Of course I’m sitting in it now, it’s my writing chair, and will be the last thing to leave the island with me in moving this week, regardless of its weight. I’ll haul it out to the back of my car, toss my laptop in, and pull away in tears. I’m sure it’s the least traditional writing chair on earth, but it’s been a love affair for over two decades and this chair will follow me until I die.
I was at an outdoor antiques auction where I purchased furniture for the giant Victorian where I raised my kids. I was about eight months pregnant with my daughter Faith who graduates in a few weeks from Johns Hopkins, so I guess it was 23 years ago. I thought the shape of the chair was unique and liked the wild blue and green vinyl print. I was decorating her nursery in vintage Beatrix Potter frogs, and it matched. It was a recliner, noted by a wooden handle, and had armrests, so I thought it would be a good for nursing the baby in the middle of the night.
As the auctioneer neared, I decided to try the chair out, sat down, released the handle, and will never forget the “swoosh” motion the chair made as it swept me off my feet. I never wanted to leave the chair again. As someone who’s suffered lifelong with migraines, back and neck pain, the chair came straight from heaven. Wow, I thought, not only could I nurse a baby in this chair, but with a pillow on my lap it’s the perfect writing chair because it allows me to write pain-free. I could write while nursing a baby. It was my version of the feminist “bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan” moment.
The auctioneer approached in his golf cart, so the crowd gathered around the chair. Today, the auction house still operates but all bids are online. Back then in the “furniture field,” bids opened at $5. He chuckled. “Anyone want to bid against the pregnant lady in the chair?” There were silence and smiles. I smiled too as one of the helpers asked if he could take it to my car. I happily paid my $5 for the best chair of my lifetime.
The story gets weirder. At that time I didn’t know anything about the chair’s history, I’d just fallen in love with it. In another auction lot, I’d bought a random box of books for $5. One of the books was a large 1950s Life photography book, and as I was flipping through it months later, I found a photo of Marilyn Monroe in an identical chair.
I’ve never seen another chair like it, don’t know anything about it, have tried to research but never learned anything about whether it’s called something or who designed it. It’s some kind of mid-century version of the zero gravity chair, and will never leave my side. Years ago, here on this porch, over drinks, a friend and I decided there needed to be a “side by side” of the Marilyn photo with our chairs. Mine isn’t as glamorous. I wonder if Marilyn loved her chair as much as I love mine.