Couch problems, son!

We've been reading The Brick House and the adventures of Morgan's mid-century dwelling for years. I've always admired Morgan's unwavering courage when it comes to switching out furniture; her house is like a revolving door of sofas and coffee tables.

I am envious. Big sigh.


(Do I even need to talk about the amazingness happening in those pictures? And that Chesterfield?? Please!)

When we finally "finished" furnishing our house, I was so happy the clutter and mess had disappeared that change seemed like a four letter word. Now, a year later, I am antsy. And our tweed mid-century couch is slowly crippling. 1+1=2. It's time for change.

A few weeks ago, Josh's parents took us to a house they were looking to buy. As I peaked through the living room window, I saw it: the most obnoxious, wonderful yellow floral sofa. It was screaming my name and I made Josh's parent's promise it would be worked into the deal.

Fast forward to now. They didn't get the house. I didn't get the couch. It's all I can think about. If Don Draper had a baby with floral, it would be this couch. It had the most perfect, clean, mid-century lines coupled with a boldness reminiscent of the 70's. I'm pretty sure that couch will be like the perfect fitting pair of jeans you didn't buy and will always regret. Even if in 6 months they stretch out (like most jeans do) and you discover you don't love them they way you thought you did, it's the fact that you'll never know that irks the most.

Photos by Morgan of The Brick House.