I can’t help it, but sectional sofas remind me of parties with Hugh and perky leotards with bunny tails; days when their soul purpose was to fill the corners of an impossibly large living room, and cradle the tired faces of several someones who had enjoyed a very long liquid lunch.
Sadly, I never wore a bunny tail, but now I find myself wishing I had, and wondering if it is still too late? I have never seen it listed on a bucket list, but it seems like a very good contender for mine, and probably more attainable than climbing Mt. Everest or lining up the colors on a Rubix cube.
So, with thoughts of parties and bunny tails, it didn’t come as a complete surprise that I have also been thinking about buying a sectional sofa; I finally see the appeal of having a sofa that invites us to put our feet up and get comfy.
You see, it has always been difficult for me to sit with my feet on the ground, and I worry that I am not being very lady-like in the way that I cross my legs, so why not have something that almost encourages my potential bad manners. (Mind you, it could also be the amount of chocolate that I ate over Christmas that is sweetening my sudden love affair with outstretched, fabric-inclined laziness).
When I think past my lazy thoughts, I also like that there are options, but not like going to a diner options; these are simple and not-too-over-whelming options. Do you want the lounging bit on the left or the right, what fabric do you like, and how big do you want it to be? There are more questions I am sure, but it isn’t hard to navigate, and isn’t likely to make you run away or just give up and order the grilled cheese.
And, did you know they can fit more people? Even the smallest one will seat three or four, without unsettling your host or making you feel that you are teetering on the edge of someone else’s personal space. In fact, they might possibly be my new favorite piece of furniture.
But then I talked to someone who said that they didn’t like sectionals at all. She said she didn’t know how to sit on them properly, the thought made her uncomfortable, and that they looked like a bed in the middle of the living room. She preferred to sit up, and at a distance, rather than lounging awkwardly close to her friend’s bare feet.
As we talked, I understood what she meant, but I also hoped that if she visited someone it was because she liked them, and that they would be okay with her asking how on earth she was supposed to sit on their comfy (but confusing) furniture configuration. Because at the end of the day, it is all about comfort, and if she isn’t comfortable I am sure that her friend would happily take off her bunny tail, open a packet of chocolate biscuits, and invite her to sit down at the kitchen table instead.
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