Of all the things that my parents have passed down to me (an almost debt-free college degree, a charming Southern accent…), one of the absolute best is my grandfather’s living room chair.
Seventy years old. Shiny brown polyester fabric. Musty from the thousands of times that my grandfather would sink into its depths after double shifts at the steel mill or 18-hour days at his gas station–the chair wouldn’t seem to inspire.
And it didn’t–until my mom pointed out that all it needed was a can of Febreze and some snappy fabric. Besides, she reminded my 29-year-old self, one day I would need more furniture than a bed, a coffee table my parents bought when I was in third grade, and stacked milk crates of questionable origin.
Five years after my grandfather no longer needed his club chair and my parents tired of storing it, Neil and I were in digs permanent enough to reclaim it. Some $180 in fabric later, we were ready for a makeover.
Until I got quotes from upholsters in Midtown, the Upper East Side, and across the park. Even non-fancy ones expected $750 to $1,200. Labor only. Fabric, delivery, and pickup not included.
I was trying to convince myself that shiny brown polyester fabric was kind of retro when I found Basil Wallace working in an upholstery shop near my Upper East Side apartment. And, why yes, he did do side jobs.
Two weeks and $300 later, Basil was removing protective cellophane from a like-new white chair in our apartment.
Seven years down the road, when the chair was threadbare and stained, Basil turned it around in a week for $350. Pickup, delivery, arm covers, and throw pillow included.
Over the years, Basil has rebuilt and recovered our living room couch for $850 (though he charges up to $1,300 for larger prices), sewn a duvet cover and pillow shams ($75, years ago) as well as a matching shower curtain for about $65. To recover dining room chair cushions, it’s $75 per chair–about 25% less than other local economical options and at least 50% less than even run-down looking upholstery shops. Basil is also currently making a button that was ripped off a leather chair and then lost. (Don’t ask.) And, assuming your easy chair isn’t all that’s in need of TLC, Basil works with a furniture restorer as facile with dead trees as Basil is with brocade.
Certainly, you can find a new chair at Costco, Home Goods, or department stores sales for less than $150. And with IKEA a Zipcar ride away, you can bring home a couch for $400. And they’ll do the same job. But today’s wallet-friendly furniture probably won’t be in any shape to pass along to the grandkids. It may not even hold up through fifth grade–as we discovered with an IKEA bathroom vanity. (A bargain nine years ago at $200, but now severely warped and in need of a visit to the sidewalk.)
But, there’s just something about owning a chair where your grandfather sat to hold your newborn dad.
Like Basil, who lives in Brooklyn and offers free pickup and delivery, Orville Weir also will come to your apartment for pieces to be restored. This summer, he replaced the warped top of my other grandfather’s 1940s upright radio cabinet ($125), rejoined a dining room arm chair from the 1960s ($60–compared to $120 I had paid an earlier furniture restorer for the other arm chair), and rejoined a dresser drawer ($35ish) that my mom used growing up.
Should you prefer businesses with actual storefronts, George Wild is an old-time German artisan with a cluttered Upper East Side shop, stunning craftsmanship and reasonable prices. Pre-Orville, a sideboard on our sons’ bed split (perhaps explaining why dads ought not jump on beds–even after a long day at work, even if kids think it’s hilarious). After getting $300 quotes from furniture repair businesses that advertised, the boys were on their way to permanent mattress-on-floor status when I found George via Angie’s List. Upside: $75 to repair the bedrail. Downside: No pickup or delivery. Not an issue with a 7-pound wooden plank, less convenient with an 80-pound leather chair missing an ornamental button.
Just goes to show that even in a city not associated with bargains, you can find some amazing deals.
As for the ugly brown chair that started this whole thing, my grandfather would’ve been proud at the money we didn’t spend.
Oh, and it’s brown again.
Basil Wallace of Daybirth Upholstery
718-636-9673; 646-648-0140; [email protected]
Orville Weir
347-651-4422; [email protected]
George Wild Furniture Refinishing/Antique Furniture
1595 York Avenue; 212-737-4658
Hillary Chura writes our Le$$er Parenting column. She lives in on the Upper East Side with her husband and two sons.
