Nothing compares to the enjoyment of a perfectly comfortable – and dog-proof – lounge. Photo: Zoe Cartwright.
My husband and I made a life-changing purchase this week – a new lounge.
Technically it’s secondhand, but it’s new to us, and as used floor stock a pretty good bargain to boot.
It might not seem like a big deal, but the quest to find this new lounge has taken us more than a year.
Our previous one carked it when an overenthusiastic, 30 kg dog decided to perform an athletic routine in our living room that culminated with a spectacular leap, at speed, onto the couch.
This resulted in a worrying snapping sound coming from deep inside the upholstery, and an alarming tendency to bow in towards the middle.
It was the final nail in the coffin for that particular lounge, which I cherished a deep and irrational hatred of.
In appearance it was not dissimilar to The Simpsons’ iconic old brown sofa, particularly after the dog athletics incident.
The back and seating cushions were all unattached, which may be better for cleaning but is a nightmare to actually sit on. Some essential cushion or another was perpetually sliding out of reach, or threatening to overflow from the confines of its designated area and push you off entirely.
It was made of a special kind of fabric with an incredible ability to pick up, hold onto and show up every shade of hair and speck of dust or dirt.
A wash of the removable cushion covers and enthusiastic vaccuum had no visible effect on the thin layer of detritus absorbed by its gravitational pull.
There was really very little to say in its defence other than that it was a lounge and you could sit on it, and if those are your only criteria for a piece of furniture I suppose you could say it did its job well.
After our first foray into lounge shopping we realised it actually did its job even better than some models available for truly eye-watering prices.
Cloud-shaped monstrosities with built-in phone chargers and electric recliners on every seat but very little actual comfort seemed to be the watchword at every shop we went to.
You have a better chance of finding a lounge that can be programmed by AI to adjust the headrest to the precise angle that will best support your doom-scrolling than you do of finding something to sit on comfortably without any added electronics.
Disheartened, we tried some secondhand stores, thinking at least we wouldn’t have to navigate couches more technologically advanced than our TV.
We were right on this count, but sadly the wares on display swung wildly to the other end of the spectrum. Truly depressing sofas that had seen better days and were plastered with unidentifiable stains made up most of the offerings.
After several weekends of this, we gave up. At least our sad lounge wouldn’t cost us any money, was already in our house, and probably didn’t track our data.
Just when we had resigned ourselves to living the Simpsons aesthetic, Facebook Marketplace delivered.
A clean, comfy sofa in a basic, easy-to-clean fabric. No unattached cushions. No weird electronic add-ons. No strange cloud shapes.
We went to check it out, and it was comfy and spacious enough to lie down on, but small enough to fit comfortably in our living room.
Importantly, it felt sturdy enough to withstand any repeats of dog aerobics.
When the seller offered to deliver we were sold.
I’d love for this to be a story about non-materialism, and how our new lounge comes with its own problems, but that would be a barefaced lie.
Our new lounge is fantastic. I feel a sense of satisfaction every time I look at it or sit on it. My everyday life has changed, measurably, for the better.
Now, is anyone looking to buy a brown sofa?
