First year in London was chaos. The carpet smelled like beer, but we gave it soul with furniture. Forget glossy showrooms, so we searched markets. We carried a wingback through Dalston. The colours clashed, but that’s why it worked. Vintage sofas feel alive, and we don’t need polish, we need real. I’ve hosted ten people on one sagging retro sofa, and the furniture was part of the night. Every warehouse flat tells the same story, and Smithers down in Shoreditch knows it.

I stopped by Smithers looking for nothing, and the vintage statement armchairs carried scars I loved. we were broke students, but it’s survived three house parties and a flood. We’ve all begged friends for lifts. it’s where life happens. Retro sofas don’t care if you spill. Brand-new looks boring, but retro lasts. every wobble tells the truth. By the end of the year, the cracked window gets forgotten, but the mismatched set still makes you laugh. So if you’re moving to London, don’t waste time on the soulless new.

Grab a retro sofa, and let it carry your student nights.