Sickly bow perched on reborn mid century dining chair

Kirk and I had an argument over this bow. It's our culture clash, you see. When I look at the bow, I see mother of pearl, perched upon the silhouette of a modern workhorse (the chair has been around 30 years or so - I picked it up eight weeks ago, removed the original dark green plaid fabric and recovered it in white vinyl). It is a beautiful representation I think, even though the specific items are far removed from the pedigree they replicate. Kirk observes the bow, and is disgusted. It's the 1980's solid state peavey amp of bow's he tells me. It's missing hair and rough hewn machine manufactured body are a disgrace, because the cello is a noble undertaking. A bow is not a guitar pick, I've learned today.