Up until last week I had a leather chair that was my go to chair for relaxing. Fifteen years I had that chair.
Originally purchased at Pottery Barn before their products went to crap in the late 1990s, it was far and away the most comfortable and restful sitting place I have experienced. Through the entire X Files series, Firefly, Denver Bronco games (two Superbowls), Sharks hockey, Dog Whisperer, sci-fi channel, and on and on.
It even make cracking sound as the leather cushion expanded back to its original shape after you got out of it. It sounded like the chair was breathing a sigh of relief.
As I look at the chair for the last time I see where my activator has stained a Rorschach imprint resembling my head or as my one of my friends said,
“Dude, looks like ghost in a bell jar.”
Okay, puff, puff, pass.
On the leather surface there is almost no place safe from the miles of wear and tear on the chair, food stains to numerous to classify, wine stains from an array of varietals, ink and marker pen stains from young nieces and nephews, paint marks, oil from skin, dog drool, kid spittle, BBQ (I mention this as it is one of the higher value stains on the chair), beer, and bug juice. All soaked too deep in the dark amber hide to effectively clean. And why clean it? These are the waypoints of my life in the chair. Some even evoke memories of the event, others, rage (pen marks), mystery stains but all intrinsically making the chair a living road map of its and my life.
Can I clean it? Apparently not, as the dye on the leather also comes off. And I tried all kinds of commercial and home remedies for getting stains out of leather. Reader’s note; when they say test a leaning product n a small area to determine if it is color safe, they know what they are talking about. So it sat idle more and more, as I aged and went onto a new sitting place. The new place was comfortable and not far away. Over the course of time the chair became cold from lack of attention. It needed a new home and a new owner who appreciated its place in its life span. Ideally it would be someone who knew it and would reacquaint it with the warmth of the human body.
As I watched my friend K take the chair, she assured me should would die in it as she loved it so much. And I thought to myself, “Huh, I wonder how to get that stain out?”
Originally purchased at Pottery Barn before their products went to crap in the late 1990s, it was far and away the most comfortable and restful sitting place I have experienced. Through the entire X Files series, Firefly, Denver Bronco games (two Superbowls), Sharks hockey, Dog Whisperer, sci-fi channel, and on and on.
It even make cracking sound as the leather cushion expanded back to its original shape after you got out of it. It sounded like the chair was breathing a sigh of relief.
As I look at the chair for the last time I see where my activator has stained a Rorschach imprint resembling my head or as my one of my friends said,
“Dude, looks like ghost in a bell jar.”
Okay, puff, puff, pass.
On the leather surface there is almost no place safe from the miles of wear and tear on the chair, food stains to numerous to classify, wine stains from an array of varietals, ink and marker pen stains from young nieces and nephews, paint marks, oil from skin, dog drool, kid spittle, BBQ (I mention this as it is one of the higher value stains on the chair), beer, and bug juice. All soaked too deep in the dark amber hide to effectively clean. And why clean it? These are the waypoints of my life in the chair. Some even evoke memories of the event, others, rage (pen marks), mystery stains but all intrinsically making the chair a living road map of its and my life.
Can I clean it? Apparently not, as the dye on the leather also comes off. And I tried all kinds of commercial and home remedies for getting stains out of leather. Reader’s note; when they say test a leaning product n a small area to determine if it is color safe, they know what they are talking about. So it sat idle more and more, as I aged and went onto a new sitting place. The new place was comfortable and not far away. Over the course of time the chair became cold from lack of attention. It needed a new home and a new owner who appreciated its place in its life span. Ideally it would be someone who knew it and would reacquaint it with the warmth of the human body.
As I watched my friend K take the chair, she assured me should would die in it as she loved it so much. And I thought to myself, “Huh, I wonder how to get that stain out?”
Comments