Dear readers,

I will not pretend that I know anything about design. I am not a designer. I am a writer. And not a particularly good one either. I live in New York and I make about twenty-five cents a day, or whatever Sally Struthers can raise on my behalf. My furniture is from IKEA. I have a table that transforms from an intimate tabletop for two into a grand dining room table for four. Four! That’s good design, right? Those Swedes are so clever, with their meatballs and their socialized healthcare! My apartment is 187 square feet and I have never transformed my table, but I like having the option. Options are good. In fact, people complain when they don’t have options. When they say “This is our only option,” they always look very upset.

My furniture has funny names, like Fartyg and Aläng, Bjursta, and, inexplicably, Jeff. It pleases me that furniture comes with names. Why call it a chair, when you can call it Fritz, Henrik, or Ingolf? My chair’s name is Bertil, but I like to call it Piece of Shit because it’s broken. I still use it though. Actually I make my guests sit in it because I like the look on their faces when Piece of Shit breaks and they think it’s because of their fat asses. Anyway this is what happens when you buy a chair that costs $19.99 and it comes in a flat box that’s two inches wide and all you need is a metal L and a dream to build it. Maybe that is good design. Listen, I have no idea. Really. All I know is that people are always complaining about their chairs, whether they spend $19.99 or a few thousand dollars.

You are probably wondering why I am writing here. I obviously don’t know anything about design, nor can I afford anything that might be of "good design" whatever that means. I don't really know. The good people at Emeco asked me and I said, why not? They gave me a link to a YouTube video in which a cheeky Englishman throws an Emeco chair out a sixth-story window and it does not break. It is the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen. Why do I need my chair to survive a sixth-story drop? WHY? I need my chair to handle fat asses and people who like to tip their chairs back after they eat and ruin my beautiful linoleum floors. Why don’t they put that on YouTube?

I admit that throwing a chair out of a window seems like a very satisfying experience. I’d like to do that, but I can tell you right now I wouldn’t stop at chairs. I’d start with my upstairs neighbor. She is really annoying. Why do people wear high heels inside? No idea, but she’d be the first to go. I only live on the third floor, so she might actually survive. But here’s the true test. I tie her to an Emeco chair and then throw her out a six-story window. She’ll probably survive, which is a good thing, I guess. That’s good design, right? Apparently these little chairs also withstand “torpedo blasts,” in case my neighbors get very angry with me, and they can also withstand being catapulted against a brick wall.

Listen, I’m very proud of the people responsible for this. They should make cars and planes out of whatever it is these chairs are made out of. But that doesn’t make it “good design.” No one will ever catapult a chair, unless there are village people with torches and pitchforks storming the castle. Also, no one will ever launch anything that costs so much that the manufacturer refuses to list the price in the catalog. Just saying.

Very truly yours,
Annie Choi