The Couch Is the Mood

My couch is plaid.

I call it my Vivienne Westwood couch. It isn't actually by Vivienne Westwood, but it has her spirit: tartan, irreverence, a traditional thing behaving badly. It sits in my living room like it knows it's the most interesting thing there.

I love couches. They're one of the three kinds of furniture, along with lamps and dining tables and chairs, that I can never stop looking at, no matter how little room I have to bring another one home.

And I've come to believe the couch is the single piece of furniture that most decides how a room feels.

The biggest opinion in the room

Think about it in plain terms. In most living rooms, the couch is the largest object. It takes up the most visual space. It's where people land. It's what the eye goes to first and what everything else is arranged around.

So whatever the couch says, the room says.

A beige couch says calm, or safe, or sometimes just I didn't decide. A velvet couch in a deep color says come sit, stay late. A leather couch says something about ease and age. A plaid couch says don't take any of this too seriously.

That's why I don't think of a couch as a neutral backdrop. I think of it as the mood.

You might not need a new one

When someone says they need a new couch, a few questions come first.

Is the frame good? Is it the right size for the room? Do you love its shape? If the answer to those is yes, the couch you have might be the couch you need. It just needs a new mood.

Sometimes we find a couch and reupholster it to create exactly the feeling a client was after. Sometimes the couch they already own is the right candidate. A great shape in tired fabric is one of the best opportunities in interior styling, because you get to keep the bones and change the whole personality.

How to tell if the bones are good

If you're hunting for a vintage couch, or deciding whether yours is worth re-covering, look at what's underneath the fabric.

The frame matters most. Solid hardwood frames, often in older furniture, tend to last much longer than particleboard or softwood. A heavy couch is frequently a good sign. Lift one end. If it feels flimsy, it probably is.

Look at the springs. In older, well-made upholstered furniture, you'll sometimes find eight-way hand-tied springs, where each coil is tied to its neighbors by hand. It's a long-respected sign of quality construction.

Check the joints. Push on the arms. Sit in the corners. Listen for creaks. Wobble means trouble, though a good upholsterer can often re-glue and reinforce.

Don't worry about the cushions or the fabric. Foam can be replaced. Fabric can be replaced. The frame and the shape are what you're buying.

Fabric is where the mood lives

Once the bones are right, the fabric is where the real decision gets made.

This is where a couch can go from forgettable to unforgettable. A classic camelback in a surprising plaid. A low 1970s sofa in a rich velvet. A severe modern shape softened by a nubby wool. The same frame can feel entirely different depending on what it's wearing.

When I'm choosing fabric for a client, I'm thinking about the thread in the room, the color or material or attitude that ties everything together. The couch should carry that thread at full volume.

And I'm thinking about how the room should feel. Not look. Feel. Is this a room for long conversations? For lying down on a Sunday? For impressing people? The couch has to know.

Don't push it against the wall

One placement note, because it changes everything: try floating the couch.

Most couches live pushed up against a wall, because that's where they landed on moving day. Pull it out. Put a console or a narrow table behind it with a lamp. Angle a chair to face it. Suddenly the room has a center instead of a perimeter, and the couch becomes the place where things happen.

Where great couches come from

Vintage couches are one of the hardest things to buy online. Photos flatten them. You can't feel the frame or sit in the corners or tell whether the depth will work for your body. And they're expensive to move, so a mistake is costly.

This is exactly where personal vintage sourcing helps. At Joey Rose, when a client needs a couch, I'm out in Los Angeles at thrift stores, estate sales, flea markets and wherever else the day takes me, looking for the right shape with the right bones at the right scale. When I find a candidate, I'll send photos, talk through whether it can be reupholstered and what it might become, and coordinate getting it home if it's the one.

Sometimes the couch we find is perfect as is. More often, it's a great frame waiting for its mood.

The plaid one

Is a plaid couch a little much?

It is. That's the point. It makes the room laugh a little. It tells you right away that whoever lives here has opinions.

That's what a couch should do. Not disappear. Decide.

Previous
Previous

Every Chair at the Table

Next
Next

In Praise of the Strange Lamp