BRIANA: Wicker furniture was big up until the late ’70s, and then it seemed to be relegated to the backyard. Now it’s making its way back indoors, too. (Peep this wicker headboard and bedside table. Double trouble!) Are you pro-wicker furniture or do you think all this rattan looks ratty? Talk to me, people.
LILI: This is only okay in a sunroom. And maybe not even then. I think of the wicker patterns smashed into the backs of my thighs as a kid and shudder at the memory. Furniture should never hurt you!
MARIANNE: My grandmother used to make me repaint her wicker porch furniture every summer and I’ve held a grudge against it ever since. To add insult to injury, it’s just not that comfortable. I will admit I almost bought that exact headboard for my daughter’s room, but then all I could think about was it catching on my curly hair during story time. No thank you!
JESSICA: I have fond memories of tearing apart every piece of wicker furniture that was ever near me. I would pull off a piece and just tear it to shreds – hours of entertainment for Baby Jessica. And probably revenge for how often my curly hair would get caught in it. Don’t do it, Marianne. Kids never forget.
KAYLA: Briana, you sure picked a pretty picture to try and change all the anti-wicker-er’s minds! I say no. Just no. My legs can’t handle the pain!
ALYSSA: When I first considered this, I was adamantly against having wicker anywhere indoors — period. Then I remembered I had a chocolate brown wicker loveseat in my room as a late teen. My bedroom had a shabby chic vibe to it then, and I was sorta in love with the look and by association, that loveseat. Though I must admit, even despite a thick cushion on top and a tall reading lamp beside it, I rarely used that space — wicker is just not comfy.
KELLEY: Maybe it’s because I’m a southern girl, but I love wicker. Not the bad throne chairs a la Pier One 1975, but old-fashioned porch wicker. In fact, I have a collection I’m in the process of painting a variety of pastels – yellow, apple, violet – to go on my new screened porch. I’ll be topping them with pillows in florals and tribal prints (the more sparkly, the better). Y’all come over for a sweet tea!
DAVID HAYNES: Back in the last millennium when I was in high school, I worked at a Pier 1, and we sold about a million of those “king chairs.” I’m thinking the lion’s share went into first apartments and dorm rooms. But what was once exotic is now kitschy. I still think they’re kinda fun, given just the right context. Pair one with an 8-foot Schefflera plant in your sunroom and prepare to hold court. Parrot and panama hat not included.
(BTW, anybody remember when David Letterman used to make up random catchphrases just to see if they would catch on? One of my favorites: “Whaddaya want? Wicker!?” That one failed to set the world on fire.)
KELLEY: David! That’s exactly the chair I meant when I said “throne chair” – LOL! I have visions of my elementary school-BFF’s older brother, sitting in his king chair under a black light poster. I can’t get past it. Or the Aerosmith he was listening to at the time.
KELLEY: Absolutely no irony there.
JACKIE MCGILVRAY: I didn’t know they were called king chairs either – I always thought they were called Morticia Addams chairs…
CAMILLE: I agree – most wicker is not comfy – but we had one of these bad boys in our basement family room when I was a kid and my brother and I would fight over who got to do their homework in it:
DAVID HAYNES: That would be the papasan chair, still available at your Pier 1. (Suddenly I realize I have way too much information on this stuff.)
You’ve heard us whine about wicker, now tell us what YOU think: