A cryptic message greeted me as I walked into RH (formerly Restoration Hardware) in the Meatpacking District: “We respect the hierarchy between architecture, furniture, and décor that creates harmony.” Such a mysterious little koan … “Hierarchy” and “harmony”? And what did they mean by architecture? A clue: This compound of iron and glass looks exactly like the electric car dealership across the street. The reason for my visit was dinner at their popular rooftop restaurant, but I felt compelled to remain in the showroom until I had successfully deciphered the enigmatic promise.
I had arrived early for my reservation and had plenty of time to test-drive the merchandise. I sat on a tawny velvet sectional so broad and deeply set it could sleep a family of four. There were armchairs resembling a Jeanneret scaled up about 30 percent. Everything was grossly comfortable, each piece suffering from bloat and distention. It was impossible to sit upright in any of the seats; I kept finding myself sliding into an unflattering slump. Waiting for my ta…