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My world has always been the shop floor, the showroom, the warehouse. Amongst the squares and crescents, a sofa is never just a sofa. Old families from Belgravia and Kensington, and they’re all searching for the same thing. A vintage sofa, tells the truth. One battered club chair was claimed for a Notting Hill film set, and the scars became part of the charm. That’s what vintage means. They waste time with flat-pack, leather chair retro but they find themselves in Mayfair again.

Fabric frays fast, whereas real furniture stays. Taste splits by borough. Hampstead seeks calm, with deep seats. Camden stays chaotic, with retro mismatches. That’s what keeps us alive. I’ve learnt over years, unusual accent chairs chairs outlive their buyers. Glossy showrooms don’t sell that. I still touch the arms of the chairs, and I know straight away. History sits with you. If you’re thinking quick buy, think again. Take on a classic wingback, and watch it age gracefully.