/Patio chair? Please – chaise, and make it two

Patio chair? Please – chaise, and make it two

BY KAREN HELLER
Knight Ridder Newspapers

The deck of my childhood home was our sanctuary in the city, decorated with a pair of wood benches, a Weber grill, a round dining table, and four vinyl strap chairs. My parents never changed a thing, except to replace the Weber every decade or so.

The backyard of our family’s home, a sanctuary in the city, is decorated with a pair of wood benches, a Weber grill, a round table, and four vinyl strap chairs from exactly the same manufacturer, Brown Jordan. In a rebellious gesture, the furniture is a darker green.

Clearly, if home catalogues are any indication, I am doing this entirely wrong. My patio fails to make a statement. Vinyl-strap chairs, even those that can withstand years of abuse, are passe. A plastic chair or wooden picnic table isn’t going to cut it anymore.

Today, people have “rooms” in their gardens and “entertainment centers” on their patios. Grills are the size of Buicks, at the same cost, and require a graduate education to operate. An indoor kitchen isn’t enough, especially if it requires substantial travel from back door to guest. An outdoor kitchen is preferable, especially if you’re projecting that you dwell on a multi-hectare estate.

Restoration Hardware offers a selection of fine furniture collections, named after tony locales people like to travel to by yacht, such as Antibes and Montauk. This makes sense because, once you’ve paid for the collection, you won’t be able to travel anywhere. Or, if you can travel to such tony locales, why expend so much on the yard?

We know the cruel answer. The world’s best-decorated homes are the most frequently vacated while the most disheveled hovels are rarely abandoned. Indeed, one of my dream jobs is to house-sit the world’s best-decorated, frequently vacated homes.

RH’s Antibes outdoor sofa – no mere bench, a sofa – costs $1,255. The cushion – and a cushion would make it a sofa, not a cast-aluminum bench – is $505 extra. With shipping and tax, the total is $2,036.21. “Will that be only one sofa?” the lovely RH operator asked when I inquired of the cost.

For those playing along at home, that’s more than most of us spend on an indoor, all-season sofa.

And who is going to bring in the cushion(s) when, perchance, the elements are unkind? For the right price, I will if hired to house-sit the world’s best-decorated, frequently vacated homes.

Pottery Barn – or Poverty Barn as it’s known at our shack – counters with the Chesapeake Oversized Outdoor Lounger, photographed perilously close to an azure sea that looks like the Caribbean, not the Chesapeake. The outdoor bed, when once a hammock might do, starts at $1,899 without accessories. But a Lounger needs accessories. As for the simple hammock, it’s $340, with wooden stand and festive headrest.

You no longer rough the outdoors. You romance the place. There are no longer chairs, but chaises. One chaise, as the lovely RH operator suggests, is never quite enough, even if opting for the double model.

Since the sun became our enemy, umbrellas feature the wingspan of an Airbus 340. Tables are large enough for a Tuscan al fresco banquet, the suggestion that you’re always ready for one more guest should Monica Bellucci stop by for some Prosecco and figs.

In the new garden, everything is designed to make a statement. It all looks beautiful. More important, it all looks really expensive. It’s patio one-upmanship. We’re no longer keeping up with the Joneses, but seeing them a Chesapeake sectional and raising them a gazebo.

Maybe the indoors no longer matter but what can be judged by the wider world. The backyard is a stationary car, a statement of who we are and what our money can acquire, even if we must contend with bugs and the aural inconvenience of other people’s mowers.

As with all commercial matters, the backyard revolution nabs consumers early. Pottery Barn Kids offers an Outdoor Playhouse for a mere $2,500. Decorating the adorable dwelling is extra.

ABOUT THE WRITER

Karen Heller is a columnist for Philadelphia Inquirer. Readers may write to her at the Philadelphia Inquirer, P.O Box 8263, Philadelphia, Pa. 19101, or send e-mail to kheller@phillynews.com.