The good, the bad and the lumpy
- Laura Moore: Housebroken
- August 13, 2024
- 477
About a year ago, our old comfortable couch had the worn, weary look of a battle-scarred veteran and desperately needed R&R (recovering or replacement).
The estimates from a few upholsterers were more than that old couch had cost brand new, so we decided to buy a new one.
Buying a new couch isn’t as easy as it sounds. First, we had to get past the first hurdle: sticker shock. New couch prices had risen in price to more than we had expected. Next, we were told to decide on what kind of statement we wanted our new couch to make. Statement? “Yes” we were told, “Couches make strong statements about your taste and style.” We had no idea.
This was too much. We didn’t want an opinionated piece of furniture. We wanted something comfortable to sit on. To our dismay, we learned all couches now make statements, whether we like it or not.
After much agonizing, we chose a lovely, well-bred-looking couch in the hope its statements would be delivered in a thoughtful, quiet manner. They weren’t.
No sooner than that couch was delivered, it began to voice its opinions. It disliked the color of the walls, the design of the rug and the condition of the old chairs sitting beside it. It stated categorically its aversion to children and pets. It was quickly returned.
Our next selection was a plain, rather plump, overstuffed couch with lots of fat pillows and fabric the color of our dog. It moved in between our old chairs without complaint, and it seemed to like the rug.
We soon realized our new couch was a bit dull and very lazy. It couldn’t make statements about taste or style because, even if it did know what they were, it didn’t care. All it ever managed to do was be comfortable. We loved that couch.