Friday, 11 March 2016

Sofa Searching

Home, they say, is where the heart is, or where you hang your hat.  in my case it's where the cat and random decorative clutter gathers to collect dust bunnies by candle light.   apparently seeing a person's home can give insight into their upbringing and personality but if that's so how come my sister is a committed monochrome minimalist and i live in the equivalent of a westernised Aladdin's cave?   can deep mysteries of the psyche be teased out from our choice of decor or are we more influenced by culture, peer acceptance and society than by a subconscious need to expose our innermost secrets through home improvement?   

That most of my teens and early twenties were lived in hippie squats and flats could be deduced by the preponderance of glitter and sparkle on the walls if it weren't for the fact that at 13, long before i'd laid eyes on a summer of love child, i had utilised a sheet of wrapping paper depicting a psychedelic Wurlitzer as a poster on a bedroom wall and hung lace and velvet shawls around a mirror. and this was years before experiencing hallucinogens first hand.  so did that embryonic style act as an attraction to hippiedom or did hippiedom entrench the style that has followed me for the past 4 decades? 

There's no template for making a house a home.... or there shouldn't be.   yet the full page, glossy adverts in magazines or on TV would have you believing otherwise.   DFS,  Furniture Village et al. have products scarily alike, row upon row of cloned soft furnishings, freakishly familiar to the massed armies of Star Wars storm troopers all blending into a homogeneous mass.  world domination by three piece suite !!   mass produced furniture for mass produced homes, lived in by mass produced humans seems to be their aim. 

This thread of rumination has been triggered by a futile search to find a replacement for a £30 threadbare, lumpy, charity shop sofa.   the beautiful wave backed wicker that was digested by the removal van when moving here was regurgitated later the same day onto the grass at the front of new home  and left in glorious abandonment.... doorway too small.   even son's heroic efforts were in vain.   off came the door, still stuck was the sofa, gutted was i.   

Various internet searches for "funky furniture" have thrown up some amazing velvet patchwork confections that look stunning but how to know if they are as sweet on the bum and back as they are on the eye? this is where the big box furniture outlets have us at their mercy, we need to try before we buy.

So here's the predicament when one is out of step with the mainstream. do i buy something that fits my nature and is unusual but maybe uncomfortable or do i follow faithfully in the steps of the crowd to be certain of a soft seat?   


Anonymous said...

Anneanne here. Favourite ever sofa was an enormous red corduroy-covered corner one from Ikea. I realise it's very much mainstream but the fact of it being both bright red and so snuggly it was almost unbearable won over all other considerations! Suspect you might be able to find a smaller version with the same covering if that appealed. (It was also very, extremely comfy) x

Anonymous said...

We could try your charity shop again, next week :-) Sue xx

brokenbutstillstanding62 said...

that sounds lovely. wish i could still get into and out of a bean bag !!!

brokenbutstillstanding62 said...

oooh yes please