The King of Wings

Might you happen to recall from a previous post the message I got from Diana the Lady D while I was out partying with Sharona and crew?  To refresh your memory:  while at a local hookah bar celebrating Sharona’s new job, I received an urgent text message from Lady D containing a photo of two ginormous wing chairs and matching ottoman.  She’d come across these lovely items while visiting one of our fave thrift stores in NoVA, and just knew I’d fall hard for them.  Well, that evening she purchased the ottoman on my behalf, but even after visiting the two delightful (and, did I mention, gi-NOR-mous) chairs, I somehow managed to forego them.  (Although, as I mentioned in my earlier post, I wasn’t able to get the attention of the…um… ‘ladies’ who worked there, so I couldn’t negotiate the price.  Details.)

As so often happens when I walk away from an undeniably special find, I was haunted for weeks by thoughts of possessing them.  Ah, those substantial ornately carved cabriole legs, the stately silhouette….Oh, I tried to overcome my hunger; I told myself repeatedly that the need was not there, tried to console myself with the ottoman that I possessed.  However, the ottoman was but a constant reminder of those left behind.  Even after I’d selected the fabric with which to restyle the ottoman, I obsessed (I know, hard to believe, isn’t it?!?) over the massive wing chairs.  After all, when would I ever again find a chair that would complement the ottoman as well as its matching counterparts? 

Then, when I was blessed with the discovery of the Harden  club chair , I knew, Dear Readers, that it was divine intervention!  After all, the wings and ottoman were also  Harden creations!  I knew then that at least one of the massive wing chairs was meant to be mine.  But, it was weeks before when Lady D had first seen them….Surely they were spoken for by now?!?  Ah, but Diana had been making daily pilgrimages to the thrift store to check on the chairs’ status.  Often she would arrive just as the doors had been locked for the evening, and she would be forced to peer thru the windows in search of the lovelies, all the while having to endure the proclamations by the ‘ladies’ inside, “We’re closed! Come back tomorrow!”.  But the Lady D is made of sterner stuff, and she continued her vigilance day in and day out.

Finally, when I could no longer control my craving, I left my office one evening fully intending to purchase one of the chairs.  But Diana had not laid eyes upon them for over twenty-four hours; would it not be fate’s cruelty to have finally accepted my need only to have the object of my desire snatched away before I could claim it?  (I should mentioned that I had already purchased a beautiful set of fabric with which to restyle this chair the day before….I was most definitely counting my chickens, was I not?)

Having called Lady D on my way to the thrift store, I had learned that she had not been by the store that afternoon on her way home, and therefore could not verify that the chairs were still there.  Nonetheless, I fought NoVA traffic in pursuit of my treasure, hoping beyond hope.  As I pulled into the store’s parking lot, who should be waiting for me but LADY D!  She just had to witness the impending procurement for herself!

As we both ran to the store in anticipation, we kept trying to see through the windows if the chairs were still there.  YES!  There they both were!  And they were both still available!  But, showing a modicum of restraint, I convinced myself that I had to acquire only one to satisfy my need.  Also, there was no way two could fit into the Passat.  In fact, I wasn’t convinced that one of these massive items could fit!  So, armed with my ever-present tape measure, I carefully measured one of the chairs from every angle, and checked the measurements against the Passat’s cargo hold.  Yes, it would fit, but only barely!

After overcoming the challenge of removing it from amidst all the other furniture on the selling floor (with the help of ‘Sean’, the store’s charming and able-bodied assistant), it was time to finally place the chair into its awaiting chariot.  My fears, previously calmed by the multitude of measurements, were once again raised:  IT.DID.NOT.FIT.  By mere centimeters!  As I was trying to determine what manner of clothing I could tear apart in order to tie down the Passat’s rear hatch, The able-bodied Sean proved that he was more than just a pretty face:  he ingeniously suggested turning the beast (the chair, that is, not moi) around and placing it legs-first.  And, lo ‘n behold, IT.FIT!!!

So, the most wonderfully huge wing chair (pictured here with the most elegant Lady D in repose) is now holding court in The Warehouse, awaiting its royal transition to total FABULOCITY.  Yes, look at all the glorious fabrics that are its destiny!  Teal and fuchsia and pewter OH MY!  It will be pure insanity, and I cannot wait!  But fear not – you, Dear Readers, will bear witness!