The soft, pink velvet couch of my dreams recently materialized in my life: an on-trend, secondhand West Elm lounger that is miraculously stain- and dirt-free. I love it like my own child and paid a small fortune to buy it, too, but given my anxiety and its “pristine-ness,” it’s already giving me issues. The main one being that I haven’t been doing much sitting on it. I refuse to let it be besmirched by my subway clothes, for starters — if you were a regular on the A train, you would, too. And the idea of having guests over who might want to sip and snack on it? Unthinkable.
from Stories from Slate https://ift.tt/2O2AJ6V
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