By Maria Neuman

My obsession started in 2010 while I was stuck in Friday evening traffic on Los Angeles' Beverly Boulevard, inching my way between red lights. My divorce had been finalized a few days prior, and while the decision had been peaceable, the residual feeling was still one of defeat.

Suddenly, I felt a rush of dopamine. I spied from my car a benchmark of midcentury modernism: the Papa Bear Chair, perched solo on a riser in the window of Modernica's furniture showroom. Designed in 1951 by Hans Wegner, a hero in Danish Modernism, it's a celebration of curves and cantilevered armrests. I had to have it.

In my pursuit of retail therapy, I wedged it in my car and wrangled it up two flights of stairs. Then, together, we sat in my living room among potted plants and a high-low mix of vintage finds. I dubbed it "The Divorce Chair," a symbol of my own resilience and Scandi heritage.

The DC and I had a solid relationship until 2018, when I started to experience a fizzy burning in my lower back and right leg. My doctor deduced it was sciatica, a painful irritation of the sciatic nerve that radiates from your back, through your pelvis and down the back of each leg. She instructed me to get an MRI and start doing Pilates.

"If you have lower back issues, lounge chairs aren't great because they tilt your pelvis forward into flexion, irritating any herniated discs or pinched nerves in the lumbar region," said Sara Shay Gold, a Pilates and movement practitioner in Los Angeles who taught me about anatomy, alignment and the power of boring stretches (morning and night).

I quickly turned my home office into a master class in ergonomics. But come evening, I'd slink into my living room chair to watch TV, and the final frontier in my battle against back pain became clear. After years of squirming, it was time to divorce the Divorce Chair.

I learned the correct sitting position to alleviate back pain is fairly upright, with your feet flat on the floor -- neither of which sounds relaxing. "I always tell my patients not to let their bottom sink lower than their knees," said Davide Hickey, a registered chiropractor in Longford, Ireland, who has worked with pro athletes, Rihanna and yours truly.

I needed something akin to a club chair or Chesterfield. I considered the boxy leather and chrome Le Corbusier LC2, thinking I'd snag one in a vintage store and recover it in a wide-wale corduroy. But when I sampled it in a hotel lobby, I found the back too low and the seat far less encompassing than that of my prized DC.

After attending a design show in Copenhagen, I settled on the Puffy Lounge Chair. Made by Swedish brand Hem with London furniture designer Faye Toogood, the chair features a square tubular-steel frame with a taut, canvas-style sling. A duvet that recalls a pack of sausages drapes over the arms and seat.

Lalle Gustafson, Hem's head of product development, confirmed the Puffy is more club than lounge chair, with a higher back than the LC2. A fellow back-pain sufferer, he divulged that he often spends hours answering emails from his own Puffy Lounge Chair. That certainly persuaded me.

I selected a chocolate-brown frame with a cream bouclé duvet, then did the minor assembly required upon delivery. The verdict: Yes, it's structured, but the seat feels like a hug. I've retrained my neural pathways, sitting with my feet flat on the floor (irritatingly difficult) or on a low stool so my knees stay below my butt. As for the Divorce Chair, I haven't fully consciously uncoupled; it's shoehorned into my guest bedroom, reimagined as a spendy dog bed.

Disclaimer: What has been a panacea for me and my back might not be for you and yours. Finding your next significant other when it comes to chairs can be a lengthy pursuit, but, I promise you, so heartening.

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(END) Dow Jones Newswires

December 10, 2024 13:15 ET (18:15 GMT)

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