The Sofa Cover Crafter ad: The sofa was grey when we got it.

The sofa was grey when we got it. I want that on the record, because nobody who comes round believes me now. We bought it the year we moved in. Grey, quite a nice grey, the sort of grey you pick because you think it will go with everything and hide everything, and for about eight months it did. Then we got the dog. And the dog, who was supposed to have a bed, decided the sofa was the bed, and specifically the left-hand cushion, and specifically the bit nearest the radiator. Four years later that cushion is a different colour to the rest of the sofa. Not dirty exactly. Just a colour. There is no name for it. It is somewhere between beige and grey and it only exists on sofas that have had a dog on them for four years, and I have it. So I did what everyone does, which is buy a throw. Then a better throw. Then quite an expensive throw that I was told was "the one", and I would like to describe to you what happens to a throw in this house. You put it on. You smooth it. It looks lovely for about an hour. Then a human sits down and the throw comes with them, like a cape. Then the human gets up and the cape is on the floor. Then the dog gets on the floor cape. It is on the floor by half nine every single night. It is a bedtime routine at this point. I have made peace with it more than I have made peace with some people. I priced a new sofa. Have you priced a sofa recently. I priced reupholstering, and that was somehow worse. So I went back to the throw and started looking at it as a design problem instead of a shopping problem, which is where I have to be honest with you, because I do actually work with a sofa cover company, The Sofa Cover Crafter, and that is the whole reason I am sitting here writing an essay about a cushion. The one we make is called the Herpome. The difference is it is one big piece, so it goes over the back and both arms as well, not just the seat, and you tuck the slack into the crease between the cushions instead of hoping. Herringbone weave, so it looks like it was meant to be there and not like a blanket that lost an argument. Pom-poms along the edge, which I genuinely did not want and now would fight someone for. And it goes in the wash, which with a dog is the whole point. Seven colours, four sizes up to a full corner sofa, from £30.90. Link is below if you want it. Anyway. That is the sofa. Have you looked at yours lately.