Some chairs have all the luck! Everyday we waited and waited for our turn to be taken upstairs to the gallery and receive our extreme chair makeover. Everyday we sat and watched as our friends and neighbors were buffed, rubbed, nipped and tucked into incredible shape, completely transformed from beastly has-beens into stunning beauties. Every time we heard someone coming down the stairs we were sure that our turn had finally arrived; that Irwin had selected us to be his latest ingénues. But, it was not to be. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, as our condition continued to deteriorate and our hope began to dwindle.
We can’t remember much about our lives before Irwin’s basement. We had been tossed and flung around the back of so many vans and trucks, it was amazing we still recognized each other and the fact that we were originally a pair of 1940’s slipper chairs. All we knew was that, had Irwin not taken us from the van that day, we would have been euthanized for sure.
We recognized that some of us were not destined to ever reach the gallery floor. Some of us were there solely as donors, utilized for valuable parts that would give the breath of life to others amongst us. But we could not imagine ourselves as donors; we had almost nothing left to give and besides, we had not had endured the Cold War, Woodstock, Disco, and more, only to give up at the very moment that we were approaching the Promised Land.
My twin sister and I were survivors. We were well over sixty years old and had never been separated a day in our lives. We were not going to go down without a fight. We were determined to catch Irwin’s attention and convince him that we could be his next pair of rising stars.
The next time we heard the basement door open, we knew we had to take action. We struck our most seductive poses, which in our condition, took a lot of work as well as a lot of nerve, and collectively stood on our “last legs” while holding our breathes. Irwin walked right by us and picked up an injured end table and was about to go back up to the gallery, when for some reason (we had hoped it was our alluring stances), he turned around, picked up my sister and carried her up the stairs, leaving me alone in the basement.
I could not sleep that night, or the night after, wondering and worrying about my twin sister and her fate. Was she receiving a makeover or something else? The rumor mill was hard at work weaving tales, not all of them sunny. There was talk of her being sold to a client as a single chair while someone else said she had been tossed into the dumpster. By the third day, I was visibly ill and had given up almost all hope of being reunited with my dear sister. That afternoon, Irwin returned to the basement and this time, came right towards me. He swept me off my feet and whisked me upstairs.
The light in the gallery was almost blinding and it took me several moments to regain focus. I was gently set down next to the most glorious chair I had ever seen. With sleek lustrous, ebonized wooden legs, amazingly luxurious velvet fabric and trimmed in nickel nailheads, this piece of furniture was simply dazzling. As I stared at this magnificent vision, I realized that this beauty was actually my dear sister.
Before I could utter a sound and ask about this miraculous transformation, I was taken into the workroom and given an extreme chair makeover of my own. As the latest recipients of Irwin’s coveted makeovers, we are the reigning queens of the gallery. We take our jobs quite seriously and are proud of our achievements and how far we have come. We are honored to share the gallery with the other spectacular furnishings and art Irwin has lovingly chosen as well as restored, and we look forward to sharing the next chapter of our lives with a loving family.