I consider myself pretty egalitarian when it comes to furniture aesthetics. As long as a couch is comfortable, who cares that it looks like it’s from the 60s? Lime green lacquered kitchen chairs? We could all use a little more color in our lives. Water stains and a broken spring in my college armchair? Years of memories!
But I had quite a shock when I got back home to the hotel/dorm/apartment building this afternoon to find this in my room:
This has got to be The Ugliest Chair The World Has Ever Seen. And it smells like old cigarette smoke. And I think I saw some sort of insect crawling across the seat. And it’s lumpy. And dusty. And has a serial number painted across the bottom in white?
Just when I thought I had my head wrapped around this place I live… Oh well. I think I’ll name it Edgar.