As a woman approaches 30, she starts to drag her feet in front of furniture stores instead of clothing boutiques. My heart quickened when Max described his new chair:
‘My new chair has just arrived, all the way from Italy, and I am sitting in it. It is red to the point of being orange. I am very happy.’
I confessed that I’d almost bought a set of three-legged Ant originals last week, even though there is no room for them in the backpack I intend to live out of for the next few months. Max is supportive:
‘Ant chairs are one of the few things in life that are unequivocally good. There’s a bunch of knockoffs and wannabes around, and even they are mostly pretty good. I’ve always wanted a couple Ant chairs, in spite of the fact that they really don’t work that well anywhere but around a dining table. They are second in my heart only to Eames Potato Chip chairs, which really are entirely useless: too low for dining, too uncomfy for curling up & reading in, too canted-back for perching in at parties. Potato Chip chairs are really just arm-candy for successful sofas.’
Dervala.com 