Linda Kennedy
You need something soft in your life. Something welcoming at home. For Netflix and chilling. You turn to online options. You swipe. You swipe more. Something catches your eye. It claims to be 180cm long and amply deep. You’ve already measured your personal space. It’s perfect. And it’s ready to be picked-up.
Welcome to Tinder for Sofas. If only it existed.
I’ve been moving house recently, and mixing the purchase of second-hand and upcycled furniture with new stuff. This has meant a lot of time going through options on Home Furnishings sites. As I swiped through photographs, making instant judgements on bulk, legs and general upstandingness, it occurred to me: this is a bit like a dating app.
But, as with online dating, there’s a lot people could do to improve their chances.
Right now, on Home Furnishings’ sites, many items are presented with a solitary, blurred photo. How many pick-up offers is that going to get? People who post their chests, wardrobes and ottomans would do well to put in a decent profile, including several clear photos, and measurements. Size, when it comes to furniture, really does matter.
When I texted the phone number on an appealing table, the first exchange was oddly similar to early dating.
Me: ‘Hey. I like your ad. Can you tell me more? What height is it?’
TeakTableAndChairs: (after three hours): ‘Sure. Let me measure.’
Silence.
TeakTableAndChairs (after 24 hours): ‘Hey. Got let down by someone last night. You still interested?’
At first I though the obscure furniture photo phenomenon was laziness. Then I wondered if what I was witnessing was the upholstered version of hiding your identity. After all, a sofa can’t wear sunglasses or Hallowe’en masks, the usual semi-disguises for people on dating sites who seem to feel there is some kind of stigma being there.
Then I decided it was due to the lack of template. Dating apps all have a format, guiding hopefuls towards sharing relevant details. If this existed on Tinder for Sofas, life might be easier. The FAQ section could include ‘tips: best openers and bios.’
Sofa, 5
3 miles away
Me:
A fun easy-going settee. If you want drama, go elsewhere, I’m not a Divan.
My icebreaker:
What’s your favourite position? LOL. On the sofa. Are you recliner? A percher? A stretcher-out?
My freak flag:
I know everyone says they’re into fitness, but it’s not so common when you’re a sofa, right? I went to the gym once. Yep, I was a gym sofa for about six months. You know, the ones in the reception area where you slump after a workout, or where they tell you the prices as you join early January. It was a good time, though there were arguments. People got mad about the insistence on long contracts and autopay. Then I ended up here, in this apartment. It’s been great but my owner is moving on, and I’m too small to go with him. I’m 165cm long x 48cm deep x 74 cm height. Still very springy!
People on dating apps could also learn something from honest Home Furnishing vendors – the ones who candidly photograph a stain on their item for sale. What if dating profiles did that? Close-up photograph of head: ‘This is bald spot’. Brightly lit photograph of hairline: ‘These are my recurring roots.’ Photograph of a couple: T’his is my former girlfriend who is a blot in my romantic history. Could be patched over, by the right person.’
I write this on the Teak Table, by the way. We got it together. A Tinder for Sofas success story.
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