I’ve been in the trade man and boy for decades. Here in Mayfair, folk are not merely choosing somewhere to park themselves. Old families from Belgravia and Kensington, and they all want a piece that speaks. A velvet seat with history, tells the truth. One battered club chair was claimed for a Notting Hill film set, and he told me years later it was still going strong. That’s what vintage means. They waste time with flat-pack, but they find themselves in Mayfair again.

Cheap wood snaps, whereas real furniture stays. This city speaks through its homes. St John’s Wood desires quiet luxury, with plush sofas. Brixton is bold, with funky sofas fabrics. That’s what keeps us alive. I’ll tell you something else, accent chairs outlive their buyers. Flat-pack won’t do that. I still check the stitching for strength, and the truth tells itself. History sits with you. So when you’re tempted by the new, stop. Find yourself a vintage sofa, and watch it age gracefully.