I was awfully tempted to hook the baby-poo couch to my back and walk it up the stairs when I saw it in the back laneway the other day. Although the colour is hideous, it looked extremely comfortable to my couch connoisseur’s eye, and I thought it would have looked great on my balcony. I mean, I know a good couch when I see one, having spent many an hour on them chatting with friends, watching television and, oh, and sleeping.
I think it’s because I didn’t actually have a couch in my house when I was growing up. Now, I know this sounds like something from Monty Python, but we didn’t actually have a lounge-room as a child, we just had a hall-way. As a result of too many people, not enough rooms, I spent my formative years sitting on the floor in a hall-way, which is where the television was located. The only time I ever sat on a couch as a child was when I visited other people.
Heading off to university and living in shared accommodation I had a variety of couches throughout my twenties. Most memorable of these was the one Roberto (who I shared with in Wagga Wagga) and I inherited from near neighbour Karen. Famously, Roberto decided one night he would wash the cushion-covers. Tragically, the fabric shrunk, so we then faced the dilemma of what to do with cushion-covers that no longer fitted the cushions. As a result of cutting down the foam so the cushion-covers fitted, we ended up with cushions sitting on the couch which resembled shrunken heads. When I arrived home with friends that night we all pissed our pants laughing at how small the cushions looked on the much larger couch.
The following day I went along to the furniture store and bought two lovely striped couches (including one with a fold-out bed) which served me well for the next ten years or so. Despite its age, I still have the fold-out in my spare bedroom and use it for visitors.
The much loved couch was replaced seven or eight years ago by two black-leather monsters which are incredibly comfortable and remain – touch wood – to look very attractive. They’re fantastic for socialising (three to a couch comfortably), watching television upon, and enjoying the occasional Saturday afternoon nap. Speaking of which…
4 thoughts on “Discarded Couch”
Oh James, what a lovely story. You brought to mind my couch history. In one share house, we had not one but two Dog Couches – John Birmingham brown, both had come from parental garages where they had been relegated for the dog to sleep on. We were so desperate, we vacuumed them off and used them happily for several years. I even had a third Dog Couch – when I was manager of a student radio station in northern NSW, and one student who borrowed CDs from me took pity on my couchless state and donated his parent’s dog couch – also brown. The more things change, etc..
Thanks for the feedback Miss-Andrea. Ever since you said how much you enjoyed the Discarded stuff I have been quite motivated to keep doing them. I saw two more mattresses out the back this morning, by the way, though they weren’t very interesting. Jamesxx
Not even any interesting stains?? ;-)
Nothing that Shannon Lush couldn’t remove with some bicarb soda and vinegar!