Vintage Armchairs, Accent Chairs, and Sofas: Proper Character for Real Homes I’ve always had a soft spot for old furniture. When I was a kid my nan had this battered armchair. The fabric was torn but held together, but it had heart. In the days of smoky pubs and jazz clubs, furniture meant something. Chairs lived longer than flats. It’s in the weight of the wood. I rescued a battered armchair from outside a shop in Peckham.
The legs were wobbling, but the weight told me it was the real deal. It’s carried me through late nights and lazy Sundays. Furniture in London shifts with the postcode. Belgravia keeps it polished, with velvet armchairs. Dalston keeps it cheeky, with mismatched sofas. It’s the mix that makes it all work. New furniture looks dead next to vintage. Retro pieces last decades. Every stain has a story. Truth be told, retro wins because it’s real. Furniture should live with you.
If you’re scrolling catalogue sites, stop and think of the markets. Choose a funky accent chair, and let it grow with you.
The legs were wobbling, but the weight told me it was the real deal. It’s carried me through late nights and lazy Sundays. Furniture in London shifts with the postcode. Belgravia keeps it polished, with velvet armchairs. Dalston keeps it cheeky, with mismatched sofas. It’s the mix that makes it all work. New furniture looks dead next to vintage. Retro pieces last decades. Every stain has a story. Truth be told, retro wins because it’s real. Furniture should live with you.
If you’re scrolling catalogue sites, stop and think of the markets. Choose a funky accent chair, and let it grow with you.