I’ve spent a lifetime dealing in chairs and sofa and sofas. In the showrooms of Grosvenor, buying is about more than comfort. Couples step through the door, and they’re all searching for statement sofas the same thing. A retro armchair, delivers precisely what they’re after. I remember selling a Chesterfield to a gentleman from St John’s Wood, and the scars became part of the charm. That’s what endures. They flick through glossy catalogues, but eventually they realise.

Cheap wood snaps, whereas old chairs carry life. This city speaks through its homes. Kensington demands velvet, with deep seats. Hackney raw, with funky fabrics. That’s London. I’ve learnt over years, an armchair becomes memory. Modern factory pieces can’t compete. I still walk my warehouse floors, and the right piece never lies. Classic pieces endure. Before you make a mistake, think again. Find yourself a vintage sofa, and let it settle into your life.