Sofa so good....

Are sofas the markers of our life?

I'm changing my sofas (after 8 long years): I'm feeling oddly sentimental.

Sofas are the backdrop to our lives. They reflect our aspirations, the semiotic and social codes that we wish to portray about (and to?) ourselves; they announce who we are to everyone who sits or lies on them, everyone who sees them, everyone who visits our home....

Are you a white crisp Italian leather kinda guy? Or a more flouncy, pillowey type? Are you a stolid, durable brown leather - the kind that sits quietly forever in the corner of a pub, or are you a more assertive, more visual and less kinaesthetic presence? Are you retro, euro-luxe, forgettable English beige, shiny or matt, squidgey or firm, flaccid or stiff? Are you monotone or multi-patterned? Bright or austere? Are you extravagant or prudent? Sensible or outre? Are you Selfridges or Ikea? Are you Harrods or DFS?

Sofas represent memories: My sofas and I have shared shags, curries, breakups, bereavements, quiet nights in, loud parties; I've cuddled, fucked, been fucked, eaten, drunk, slept, cried, laughed, worried and celebrated on my sofas. They've charted my changing musical tastes from early House through World Music and back again through Old School via high camp. They were born in Italy, were adopted in Ireland and now find their home in London. Like me, they've travelled a long way in 8 years.

They've changed.

They are more worn. They've lost some of their bounce. My new sofas are less pillowey, less soft, less forgiving, less comfortable and kind than the old ones. They are more urban. More London. Less me..... ?

I've changed.

Are my new, pristine, sharp-edged and sharp-attitude sofas my Dorian Grey picture in the attic? Are they the facelift I'm afraid to have myself? By ditching the old sofas via e.bay am I selling my memories, my texture, my soul to the highest bidder? In my drive to disguise the softer, more provincial and flouncier me am I in danger of losing myself along with the 'Dijon' loose cushion extravaganza that I've nested in?

Or am I just a sentimental old Queen intimidated to be given a new throne after all these years?