The Illustrious Life of Vera

My chair has had a very illustrious existence. I venture to guess it has even had a very long and fruitful life thus far, as I found it in a high end thrift shop (high end equaling fruitful, thrift shop equaling longish). At first glance the chair was (is) a beautiful specimen: matte white leather with a chic black trim, tall, polished chrome legs, the back two which curve slightly.

I think it is safe to say I am in love with my chair.

Even if my chair is a woman (It is totally a woman, only women are this beautiful and well preserved, except maybe for gay men. I don't think my chair is a gay man.)

Upon further inspection, my chair once belonged to Burberry. What this means is mostly lost on me, as I can only surmise that it once made it's home in a high end retail store. Not far from the Burberry client sticker on the bottom of my chair, there is a tiny sticker which says "Made in Italy" AND a tiny Italian flag. Italy! I knew this chair was special- extraordinary, even.

Who may have sat in my chair before I lugged it up Hudson street, into the Iofredda's apartment building, then back down to the subway, onto the 1 train, transferring in Times Square to the N train, into the Food World so I could purchase toilet paper, and then down 29th Street to my apartment where we climbed the stairs to it's new home?

Who, indeed? My chair has gotten so many jealous looks in even my short ownership. People looking longingly at it's supple leather, as they sat on the hard plastic benches of the N. People glancing sideways and cranking their heads around as my chair passed, the kind of looks normally reserved for leggy blondes. People with questionable glances, wondering where or how they might obtain such a chic and lovely piece of furniture for their own humble apartments.

Oh, my chair. Touched by rich old women, Italian stock boys, perhaps a burly UPS man or an overly tactile customs inspector. And now reserved primarily for my behind. Or my clean laundry. Or maybe I will rest my computer (up until now my most cherished posession) on it's smooth cream colored surface.

I sure am getting old and domestic.