When I moved to Shoreditch I had nothing but a mattress. The carpet smelled like beer, but we built it piece by piece. New furniture is soulless, so we grabbed second-hand. I spotted a funky armchair on Brick Lane. The colours clashed, but that’s why it worked. Funky retro seating has character, and we care more about story than gloss. I’ve hosted ten people on one sagging retro sofa, chairs with sofa and those seats carried us. Markets spill chairs onto the streets, and students rely on it.

My flatmate dragged me into Smithers, and the accent chairs were bold and weird. money was tight, but it’s become the throne of the house. We’ve all shoved sofas through windows. It’s part of student life. Furniture with scars feels built for students. Catalogue gloss falls apart fast, but real pieces stay alive. every stain means another night. Once the parties are done, the cracked window gets forgotten, but the armchair stays in your mind. If you find yourself in a Shoreditch flat, leave the glossy showrooms behind.

Grab a retro sofa, and see how it shapes your memories.