When was it that sofas became such a part of the family that we began giving them names?
Adverts for DFS or Sofology or Dunelm no longer talk about a mahogany three-seater with rayon upholstery, instead they just say the Lancelot, or the Heidi, or the George.
And, the weird thing is, it is still possible to know exactly what that sofa will be like, just by its name.
The Lancelot will be a big statement piece; shiny white leather; thrusting; egotistical.
The Heidi will be a bouncy little two-seater; fresh and fun; like sitting in an alpine meadow.
The George will be solid and traditional; wooden frame with dark brown cushions, and a pipe on a stand.
My own sofa was bought second-hand from Oxfam. It is predominately grey with a drab floral print. It sags to the right where the springs have collapsed, and its trim has been sucked into the vacuum cleaner too many times to retain its integrity. I cover it with a fabric throw, not for protection, but out of shame.
I give you the Ian.
© Beery Sue
Beery Sue takes the weight off her feet.