I most definitely wasn’t looking for an egg chair but I found this on Ebay (um, so on some level I probably was looking for one but certainly didn’t have the room for one in my house). Anyway, I couldn’t stop looking and after some equiries with couriers I bid and it was mine for £114, plus a hefty delivery fee.
I just loved everything about this squishy, velvety, swivelly, retro eggy bit of retro furniture and was literally hopping up and down until the day it was delivered to my house, and I imagined the time we would spend curled up together with a book and glass of wine.
Finally, it arrived in the back of a van, dressed in blankets and I rushed it into the house (no mean feat as egg chairs are almost impossible to grasp), plonked it down on the lounge floor and leapt onto it.
But it didn’t love me back. Instead it sighed inwardly and tilted forward with a squeaky groan, as if suggesting I get out and leave it alone. Despite the rejection, I made a proper space for it and even managed to track down a matching stool, as one might obtain a donkey companion for a horse. But still it sat there ungratefully, no one really daring to use it. The final insult came when one of its little plastic feet went astray and it managed to leave a deep scratch in the floor.
One thing that drove me mad about the chair, possibly even more than its lack of comfort, was the lack of information about it. It was sold to me without any information on the maker, and on the rare occasions I’ve seen an identical one, its been unidentified. I just like to know these things, and I lived in vain hope that if I found out the manufacturer name, I could figure out if the chair could be adjusted or if it had just been made that way.
It continued to be a mystery until a couple of days ago, when I had to move the chair from the bay window to make way for the Christmas tree, and I had the genius idea of tipping it upside down to see if there was anything printed there, and there it was – a patent label! And from there it was easy – a quick google and up came all the patent details: it was made by Vono in August 1969 and the patent relates to the relatively complex (but seemingly relatively rubbish) rocking mechanism consisting of brackets, bars, flanges, trunks, fixing plates and bolts.
It’s nice to find out finally about the history of the chair, although I still have no idea if the comfort can be improved. I should really sell it as there still isn’t proper space for it in the lounge (the area it was photographed in above is now filled with a teak sofa).
But for now, I’ll enjoy its photogenic charm and it does come in useful as a background when taking photos of the baby…