The Chair. One of the most basic components of the modern-day room, it’s a brilliant bridge between function and form. If you study it carefully enough, really listen to what it’s trying to say, it will tell you a story about the hands that formed it, where it was molded, and what it’s creator and era was trying to say.

Having been lucky enough to have just returned from some of Europe’s most fascinating design capitals, I had the chance to survey the works of many of the Greats. Here are a few of my current flames and their stories:

Side Chair No. 14 – Thonet (1859)

Made of 6 pieces of steam bent wood, ten screws and two washers, No. 14 was an anomaly born into a world of handcrafted one-offs that only the upper crust could afford. She’s (clearly she’s a ‘she’ with all those curves) the girl-next-door kind of sweet, and her low maintenance appeal is just what the doctor ordered.

Utilitarian romance. Who’d have thought?

Red/Blue Chair – Ferrit Thomas Rietveld (1918)

The runways are swarming with the isolated chunks of primary sunshine, reminding me that nothing is new under the sun.

This chair was created by De Stijl philosophers who believed that peace and happiness could be found through the harmony of colour and geometry.

I don’t know that I can find nirvana in a chair, but I do like to look at this chair quite a lot. The balance is fantastic, and the yellow bits especially make me smile…

B3 – Marcel Breuer (1925)

AKA the Wassily Chair. Another extraordinary example of gorgeous function to come out of Germany’s Bauhaus school of design. In a time where the world was experiencing devastating lack after the ravages of war, Germany gathered their great minds together to rethink how to live with less. Minimalism was born, and its austere, restrained mystery took the world by force.

Transat – Eileen Gray (1927)

Oh Eileen, your mind is a beautiful place indeed. Form and function never looked so good together. Sleek contentment, with curves in all the right places.

Can’t deny that a part of the appeal is the fact that Gray was a female designer in the middle of a male dominated trade. She created the Transat chair to emulate her love of travel, with that mechanical-inspired structure that hints at the notion of breaking down your favourite piece of home, putting it in your backpack and walking on…

Barcelona – van der Rohe and Reich (1929)

Comfort and elegance strike the perfect balance. Luxury and modern, male and female, shine and supple… Perhaps the perfect balance is the reason it can be found in nearly every corporate office space across the globe?

It is pitch perfect for so many scenarios.

Paimio Lounge Chair – Alvar Aalto (1931)

Why don’t we see this chair more? I would love to test it out, but I’ve yet to encounter it anywhere but in Nordic museums. Created for the Finnish sanatorium, the chair was designed for comfort and healing of the body and mind. I deeply appreciate the idea that a chair can do all that.

You can lay your healing hands on me anytime, Mr. Aalto.

Zig Zag – F. T. Rietveld (1932)

And Rietveld strikes again. This time the abstraction is simplified and more organic. The chair is a conceptual work of art – perfect for an occasional chair in a prominent position.

The style has been reproduced in more ways than one can imagine – from sleek to rustic, wood to aluminum or plastics. It works, and looks good in the meanwhile. ‘Nuff said.

Lar, Dar and Rar – Charles and Ray Eames (1948)

Where you looking to lounge? Rock? Dine?

One chair, half a dozen bases and a full dozen colours = millions of happy bottoms and counting…

DKR Wire Mesh Chair – Charles and Ray Eames (1951)

 The Eames dynamic duo weren’t done yet. Bending plywood and fiberglass got kind of passé, so they took to steel like the Incredible Hulk. Well, the Hulk in a cut-out monokini…

I think the undeniable sex appeal comes again from the juxtaposing of naughty and nice. The lines are delicate and the product is cold steel. The revealing cut of the black leather is a little bad-ass, but the lines say, ‘Who? Me? I’m all practical and innocent.’

Bubble Chair – Eero Aarnio (1968)

One day I will hang a Bubble Chair from my ceiling and I will climb in it and drift away… The idea of floating in a bubble, in your own defined space but surrounded by light and life, is intoxicating. It doesn’t hurt that I imagine I’ll be looking oh-so-cool while doing it.

The 670 – Charles and Ray Eames (1956)

The iconic lounger does for the middle aged executive’s glutes what a black convertible Jaguar does for his waning hairline.

‘Ok. You can take me home,’ says the twenty-years- younger foxy secretary.

Panton Chair – Verner Panton (1968)

It’s the perfect remedy for the seriousness of life. It just makes me grin, and the snags and hitches of the day slide right off that slippery slope.

The only problem is picking my favourite colour…

UP5 Donna – Gaetano Pesce (1969)

OK, so I might get a complex comparing myself to her fullness every day, but really, she’s hard not to love. She demands a reaction, and I appreciate that quality in a chair.

Donna was created to be a kitschy take on the hot topic of the subjection of women in modern society. It’s tongue in cheek, avant-garde humour that makes you stop and think, and choose some reaction.

The Ghost Chair – Philippe Starck (2002)

Louis XV haunts this classic chair. With two of her transparent polycarbonate legs set in the opulence of French Rococo, and two in the modern industrial age, the juxtaposing forces of new and old, heavy and light, mature and playful, create drama and energy.

This chair makes the perfect bridge for eclectic mixes.

Jehs Laub Lounge Chair – Markys Jehs (2011)

Craftsmanship precision and luxurious comfort in one modern work of art. Perhaps it’s that I love squares? And caramels, come to think of it, and pillows…

Um, yes, please.

And the list goes on. There are entirely too many lovely ways to rest one’s bum. It’s a wonder, really, that we ever get up and get moving. The bottom line (pardon the pun) is this – don’t waste a chance to tell a story with the chairs you choose for your space. It’s not just a utilitarian necessity; it can also be a tiny window into who you are and what you love.