From Discarded Office Furniture to Global Icon: The Chairs from Chandigarh Catching Attention!

In an ironic twist of cultural fate, Kourtney Kardashian famously incorporated at least a dozen original Chandigarh chairs into her Calabasas home, elevating them to celebrity status. Designed in the 1950s by Swiss-French architect Pierre Jeanneret for the utopian plan of Chandigarh, these teak‑and‑cane chairs were intended as durable seating for government employees and students. Initially relegated to storage and scrap in the 1980s and 1990s, they have since become prized collectables, with a pair fetching Rs. 6.64 lakhs at a Luxembourg auction last year. Today, these very pieces find themselves on auction podiums in Paris, New York and London—often commanding crores—far outstripping their humble origins in post‑Partition India.

From the spare offices of post-Partition India to the minimalist homes of the global elite, the chair’s trajectory encapsulates a paradox. It reveals how Indian modernist heritage, once discarded as mundane, gains cultural value primarily through international rebranding. And it forces us to confront uncomfortable questions about preservation, identity, and the commodification of design.

Designed for Democracy, Left for Dead

The Chandigarh chair emerged from India’s post-Independence vision of progress. When Jawaharlal Nehru entrusted Le Corbusier with the development of Chandigarh, he imagined it as a city that would symbolise modernity and order. As part of this grand architectural project, Pierre Jeanneret was brought on to design the city’s furniture—functional, affordable, and aligned with the Brutalist aesthetic of the time.

Jeanneret’s designs were built with indigenous materials like teak and cane, characterised by simplicity, durability, and a certain understated elegance. Their clean lines and V-shaped legs served practical needs while subtly embodying a new, postcolonial visual language. These chairs weren’t made for display but for everyday use in government offices, libraries, and academic institutions.

However, by the 1980s and 1990s, the utilitarian furniture began to be viewed as outdated. Indian public institutions favoured newer materials like plastic and stainless steel, equating modernity with shinier, more industrial alternatives. In Chandigarh, hundreds of Jeanneret-designed chairs were removed, replaced, or discarded entirely. Some were stashed away in storage units; others were sold as scrap or burned to clear space.

There was little recognition then of the cultural or design significance these pieces held. The very institutions that had benefited from this democratic design ethos now saw the furniture as obsolete remnants of a bygone era. In this vacuum of awareness, foreign dealers and collectors began to take an interest, quietly acquiring pieces through salvage or questionable exports.

What India dismissed as bureaucratic bric-a-brac was suddenly being lauded abroad as a symbol of mid-century modern sophistication.

The Global Fetish and the Indian Disavowal

As Western tastes began to favour minimalist and Brutalist aesthetics, the Chandigarh chair became a desirable artefact in international design circles. Its raw materials, geometric lines, and honest construction made it a perfect fit for the emerging global trend of ‘authentic’ interiors. Interior designers and luxury homeowners from Los Angeles to Copenhagen began featuring the chair in their curated spaces.

By the mid-2010s, its status had reached iconic levels. The chair appeared in art galleries, was listed in high-end auction catalogues, and was even photographed in celebrity homes. In the Kardashian residence, for example, the chair became part of a carefully cultivated image of globalised minimalism. This kind of mainstream visibility accelerated its desirability and, consequently, its price.

Within India, however, the response remained divided. For some, the chair’s global resurgence sparked pride. It offered a rare example of Indian design that had been internationally validated. Yet for others, it highlighted a glaring inconsistency—how little value India itself had placed on preserving its own modernist heritage until it was reintroduced through a Western lens.

This discrepancy underscored deeper issues of cultural valuation. In many Indian design schools and public conversations, the legacy of figures like Jeanneret and Le Corbusier was still marginalised, overshadowed by colonial nostalgia or post-liberalisation consumer culture. The Chandigarh chair’s newfound fame abroad created a market for originals, replicas, and restorations, but often with little engagement with the historical and social contexts from which it emerged.

In metropolitan India, the chair began to resurface in elite homes, boutique studios, and upscale cafés. It became a shorthand for cultural awareness and refined taste—a subtle nod to globalised, postcolonial sensibilities. Yet this revival was largely aesthetic, sometimes detached from the egalitarian philosophy that had shaped the chair’s original purpose.

For design enthusiasts seeking to incorporate the iconic Chandigarh chair into their interiors, several brands offer high-quality reproductions that honour Pierre Jeanneret's original vision. Afday presents a rendition crafted from solid teakwood, featuring the signature V-shaped legs and natural cane weave. This chair seamlessly blends form and function, making it a statement piece for dining areas or offices. Kridva offers a version, constructed with teakwood and natural rattan, complemented by high-density PU foam cushioning. Its melamine spray polish finish adds a touch of elegance, making it a comfortable and inviting seating option.

A Contested Inheritance and the Rise of Replicas

While the chair soared in value abroad, Chandigarh became the site of contested cultural ownership. Conservationists and heritage advocates began raising alarms about the unchecked export and auction of public furniture. Efforts were made to catalogue remaining pieces, and some local authorities introduced guidelines to regulate what could be sold or salvaged. However, these efforts were met with varying levels of success, constrained by bureaucratic inertia and lack of enforcement.

In response to both demand and scarcity, a thriving replica industry began to take shape in cities like Mumbai, Jaipur, and Bengaluru. Local artisans and furniture designers started recreating Jeanneret-inspired pieces, sometimes staying faithful to original blueprints, and at other times introducing modern tweaks. These replicas, often made using sustainable materials and contemporary construction techniques, made the Chandigarh chair more accessible to Indian consumers.

In the process, the chair was reinvented once more—not as forgotten office furniture or expensive heritage item, but as a flexible design template. Interior stylists in India began pairing the chairs with rattan daybeds, concrete counters, and exposed brick walls, repurposing the original aesthetic for urban living. In curated homes and editorial photo shoots, the chair now functioned as a visual cue—signalling that the homeowner appreciated both history and design.

This shift also carried its own complications. Replicas blurred the lines between homage and commodification. For many Indian buyers, purchasing a Jeanneret-style chair was more about lifestyle than legacy. It evoked a sense of design literacy, of belonging to a global aesthetic elite. Yet the deeper story—the chair’s symbolic role in nation-building, its abandonment, and its international repurposing—was often overlooked.

In Chandigarh itself, some artisans and restorers began trying to reframe the chair’s legacy. They called for greater public engagement with the city’s design history, organised workshops, and advocated for government support in preserving original pieces. While these efforts remain nascent, they mark a slow but meaningful shift towards local reclamation of the narrative.

For those desiring a more contemporary twist to their living or working spaces with these chairs, Urban Ladder's Chandigarh Lounge Chair, features angular tapered legs in a dark oak finish and printed upholstery, blending nostalgia with modernist vision. Home Canvas offers a classic yet contemporary design, handcrafted from solid wood with an inverted V leg design and natural cane woven seat and backrest. Additionally, House of Woodworm provides a traditional cane chair with cushion seating, praised for its solid woodwork and sturdy rattan cane back, adding a touch of class to any space.

Beyond the Hype, Towards Responsibility

The Chandigarh chair stands today as more than just a design object—it is a palimpsest of India’s modernist dreams, its cultural blind spots, and its evolving relationship with heritage. Its journey from discarded public furniture to multimillion-rupee auction darling is a story of transformation, but also one of irony and neglect.

As India continues to grapple with questions of identity, design, and global perception, the chair offers an instructive case study. It reveals how cultural value can be both constructed and reclaimed, how objects can carry histories even when their meaning is forgotten.

For the Chandigarh chair to have a meaningful future in India, it must be situated not merely as a fashionable artefact but as a living reminder of a formative moment in the country’s postcolonial history. This means recognising the work of local artisans, investing in preservation, and fostering public appreciation for homegrown design legacies—before they need to be re-imported to be respected.