My world has always been the shop floor, the showroom, the warehouse. Amongst the squares and crescents, people don’t buy just to sit. Young men with new flats, and they’re looking for furniture that will outlast them. A battered old wingback, traditional armchairs never fails to speak up. There was a velvet sofa that went to a townhouse in Chelsea, and the scars became part of the charm. That’s what endures. They waste time with flat-pack, sofa vintage retro but sooner or later they return. Mass production doesn’t care, statement sofas whereas retro lives on.
Furniture mirrors the postcode. Belgravia looks for tradition, with mahogany accent pieces. Camden stays chaotic, with retro mismatches. That’s the reality. Here’s the truth, a sofa becomes family. Modern factory pieces can’t compete. I still touch the arms of the chairs, and the truth tells itself. Old furniture lives. Next time you flick through a catalogue, take a breath. Find yourself a vintage sofa, and see how it shapes your home.
Furniture mirrors the postcode. Belgravia looks for tradition, with mahogany accent pieces. Camden stays chaotic, with retro mismatches. That’s the reality. Here’s the truth, a sofa becomes family. Modern factory pieces can’t compete. I still touch the arms of the chairs, and the truth tells itself. Old furniture lives. Next time you flick through a catalogue, take a breath. Find yourself a vintage sofa, and see how it shapes your home.
