Wait… WHERE is the sofa?
Paul was out Saturday morning… but when he got home, it didn’t take him very long to say— wait… where is the sofa?
And I was like— I sold it! I told you: I AM SELLING EVERYTHING.
He said— yes… but… where will people sit?
And I said— on the floor! LOOK HOW SPACIOUS IT IS NOW THAT THERE IS NO SOFA!
Once upon a time, I bought the English Roll Arm sofa from Restoration Hardware… it was white, because I had temporarily taken leave of my senses and forgotten that I am someone who should never own a white sofa.
I bought it shortly after the living room and dining room were finished— rooms that had been so unlivable for so long, that the transformation was almost unbelievable.
And somehow, buying a brand-new, pristine sofa seemed to hold some deeper life-meaning… like maybe NOW I would start being the new/relaxed/better version of myself I’ve been meaning to get around to.
And apparently that version has a summer cottage on Nantucket… I would guess that she also has a lot of nautical-themed home-accents, wears trendy statement-jewelry to the beach, and does not care if her passel of dogs and children destroy everything… because she can afford to buy more.
This is the ultimate problem with trying to be someone else – YOU ARE STILL YOU.
It can be very inconvenient.
In reality, I am a very stern and unbending person who also enjoys ridiculously over-the-top ornamental objects but can only afford the broken-sort-of-crappy-ones.
My furniture should reflect this.
But at the time I was OBSESSED with this particular sofa… it’s a beautiful piece of furniture, it’s just that it’s NOT ME AT ALL!
And I should add that this was before the wardrobe and The Kingdom Mirror, so there was plenty of space for me being brainwashed by too many inspiration-photos-of-Nantucket-imaginary-lady-lifestyle.
Shortly after the living room was finished, I drove by a Restoration Hardware outlet… and as I walked in, they were bringing out the EXACT sofa I wanted!
In the moment, it was an easy choice.
It was still wrapped in the delivery plastic, because whoever ordered it failed to measure their space correctly. And it was ONLY $1,000. (Please use the word “only” in the loosest sense possible.)
“Only” seemed to apply because with tax and delivery, this sofa will run you close to $4,000 brand new… I have no idea who spends that on a sofa (—> says the woman eager to spend way more on something far less practical).
And can I just add that with the exception of Ikea, the price range for a large sofa is shockingly high, considering it’s basically some two-by-fours and foam.
But over time, I started to question spending so much money on something completely uninteresting and utterly non-GFT* (*Giant Fancy Thing)… especially as you can see, that there is NOTHING about this room now, that wants a sofa from Restoration Hardware.
Paul tried to make me feel better by pointing out that we DO genuinely need a place to sit… and that theoretically that seating should be comfortable… and that ALSO theoretically, that seating should not collapse under our guests… you know, just as a matter of courtesy.
But it didn’t matter… for me, once I am disillusioned with something, there is no re-illusioning.
I ended up seeing the sofa as a representation of my own failure to think rationally and critically… and it is not lost on me that I am applying those feelings to possibly the only purchase in this house that MOST people would feel was reasonable.
There was another element too: I began to see the purchase as uncomfortable evidence of my susceptibility to advertising… I was grouchy that I unwittingly participated in aspirational-internet-brainwashing.
Dedicating space in my house to a SOFA that could otherwise be used for SOMETHING FANCY = not what I am about.
Then, in what I presume was a move to rub salt in my wound, RH sent me a catalog equivalent to the weight of a small child… any company that sends out 20 pounds of paper for you to throw in your recycling bin are pretentious asses, no matter how good their visual design team is.
Also, yes FINE. There is the tiny detail of how I knew I could sell it for significantly more than I paid and how I need money for the mystery GFT.
And now I am going to be really serious for a few paragraphs and try to rectify what I see as a horrible moral failing on my part.
I have real anxiety about telling you this, because I think you are entitled to judge me as unbelievably ignorant: after I got the sofa home, I realized that the cushions were wrapped with a down layer around the foam.
I cannot overstate my horror.
Down (and any fur product!) are atrocious torture for the animals… and somehow I managed to support this barbaric practice.
If you’re unfamiliar with this heartbreaking industry, I hope you’ll take a minute to educate yourself… here is a very brief overview… there is also a short, two-minute video that I hope you’ll consider watching. Is it easy to watch? No. It is horrible… But if we allow ourselves to turn away because our feelings are inconvenient, this unspeakable life of misery for these animals will continue.
So! Sofa! Let’s recap:
1. not a GFT.
2. made out of morally-abhorrent material.
Girl, no. Bye.
I’ve rearranged the furniture, and because I am so prepared a hoarder, I have enough chairs in this house to seat a small army. Maybe even a medium-sized one. So I am not necessarily in a hurry to replace it.
Although– SURPRISE! There is a sofa on Craigslist that I’ve been watching.
I actually went to look at it and I did really like it, but I could not come to an agreement on price with the seller because she does not realize that I am the ONLY person who will buy the thing from her because:
A– it is horribly uncomfortable, and
B– everyone I’ve showed a photo of it to has said something to the extent of: that is really hideous… by which I assume they mean glorious awesomeness that they will be jealous of.
If I could have gotten it for a REALLY good price, I would have bought it; but right now my priorities are not seating… I have one goal: put all money towards Arkansas fund.
I also looked at this sofa because it is fairly inexpensive at $500, and matches the ottoman, but then I was like, ummm hello? Is that a GFT? No. It is not. SO I DO NOT NEED TO BUY IT.
see all my favorite Craigslist finds
Olive
March 12, 2016 @ 10:01 pm
You are thin. And it looks effortless!
syndi
March 14, 2016 @ 12:40 pm
“This is the ultimate problem with trying to be someone else – YOU ARE STILL YOU. It can be very inconvenient.”
You’ve hit the nail on the head! It’s nice to get inspiration from so many blogs and Pinterest, but you have to remember who you are… I’ve learned to take FOREVER to make choices for my home, but in the end I’m pretty happy with them. The snail speed can get under my skin at times, but patience always pays off: art is my next big thing. So take your time and get what you REALLY want. You’re friends can use your assortment of chair in the meantime. Good luck.
Maria
April 19, 2016 @ 9:17 pm
I think I’m with the minority that love that ottoman. In fact, I covet it! But I agree it doesn’t belong with the rest of your furnishings and it should go. >_<
Abby Bean
February 28, 2017 @ 12:01 pm
Thank you for being fabulous and mindful at the same time!
Deb Lindsley
February 28, 2017 @ 2:26 pm
I love your RH sofa too. I had to laugh about being suckered in by the Nantucket cottage/sea washed beach look; so romantic, tranquil, clean, at one with nature…I’m there, living that life, aahh…extremely unpleasant snap back to reality…mud every day 4am and 6:30pm, ditto food and drink spills, cat hair, chicken feathers, wood shavings, hair dyes, drywall and concrete dust. Apparently I’m the only one who sees these things.
You’ve got wonderful taste. Even though you have to buy old, broken, crappy things, oftentimes in pieces, you and Paul have the vision and skill to bring them back to life. I say Wow! I like that ottoman and the couch. The only place I could see either working for me is in a private place like a bedroom or sitting room, away from my hubby.
I bought a white sofa and love seat with denim slipcovers. They reflect the secret, incognito, disguised me. I know deep down in my heart that someday I’ll be able to whip off that denim and–voila! The Transformation! A new life perfectly suited to white couches will begin! Only in my dreams.
I once had a visitor comment that I could paint a piece of furniture and make it look just like new (it was new). I stared at her in confusion…why would I want something that looked new? I would feel pain over every bump, scrape and spill and think about how much it cost and what it’s worth now. No, the real me likes not to worry, likes to cozy into the corner of the couch with books or laptop, likes to leave the doors and windows open all summer, likes dogs, cats, chickens, plants, likes a fire in the fireplace. The real me doesn’t want new.
I’m old and have spent a lifetime of buying old used stuff and moving old used stuff. I’ve learned my husband and I can no longer move BIG old used stuff. I gave it all away to my son and now try to remember I can’t buy it if I can’t move it. That’s hard! I can see a crisis in the future of Victoria Barnes! You can avert it by buying a forever home and getting all your GFT’s in their forever place (highly recommended). Or win the lottery so you can pay people to move the stuff.
Austin Storm
November 28, 2017 @ 2:23 pm
You are my spirit animal! You are living my best life! &cet, &cet