This morning, I picked up Angie a few minutes after ten to head down to Fabric Row, in the hopes of finding some great fabric with which to recover the seats of the new dining room chairs. We went to five different stores and looked at more bolts of fabric than my brain was able process. I saw some interesting possibilities as well as some true horrors (as well as the store that seems to sell primarily to the Mummers) but didn’t fall in love with anything I saw out there.

Part of the problem is that I already found the fabric I want. It’s that swatch you see right there. It is the perfect marriage of modern with a classic, mid-century* sensibility. The issue with it is that it costs $105 a yard (and I need two yards), which seems like an absolutely outrageous amount to pay for something that will serve as resting place for my tuckus. Additionally, it doesn’t seem right that the fabric for the seats would cost more than all the chairs combined. However, having found my ideal fabric, it’s now proving difficult to find anything that I like even half as much. It is truly a conundrum.

Another contender

Part of why the fabric is so pricey is the fact that is based on a design found doodled in the notebooks of Charles and Ray Eames after their deaths. They are the ones responsible for some of the most iconic furniture design of the mid-century era. It is licensed and copyrighted and apparently, no one has attempted to knock off a cheaper version (at least that I can find) so if I break down and determine that it’s what I really want, I will have to pay a small fortune for it. For the meantime, I’m going to keep looking.

*I never thought I would become such a fan of the mid-century look. Throughout my childhood and adolscense, I loved old pine and oak furniture. The more it looked like it came out of an old farm house, the better. However, over the years, as I’ve lived among my grandparents’ lovingly tended Danish Modern pieces, the smooth, clean lines of the teak has grown on me, to the point where I gravitate towards it over antique pieces I once used to lust. All that said, I’m still looking for an old hoosier cabinet (the kind with a built-in flour sifter and tin-lined dry goods bins) and would never think of giving up my Mission rocker.