<p>We bought a huge blue couch around 1985. Our neighbor at the time was an interior designer and had it made for us in a factory in Los Angeles, complete with solid blue synthetic material. Fast forward more than 20 years, and the poor old thing is showing its age. The cushions are saggy and shapeless and the supports under the fabric, which had held on valiantly for the first 15 years or so, are drooping worse than a tired willow. The blue fabric, however, is still in fabulous shape and there had been no problems with the frame. I figure since the wooden structure was obviously well made, and the size and shape are what we like, that I would get it reupholstered and have the suspension (or whatever it’s called) replaced. Turns out that no one reupholsters couches anymore, because I can buy a now piece of furniture for what it would cost to redo the old one. So we venture out to a local emporium that is having a loud sale on stuff.</p>
<p>Big mistake. Huge. </p>
<p>We end up with a smaller couch and a matching arm chair (to fill the empty wall in the family room). They are terrific looking – covered in brown leather with just the faintest hint of red, cool stitching on the seams, with big rolled arms that are just the right height. They look like something from the 30s, which matches our love of Shaker and Mission furniture. We weren’t in a hurry and I am deeply suspicious of “designer” (meaning “I don’t care if it hurts your back”) furniture. I spend at least a half-hour sitting and reading on the final candidate, which passes with flying colors. One day Men come and deliver the new furniture and take away old blue – a couch that has raised two children and provided me with hours of Saturday afternoon naps. The new couch is my domain, and is nice. WashMom settles into the chair.</p>
<p>All is well until our new furniture starts to sag. Sags fast. Sags deep. After about a year, the chair is OK, but sitting on the couch is like sitting in an leather-covered bucket. I’ve taken to putting a cushion under my back, just like Old Blue in the last years of his life. The discrete metal label on the back of the chair is Italian, and I’m thinking, “It’s not that expensive, but it’s not all that cheap, either, and I thought the Italians built good, stylish stuff.” I’m bummed. One day I come across the little care guide pamphlet that came with them, and find the “Made in China” tag. Nothing in particular about “made in China” but it’s not what I thought I was buying.</p>
<p>Old Blue went more than 15 years before the sagging became noticeable. I’d bet a dollar that the new furniture uses either cheap springs or nylon straps, which are fine for a little while, but then start to stretch like a bungee cord. </p>
<p>I’m deeply bummed. At least our new(ish) couch and chair still look good. They just feel bad.</p>