The Eames Chair
As a small child I was always intrigued by the special armchair my grandfather had. It was of completely different design and style to the other upholstery and occupied a prime location within their living room. From it my grandfather spent significant parts of his retirement watching Channel 4's horse racing coverage. I wondered why it was reserved just for him and why he needed it when there was a perfectly decent 2-piece suite of sofa and armchair (actually it was a 3-piece but the second armchair had been banished to the dining room to make space in the living room for his special chair).
As I get older I increasingly understand the appeal of a special chair, it's almost the indoor equivilent of the shed, a sort of safe-haven for a man within his world. I'd love to be able to have a truely amazing chair, something perfect and impossibly comfortable. In my dreams I can picture myself reclining delightedly in a classic 20th century design like an Eames chair, however, at a cost of £3000 or £4000 each I, like Marty Crane in 'Frasier' may have to settle for something a little more modest, though I hope mine will not be held together with duct tape.
I just read about Eames chairs in a novel. Apparently they were designed for the poor but they weren't interested and became covetable furniture for the rich. It's apparently a display of intelligence to like Eames furniture. Not bad Marty.
ReplyDeleteI think over time I've also become attracted to the idea of a "special chair". It's a humbler ambition than "A Room of One's Own", but worthy all the same.
ReplyDeleteAnd if I ever achieve it, I think the Eames would be just the right one. Just looking at it I can tell that it would start to take on your body shape, becoming closer and closer to an extension of yourself as time went on.