Tattoos (aka, Catch Up, Part One)

Erm, it's been awhile.  It's been a bit of a busy week, but business leads to actually having things to write about.  In an attempt to a) not bore those that read this, and b) not bore myself, I'm breaking my catch-up post into a few posts.

Back to the tattoos first!  So, last Sunday, my incredibly brave friend, S, and I headed over to the tattoo shop, which I love.  (I swear, people-watching doesn't get much better than in tattoo shops.  Walk-in days are best, but, really, oddballs can show up at any time!)  We had appointments that began at noon, and it was snowing, so all the staff was a bit late, but we just hung out.  S had declared she was going first (get it over with!) so it was just a case of waiting for John to be ready, talking with S, drawing it up, getting it priced, John setting up the room...  And so on.  S was a champ, though!  There was a bit of time when she felt dizzy - which it totally normal!  Thank goodness, she said something!  John said that there are generally two things that happen if someone doesn't tell him that they're not feeling well - they either pass out OR they "power vomit."  I was thankful to avoid both of those scenarios.  But, after some glucose tablets and water, we were back in business and all went smoothly.  And the results???  A pretty flower!

... A pretty flower resulting in a hilarious story a few days later.  S is a high school math teacher.  Her students are, well, they're not the angels I was in high school, let's just say that.  (I'm not being sarcastic here.)  S tends to wear a sweatshirt to school, and then change into a more professional, blazer thing for work.  Wednesday, however, she forgot to change before her kids came into the room.  As she lifted her shirt over her head, apparently her shirt came up a bit, and her kids saw her tattoo, at which point they freaked out about it.  There were whispers of "I never thought Ms. H would have a tattoo!"  Seriously, they probably talked about it at lunch.  I kind of figure they may respect her a little more now; given the reason, I can't decide if that's a good or a bad thing.  Generally, they should have just respected her from the beginning...

After S was set and we had had some rejuvenating milkshakes from Ben & Jerry's, it was my turn!  (Also of note, every time we said the word "milkshake," John would go "Did you know that my milksha

ke brings all the boys to the yard?"  Hilarious coming from a thirty-something, heavily-tattooed guy.)  When John saw what I wanted, he said something along the lines of "Remember how we talked and laughed during S's tattoo?  Yeah, we won't be doing that with yours."  I should have realized this, but straight lines are a tattoo artist's nightmare.  Whoops.

Oh well, an hour and a bit later, it turned out sa-weet!  I'm loving it.  (And now beginning to think of what's next on my list...)

However, back to my chair.  I realized in my earlier post, I posted the Knoll poster of the chair...  But not actually what the chair looks like.  (In trying to explain what the tattoo was going to look like to a coworker, "It's from an ad for a chair.  But it doesn't look like a chair," apparently didn't really describe much.)  Here's the love of my modern design life, the Bertoia Diamond Chair:

I dream of having a bunch of these in black, with various red / orange / yellow seat pads.  In real life, I actually don't own one quite yet, but it's coming soon!  (Probably in chrome, a close second.)

The Diamond Chair was designed in the early 50s - I believe it went into production in 1952 - by Harry Bertoia, an Italian-bord designer known most for his metalwork.  Actually, I just learned (wonders of the internet!) that Bertoia designed the fountain at Marshall University that commemorates the plane crash victims (1970.)  Makes me want to watch "We Are Marshall" again.  (The fountain and the fact that it was a great movie.)  Anyways, the Diamond Chair has been amongst my favourites ever since I discovered the joys of modern design.

However, some joker named Douglas Homer thought that it would be funny to go from "Harry Bertoia" to "Hairy Bertoia," and made this abomination of my chair:

Ack!  I'm not impressed.  Between the garish colour and the fact that these sponge cords completely hide the beautiful design of the chair...  I just do not like it.  At all!  Give me the original!