Bergère.

This is a bergère. Not to be confused with Folies Bergère, which is where you went to see topless ladies in banana skirts in Paris during the twenties, which sounds amazing. Up until five years ago, you could also see a terrible American reproduction at a place called the “Tropicana”. I think it was in Las Vegas. Thank GOD that tragedy is gone.

Let’s get back to furniture. Louis XV invented the bergère, and every castle deserves one. Fortunately, estate sales are full of these things, but unfortunately, they usually smell bad and are seventy years out of style because “Estate Sale” really means “Someone I Love Just Died And I Need To Get Rid Of All This Stuff.”  It’s depressing to think about dead people when you’re shopping for furniture, but if you bring a friend it lightens the mood, and they can help you look past the obvious (stains) and embrace the innumerable possibilities (lacquered fuchsia and cowhide would be AMAZING).

Here is a recent addition to my seating collection, and trust me, it did not look like this when I bought it. First, I ripped off the floral chintz that had been there since 1977, which felt awesome. The bullfighter repaired the cane back and I re-dressed it in a delicious eggplant velvet. Voila. A brand new spot to pretend to read the Economist.