Our older daughter Rebecca had just started first grade in a new school. It differed from other schools in the district because of its open design. Kids actually walk outside to change classes beneath covered, but not enclosed, walkways. The architecture caught the eye of my husband Jake. We later discovered that it was indeed a California based firm that designed the school and so the mid century vibe was unmistakable. Then one day, when picking her up from school, a door swung open and I got a glance of teachers' break room. Saarinen tables and Eames designed Herman Miller chairs. The curtains were very reminiscent, if not the real deal, of Lucienne Day. Well, maybe my house could look like THIS 1960's classroom....
Jake followed up his suggestion with a small coffee table book, showcasing mid-century homes and furnishings, very tastefully arranged. I could see that the concept that I had had in my head was way off. I started studying the different designers, their styles, and began assembling my own likes and dislikes. I was determined to find anything with what I called "Danish legs" and managed to score a few roadside pieces. I brought them home and shyly asked Jake, "Is this right?" With widened eyes and a huge smile he said yes. I was on the right track.
A few months later, I was on my way to pick Jake up from the train station. He had just flown in from Palm Springs and had taken the train from the airport. On the way I drove past the local mission, which had just had a rummage sale. Whatever had not sold was waiting patiently for the garbage men at the curb. I noted a large orange crescent shape poking out amongst the pile. THAT looks really familiar. I didn't want to be late for Jake and worried that, whatever it was, it would not be there when I returned.
Hugged husband, "Welcome Home. We gotta run." What's the rush? "Saw something, think I found something amazing. COME ON!" My poor jet lagged mate placed his suitcase and his weary body into the car and down the road we headed towards the pile. It was still there. An original Bertoia Diamond chair. At first glance I could understand why it had made its way curbside. The top half of the orange cover had been bleached out by sitting in front of a window too long. It was dirty, and still I knew that it had to come home. After getting it home we went back and forth about keeping the cover. I knew it would cost a pretty penny to replace the cover, and cleaning it would not achieve the desired result. I was dying to see what it looked like under the cover and finally convinced Jake to let me remove it. It was pristine. The cover had preserved it all these years.
The chair now sits in my living room. People still find it hard to believe that I found it curbside. It has been joined by a Bertoia footstool, which belonged to Jake's grandmother and had been used to hold up her laundry detergent for a number of years. The Bertoia "Bird Chair" it was originally paired with was banished to the outdoors and sadly is in desperate need of restoration. (It's on my "to do" list. My very long "to do" list.) And I think my very patient husband is pleased that I finally came around to his way of MCM thinking.
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