When I moved to Shoreditch I had nothing but a mattress. The walls were bare, but we gave it soul with furniture. IKEA lasts a term at best, so we searched markets. I spotted a funky armchair on Brick Lane. The colours clashed, funky chair but that’s what made it real. Old accent chairs carry memory, and we care more about story than gloss. I’ve watched half my flat pass out across two chairs, and every time it felt right. Every warehouse flat tells the same story, blackfriday.com and students rely on it.
My flatmate dragged me into Smithers, and the accent chairs were bold and weird. money was tight, but that chair still sits in the flat. We’ve all begged friends for lifts. it’s half the fun. Accent chairs don’t flinch when four people pile on. Catalogue gloss falls apart fast, but old sofas age into character. every creak is another laugh. When you’re moving out, the dodgy landlord fades away, but that funky accent chair is legend.
So if you’re moving to London, don’t waste time on the soulless new. Take home something with scars, unusual armchairs and see how it shapes your memories.
