In our house, we have a sofa. In its heyday it was quite the piece of furniture. Hand made, custom designed, top-of-the-line fabric, and stuffed with down feathers – she was a beauty. Now however, years of big bottoms, dog paws, and take-away pizza have made their mark. The old lady sags. (don’t we all?) She puffs out feathers to the point that when I stand up, I look as if I’ve been sitting on a pigeon. Her cushions have holes in them. Her arms have tears. She is looking less like a lady and more like a frat house beer bong. This doesn’t sit well with any of us (except maybe Kiki who likes to sink into the soft spots).
So a few months ago I began the search for an upholsterer. Why throw out the grand dame when with a new coat paint she could be as good as new? And that’s when I realized that I live in a consumer-driven world. If I were to get our lovely old sofa reupholstered in my neighborhood, the price would be more than a new sofa. If I got the job done in east Los Angeles it would drop to a measly $1500 and if I went even further away from where we live, I could swing it for $1300. This is not of course, including fabric.
And now I’m on the case – do I spend the time, energy, and dinero to get our loyal sofa a face lift? Or do I start shopping? Either way, I’m eating Raman noodles for a while.