Dear God, We Bought A Couch

FINALLY. Hallelujah Haysus!

Purchasing a new couch has been a trial two years in the making. Currently, the couch and chair in our Milwaukee living room are gorgeous wood cane pieces from the early 20th century that we found at an auction in upstate New York. Since the former and hideous leather couch went to the Manhattan apartment's new owner (Hallelujah Haysus again!), we've had to make do with these. As beautiful as they are, they are straight up not fun to sit in.

One early January morning, as I laid across the couch (total length: 60 inches), I realized not only could I not feel my legs (due to the extreme fetal position I was forced into), a ginormous lump was rudely punching my left kidney in the gut. 

The offender? A coil spring. Super.

Clearly, these pieces needed reupholstering, refinishing and a good spanking before they should be allowed to embarrass us in front of company. I relayed this to Jon only to receive a peal of insane, hysterical laughter and the view of his rear end as he walked out of the room shaking his head. Apparently, I was the only one concerned with our furniture's reputation. Typical.

This gave me flashbacks to my previous attempts in New York at ridding 'us' of the leather abomination. I may have subtly tried to damage the old leather couch in hopes that Jon would realize we "absolutely could not continue living like this - we have standards!" (What? Just a few scratches in conspicuous spots, nothing serious.) Jon's reaction when I would, utterly shocked, point them out? "Those scratches? The couch came like that. That 'lived-in' look." Hmph.

But finally - the coil spring, evidence for the prosecution! The defense conceded a loss! Hallelujah Haysus a third time! I was finally and legally allowed to go shopping. Try and stop me!

I began my research and stated that I would not be purchasing anything from Ikea, Home Decorator's Collection, JC Penney, Craigslist, Salvation Army, etc., (though they have adorable options I have written about several times before). This is not our first, second, or even third home - it was time to man up and get a Real, Grown-Up Couch. One that wouldn't embarrass us in front of company. The mature kind. That would scold us and slap our hands for eating at the coffee table while watching television.

[I'm fairly positive this instantly terrified Jon into submission. Subsequent internal male brain conversation: What in God's name kind of couch is that?! I will not assist this endeavor other than testing out butt cushion comfort. Wife will not be questioned regarding any detail whatsoever. Commence Immediate Deafening Capabilities at all statements of word 'couch.']

We visited Ethan Allen, Crate and Barrel, Pottery Barn, Macy's, Boston Store, Williams Sonoma Home, Restoration Hardware. I researched fabrics in our price range, leg and skirt options, down cushion inserts, fabric warranties, delivery charges. Heck, I love this crap and even I was overwhelmed. How in Hades am I supposed to know what I'll like in 10 years, since Jon has determined that is the bare minimum this couch will live in our house? Weeks of hemming and hawing ensued.

And then, salvation by way of Jon's favorite word in the English language: CLEARANCE. With an additional 10% off yesterday only. The couch was purchased within 5 minutes of discovering it online (via Google Shopping - an incredible tool for comparing prices). Done and done.

 

Traditional English roll arm sofa with turned wooden legs and down cushions in a cotton blend fabric to maintain a more tailored look (linen, though soft, gets too rumpled for me). It is a massive 96" long and 37" deep. 

Looking a little like she needs a pair of earrings right now - colorful throw pillows to come at a future date when both Jon and I have amnesiaed the entire couch-buying process and price. Though frankly, I don't care if she grows a mustache and passes gas worse than Houston and Jon combined after a meal of pork tacos. She is here to stay. 

See you in 44 days, friend!