Back in grade school, did you ever have that science experiment where you mix corn starch and water until you had this weird goop that poured like a liquid and molded like a solid? That’s what the filling inside a Moon Pod reminds me of. It’s dense enough to hold up an adult, even a hefty adult, yet it’s light enough to pick up with one hand. It’s solid enough to support your posture but soft enough that you can sink into it and fall asleep.
I get this kind of furniture because I live in San Francisco and am not the CEO of any of the big corporations, hence my apartment is very small. It’s charming and all, easy to clean the place, but can get cramped. I also live upstairs, so the lighter my purchases weigh, the less I have to kill myself hauling them up flights of stairs. It’s bad enough that everywhere you walk here tends to be uphill already.
I’ve tried bean bags before but was less than thrilled with them. They’re easy to break and then you have little white polystyrene puffs leaking out to chase down and clean up. They tend to collapse into a bowl shape with your weight, so you’re never quite at ease on one lest you tumble off. They’re also difficult to clean, and a little bulkier to move around than you’d expect. Needless to say, the standard bean bag isn’t big enough to recline on.
Thus, I embarked on the purchase of a $400 luxury bean bag. The Moon Pod is actually a complete redesign of the concept, stuffed with that bizarre non-Newtonian filling that makes it more like a very firm pillow. It can be parked standing up or even tossed into a small coat closet when not in use, so you don’t have to trip over it. It’s efficient furnishing for hyper-efficient living.
But best of all, the part where it makes sense, is that the Moon Pod is big, measuring up to 56”x24”x24”. It’s big enough to stretch out on with just your legs off it. It changes shape easily for using a mobile or reading, watching TV, sitting up to eat, or conking out for a snooze. You get neck and back support with it, but it’s flexible enough to tilt yourself at any angle. I also got the Crescent, another $100, but that works great with the Moon Pod to make it into an easy-chair lounge configuration or take just the Crescent to bed to stay propped up while laying down. The Crescent is just the right size for this, a better option than trying to rebuild a backrest out of a dozen tiny throw pillows.
I mentioned that traditional bean bags are tough to clean. The Moon Pod comes with its own slipcover, a muted gray that goes with everything. The slipcover can be removed for machine-washing. It does fit tight, so that’s one thing to be aware of. It takes a bit of work getting it back on, but it zips up securely. On the whole, it’s the kind of design so efficient that it could be used in the military. I imagine in the event of a zombie apocalypse, you’d easily be able to snag the Moon Pod and run off with the other stuff you’re carrying. You’ll need it, it’s a good de-stressor whenever you get a chance to take a break.
One more aspect I can appreciate about the Moon Pod is that it’s pet-friendly, more importantly, rugged, so it’s pet-proof. I can happily report that my cat, who is not declawed, has so far not ripped this particular piece of furniture to shreds, unlike my futon. This is a minor feat of endurance because this cat is basically the Wolverine of the cat world.
The price tag is the biggest issue I hear with most buyers, but there are sales and discounts if you keep an eye out. It is indeed pricey for a bean bag but, on the other hand, it molds itself to replace several pieces of furniture that would be expensive too.