OPINION
Why you only buy sofas from people you trust
I have no doubt that there are some people who enjoy buying furniture. I, unfortunately, am not one of them. The masochistic experience of traipsing round furniture stores sitting on one sofa after another is not my idea of a good time. However, sometimes needs outweigh desires.
Our existing sofa is a stylish grey masterpiece that has brought joy to our living space for a blissful twelve years
Its plush felt cushions have provided a comfortable backdrop for countless movie nights and lazy Sunday afternoons. The backrest is the perfect height to lean your arm on, and ideal for resting an electronic device at eye level. The armrest is made for balancing a cup of tea.
But alas, time took its toll, as it always does. We inevitably spilled wine on it. Our son puked on it. A relative who shall remain nameless had an “accident” on it. We acquired a dog who chewed a hole in the seat cushion — and just like that, our once-perfect sofa was at the end of its lifespan.
And so, the time came to bid farewell to our faithful companion and embark on the quest for a worthy successor. Armed with a clear vision of what we desired, we scoured websites and contacted stores in search of the perfect sofa, only to be met with disappointment. When we asked where we could see a display model, the answer was invariably “three hundred miles away” or “online only”.
This left us with two choices: purchase a less-than-ideal sofa from one of the numerous stores we had reluctantly visited, or order online relying on digital photographs and blind faith. We chose the latter.
This was no impulse purchase, but the end-point of a long journey fraught with obstacles. Why can’t we have that sofa in this fabric? Will it fit up the stairs? Is there a matching footstool and why is it not the same height as the sofa? What idiot designer decided that the footstool need not open up for storage?
Seconds before pressing the Buy button, my husband made me get out of bed in the freezing cold to assist him in measuring the room one last time. It was 11.40pm and we had to order by midnight to secure our desired delivery date.
Does everyone agonise over their big purchases to this extent?
Yet, even as we await its impending arrival, doubts persist. Will our new sofa blend seamlessly into our home décor, or will it stand out like a sore thumb, a constant reminder of our misguided choice? More importantly: Will it be comfortable? Given that our previous sofa lasted twelve years, we could be stuck with less-than-ideal seating arrangements for quite some time.
This quandary raises an important point with regard to the high stakes involved in furniture purchases — particularly when it comes to large, expensive items that are expected to endure for years to come. A mistake in selection could have far-reaching consequences, impacting our daily lives and comfort for the foreseeable future.
How, then, are we meant to ensure that our decisions are sound?
Steve Jobs once famously proclaimed “A brand is simply trust”.
In the realm of consumerism, trust serves as the bedrock upon which our decisions are built. We trust that the products we purchase will deliver on their promises of durability, comfort and style. Moreover, our trust extends beyond the product itself to the retailer’s commitment to customer satisfaction and quality assurance.
This leads, naturally, to a consideration of social proof. “If lots of people are buying their sofas here, they must be good sofas!” we think. Then we measure, and measure again in our dressing gowns at nearly midnight, then enter our credit card details and pray we’ve made the right decision.
Thus we await the arrival of our new sofa, hoping our trust has not been misplaced.
The true test will come when it arrives and we settle down on it for the first time. Will it meet our expectations? Only time will tell.
As for the old sofa, my father has claimed its cushions to use while lying on the floor; a smart move since it means he doesn’t need to think about replacing his own sofa at all.
