Let’s talk about LEGO

A detail from Assembly Square. I loved that there was an auburn-haired mom and baby.

A detail from Assembly Square. I loved that there was an auburn-haired mom and baby.

As part of sharing the news about joining Matrix, I had a chance to revisit my Twitter bio. Here’s what I landed on:

Early-stage VC @MatrixPartners. Before: product @Salesforce @Quip @SoundCloud @Microsoft. Big fan of reading and writing. Let’s talk about LEGO.

I think it’s all pretty self-explanatory, except maybe the last part. What about LEGO?

Well: everyone needs a pandemic hobby, and the one I settled on was LEGO. In spring 2020, I was stir-crazy (weren’t we all) and decided it would be good to have something to focus on; something to look forward to in the evenings that would take me away from screens. I arrived at the idea of LEGO sets after hearing about them on a mom podcast and coming to see them as “puzzles with more replay value.” (I liked imagining building giant structures with my two young kids one day; it‘s harder to picture a long-term use case for jigsaw puzzle pieces.) This was also around the time that the first season of LEGO Masters was airing, and I’d picked up watching it week by week on Hulu due to my abiding affection for creative challenge reality TV shows. I decided to test my hunch about the role this hobby could play in my life by picking up my first set, the San Francisco skyline in the LEGO Architecture collection.

I was enchanted. I’ve built, on average, one LEGO set a month ever since—some containing thousands of pieces. Sifting through colorful LEGO bricks and layering them step by step has been a delightful place for my mind to rest over the past year.

What’s funny is that this LEGO fascination isn’t tapping into childhood fantasies in any obvious way. I was never a LEGO kid; we had a drawer of bricks in our playroom, but I thought of them as my brother’s, and can’t remember ever playing with them. And the fact that I’ve found myself drawn to sets is even more surprising to me. From my years immersed in San Francisco’s hacker / maker culture, I think of myself as someone who respects inventing things from scratch. But for me, LEGO isn’t about respect. It’s about fun.

When I build LEGO sets, I experience at least seven levels of fun:

  1. Anticipation. Which set will I build next? Once I order it, when will it arrive? What will it feel like to open the box and embark on a many-hour journey?

  2. Sensory enjoyment. The crinkling noise of the clear plastic numbered bags holding each batch of bricks. The clatter of little pieces tumbling into ceramic bowls. The cacophony of colors. The satisfying snap of pushing each brick into place.

  3. Progress. The feeling of always knowing what the next step is and feeling motivated to tackle it. The experience of somehow magically finding time to build; time appears out of thin air when you have something to look forward to.

  4. Organization. Sorting pieces into small piles to prepare for each stage of the instructions.

  5. Satisfaction. Seeing a grand vision come together bit by bit. Focusing on the micro and then zooming out and seeing the big picture.

  6. Appreciation. Noticing and appreciating all the details and ingenious twists and turns put in place by LEGO designers. Experiencing awe at the business genius that has me paying on average 10 cents a brick for the total experience of LEGO.

  7. Hope. Looking toward the future and picturing all the fun I’ll have reusing these pieces with my kids one day. (I hope they like LEGO.) Wondering what sets LEGO will come out with next.

This has been such a weird time, but LEGO sets have been a real pocket of joy for me. I just finished two giant sets—the grand piano and Assembly Square—so I’m in full nostalgia mode at the moment.

Has LEGO ever been a part of your life? And are there any sets you’d love to build?

Diana Berlinlego