My world has always been the shop floor, the showroom, the warehouse. In the showrooms of Grosvenor, folk are not merely choosing somewhere to park themselves. Couples step through the door, and they all want a piece that speaks. A velvet seat with history, gives them that. I remember selling a Chesterfield to a gentleman from St John’s Wood, and modern leather armchairs ten years on it looked better than ever. This is why old beats new. People wander past the big chains, but sooner or later they return.

Gloss wears off, whereas vintage lasts. The capital’s rooms all look different. Hampstead seeks calm, retro sofagruppe with plush sofas. Brixton is bold, with colourful sofas. That’s the mix. End of the day, a sofa becomes family. Modern factory pieces can’t compete. I still walk my warehouse floors, and the right piece never lies. Old furniture lives. Next time you flick through a catalogue, stop. Choose a funky accent chair, and let it settle into your life.

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