DtmF and the Monobloc Chairs

Benito really created the album of the year and a trip down memory lane..

DtmF (meaning: I should’ve taken more photos—for the gringas and gringos among us, aka me?) has been in my ears consistently since its release in January. Along with the album came its much-talked-about cover, which instantly sparked reactions from fans worldwide. Not only is the album insanely good (I’m listening to it while writing this), but it also reminds me why chairs—yes, chairs again—are one of the most significant pieces of furniture in a home.

Social media quickly filled with homages to the beloved Monobloc chairs and the memories shared on them. For many—especially those with dual heritage—these chairs hold deep significance. Returning to the motherland, sitting in the humid air, hearing family members talk, absorbing their words—it’s a feeling you don’t forget. In interviews after the album’s release, people spoke about seeing past relatives in these chairs, imagining them sharing hidden family stories while sitting in the same worn seats.

Recently, I started using my late grandfather’s video recorder—his pride and joy, which I feel honoured to have. While checking for free space, I stumbled upon an old video: my granddad, in our family home, sitting on a plastic chair, eating peanuts, and talking to my then-baby cousin. Like the album, it transported me back to childhood summers, to moments I hadn’t realised I missed so much.

For many, these chairs symbolise conversations with loved ones—memories held in simple plastic seats. When I saw the album cover, I was instantly sent back two winters, visiting my best friend as we travelled through Panama. We ended up in a random town, at a roadside bar with locals, talking about life and the state of the world, all while sitting on Monobloc chairs, with a football game playing in the background. That night led to a spontaneous trip to his holiday home, where I learned to surf. All because we sat, talked, and connected.

This isn’t a walk down my memory lane—it’s a reminder that we often overlook how small, mundane things hold deep meaning. Puerto Rican rapper PJ Sin Suela put it perfectly: “They are universal chairs and accessible to everyone. These chairs are more than chairs.” And I couldn’t agree more. Chairs have always been more than chairs to me; they are woven into the fabric of our everyday lives, carrying stories, laughter, and history.

Think of the significant conversations, the words shared in those moments. Chairs hold more than just our bodies; they cradle our memories.

I’m excited that Monobloc is getting its well-deserved flowers. The stories people have shared under the DtmF sound have made me well up more than once—all sparked by a cover featuring two chairs and the obvious amazing songs.

So here’s to Monobloc chairs, Bad Bunny, and, while we’re at it, that Calvin Klein campaign.

Instead of a new playlist, I’m just resharing Benito’s album. My favourite? “Baile Inolvidable”—manifesting those lyrics being whispered in my ear this summer.

Stay cozy,
Denise