Develop some crushes, but try not to fall in love with anything yet-you still have a lot more clues to uncover. Snoop around hotel lobbies, cocktail lounges, museum cafes, and other places where sofas lurk. Wear your sofa goggles with pride as you search for the designs that strike a chord. You might even need to start seeing the world through “sofa goggles”-invisible vision-filters that separate all objects into two piles: sofas, and everything else. Take a few days (or weeks, even-no need to rush) and start paying attention to what different sofas “say” in different contexts. Are you interested in a trim, graceful sofa that floats like a ballerina en pointe, or a more generous model that hugs the floor and says “dude, let’s you and me eat a big thing of chili”? Your sofa sets the tone for the rest of your living area, so you’ve got to be honest with yourself and really get this right. The most abstract of all the small sofa decisions that you will make en route to the big sofa decision has to do with style. In the end, as with any mystery worth its salt, the clues you’ll encounter will likely point to a surprising conclusion-with some twists and turns along the way. Through a bit of careful self-investigation on how you want your sofa to perform (and a bit of sleuthing on how sofas are made), you can easily deduce which sofa, out of the thousands that exist in the world, is guilty of being perfect. In order to crack the case, you need to play the Detective and search for clues that will point you in the right direction. But don’t let it scare you off-rather than entering into it reluctantly, think of the process as a surprisingly fun mystery to be solved: the Case of the Perfect Sofa. The process of picking a sofa can be a little mysterious, sure. The floor’s still cold-waiting for the red light to turn green. It’s a crazy mixed up world, and finding that perfect sofa seems like the last thing that would ever happen to you. But what about the void it would leave behind? Somewhere in the distance, a foghorn sounds: So-FAHHHHHH. It sits there, an imposter, a relic of a life you’ve left behind. You turn slowly and your gaze stops at your sofa. ![]() Something’s not right, and you can’t put your finger on it. The kitchen floor is cold on your feet as you spark up the espresso machine and wait for the red light to turn green. 4:59 AM, and the rest of the city sleeps.
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