Look at that weird, sexy sofa with its skinny brass legs.
You want to hate it. So rigid. So stern! But it taunts you. Look how long it is, how it invites you to stretch the whole way out on its gently quilted surface. Look how proud and eccentric and decidedly unfrumpy it is. Imagine the fabulous dinner parties you never throw where your friends are shocked and then envious of your iconic sofa. Look at those sexy little legs, and imagine how easy it would be to get your vacuum under there. (Priorities.)
Fine - it's not my favorite sofa. But it is really weird and interesting and good-looking. It's definitely not one of these things. It is beautiful and unique and like that maybe gaudy brass bed from the last post, the more I look, the more I like what I see.
Oh, yeah, and it's ten thousand dollars.
Then there's this beauty:
The color is "asphalt" and the wood is black walnut, and it's a collaboration piece between Craft Associates Furniture and The Swanky Abode. It's also unusual and striking and the opposite of frumpy.
And, you know, only nine thousand dollars.
Sofas are ugly. Decidedly un-sexy. And if they happen to squeak by as neither of the two previous adjectives then they cost, well, more than I could ever spend on couch. Case in point, that gorgeous dark grey number up top, which I found on a blog called st8mcm. I don't know what the price was but I don't need to know the exact number to know that I can't afford it. Below that are the lovely Bantam sofa on the left, and the mostly respectable Brady to the right. At $3,300 and $1,500 respectively, we're getting better, but still.
Maybe it's a stupid thing to be dead set on, but if I have to spend money on a couch, I just can't accept that it's going to be a hideous lump of a thing. And worse yet, a lump of a thing we might move into our next abode, which might be one we finally own. I am willing to settle, but only so much.
It's been a discouraging search, as I'm sure you can imagine. But we've discovered at least one gem of a consignment store, which gives me hope. I'm also not above the notorious Ikea hack, but after tallying up the costs of the leg upgrade and tufting, I'm just not sure I'm willing to spend something like $700 on what is ultimately still a poorly made Ikea sofa. I'm willing to be a little bit patient, but Kai will only sit on our hard wooden kitchen chairs for so long.
So keep your fingers crossed for me, friends. We are getting keys tomorrow and will be armed with measuring tape; then the real fun begins.