped establish minimalism as a global aesthetic – explained it to Domus: “If you want a minimalist object, it is right that you should be able to buy one.” His position is instead “a reaction to the lack of choice” in a market where products increasingly speak the same language.

McCalip takes the argument further, connecting it to a generational shift. “I think we’re at the tail end of minimalism’s dominance, not the middle of it. A younger generation grew up entirely inside that aesthetic, and now they’re bored of it.” Duality is therefore not trying to replace one rule with another, but to introduce an alternative.

This is why the designer deliberately chose a wire. It is a presence that once seemed destined to disappear but is now returning as a visible element, almost like a necklace or chain. “People are letting it hang visibly and treating it almost like jewelry,” he explains. While Diesel turned earphones into a deliberately excessive accessory, Duality also uses form to construct a micro-narrative.

From the first sketch, almost a doodle, McCalip worked with Senne Studios on the 3D modeling and printing. The final version was then engineered with a manufacturing partner in Shenzhen. The greatest difficulty was preserving the wings, horns, and tail without turning them into uncomfortable elements once the earphones were inserted.

“It was a constant tug-of-war between comfort and detail. The more sculptural and expressive I made them, the more edges and protrusions I was creating exactly where you don’t want anything digging into your ear.” Each version involved removing part of the sculpture to preserve wearability, then attempting to recover the character that had been lost.

Duality does not introduce new audio technology. It uses existing components – 14mm drivers, a USB-C connector, and a 1.2-meter cable – enclosed within a new body. “The biggest myth independent designers carry is that launching hardware means inventing hardware. It doesn’t, and trying to is usually what kills projects before they ship.”

Funded directly by McCalip and sold online for $45, with no retailer or waiting list, the earphones suggest a possible alternative to the path followed by major technology groups: starting with components that already exist and intervening instead in the object’s skin, meaning, and identity.

“A product can still function perfectly, still be affordable, and still disappear functionally into your routine, while refusing to disappear visually,” McCalip concludes. Whether the designer was given that idea by the voice of an angel or a devil remains an open question.