15% oFFwith promo codeEAMES15 Exclusive benefits tiered discounts and more! What our customers are saying about us... 7 Signs You Might be too Old for IKEAYou’ve done the long hours for low pay. You’ve put in your time and now things are starting to look like what you sort of imagined they would when you finally became a proper adult. This next part may be tough to hear: You are now probably too old for Ikea.I understand why it’s hard to process. Ikea was the place you went when you could finally afford to step it up from milk crate furnishing. You could shop for the living room and procure a two dollar dinner all in one spot. It was cheap, and there was so much of it on Craigslist. And, of course, in the end, you finally felt like you had... OUR RECENT CLIENTS INCLUDE: What's behind our high chair Ratings? High chair user reviews and provide valuable feedback to other members and our testers. High chair buying guide When it comes to selecting a high chair, try not to be overwhelmed by the choices on the market: there are literally dozens: classic or modern, wooden, plastic, or metal, among other options.
But the right high chair can help make feeding a hungry baby a lot more enjoyable for both of you. Here's what's to consider.Today's high chairs–whether they're made of wood, metal, or plastic--are loaded with features such as adjustable trays with dishwasher-safe inserts that make cleanup a cinch, seats that recline to multiple positions, and chair heights that accommodate your growing baby and give you flexibility to feed her at different levels.Regardless of the materials, you should look for high-chair safety features that include a crotch post; a safety-restraint system with a five-point harness; wheels that lock in place (or no wheels); and, when folding, chairs that won't scissor, shear, or pinch you or your little one's fingers.At a minimum, you'll want a stable, sturdy high chair that can stand up to heavy use, spills, and regular cleaning for at least a year. Although they're intended for children from infancy up to about three years (the typical top weight is 40 to 50 pounds), some babies can't bear to sit in one once they become adventurous toddlers.
Many high chairs now convert to toddler chairs when your child is ready to sit at the table with the rest of the family. You usually make the switch by removing the tray and adjusting the chair height so you can scoot your toddler right up to the table. That's a good thing because a regular kitchen or dining room chair will probably put your child at chin level to the table. Since you'll need some kind of transitional chair, you might as well get the most mileage from a high chair.When you think of nations at the fore of modern design, Canada hardly springs to mind. As far as everyone else is concerned, the country's greatest contributions to world culture are hockey and Strange Brew. Enter Bent Out of Shape, a new industrial design exhibit at the Design Exchange in Toronto. Featuring more than 400 objects and archival materials from the museum's permanent collection, it covers everything from post-war tea kettles and pimped-out rocking chairs to the plastic fantastic of expat Canuck Karim Rashid.
Bent Out of Shape—the name alone says it all; beaver hour's over, eh? While America was busy inventing the hydrogen bomb, Canada was making the world's first electric tea kettle. As useless then as it is now! At least the design, by Fred Moffatt, was cool—a big shiny dome, very much of the Atomic Age, and probably a lot sturdier than anything you can buy at Ikea. One of Canada's prominent early modern designers technically wasn't Canadian. Jacques Guillon was born in Paris then studied and worked in Montreal. His simple 1950 Cord Chair, show below, had a seat back made of nylon, an army surplus item—and hence an ideal design material—in the aftermath World War II. (Guillon himself worked as a pilot before attending architecture school.) After more than 40 years out of production, the chair was reissued by the Toronto manufacturer Avenue Road last year. Canada was a refuge for Scandinavian immigrants at the front end of the 20th century. Ergo Thor Hansen, a Danish emigre who became a prominent craft geek way before craft geekery was cool and produced a series of graphic fabrics based on Canadian foliage.
Here's Sunridge/Geese in Flight from the 1950s. Douglas Ball is one of Canada's most successful living industrial designers. Never heard of him? He has spent most his career cranking out "systems furniture"—the desks and cubicles and other workplace junk you never, ever notice. But back in the swinging '60s, he briefly flirted with pop design, creating this sunny lamp, called the Glo-Up. Here is William Lishman's 1976 interpretation of the classic 19th-century Thonet bentwood rocking chair. The thing is made out of metal, gah! Apparently, they gave it out on The Price is Right right alongside the toasters and the fridges and the four-poster beds and, let us hope, not instead of the free trip to Cabo. Here's a 1996 trash can by the prolific and eternally pink-suited Karim Rashid, Canada's flashiest design export. He studied in Ottawa, but was born in Egypt.) Curious that the curators chose to exhibit this, of all things; it has to be one of the tamest and—dare we say—most Canadian objects Rashid has tossed off over the years.
It's also probably the most recognizable. We have no idea what's Canadian about these, but they're pretty sweet. The Retrofit Balls, by Brad Turner, were inspired by the iconic 1960s Ball Chair. The new crop of designers is carving out a self-consciously Canadian aesthetic—both joking about national identity and paying homage to it. Case in point: Rob Southcott's United We Stand. Joined by wooden deer antlers, the seats are meant to "evoke the awareness that we can all use a little support from our neighbour." Or is he making fun? You didn't think we'd escape having at least one moose, did you? Check out this onsie from Toronto-based bookhou. The exhibit is done up in QR-coded wallpaper, so visitors can scan the walls with their mobile phones to get more info about the objects on hand. The wallpaper is designed by the Canadian firm Rollout. (Whom we recently featured here.) Here's the logo for the exhibit. We love how aggro it is—Canada gets bent out of shape!