I’d like to talk about an old, oversized armchair that sits in the corner of my living room, right next to a bay window that looks out over the garden. It’s actually a second-hand piece of furniture that I bought at a local flea market a couple of years ago, but it has quickly become my absolute favourite spot in the whole flat.
In terms of appearance, it’s upholstered in a deep bottle-green velvet fabric, which has faded slightly over the years, giving it a bit of character. It has high rolled arms, a generously padded backrest, and a thick feather-filled cushion that you just sink straight into. There’s also a matching footstool, so I can put my feet up, and I always keep a soft woollen throw draped over the back for when the weather gets chilly.
Whenever I sit there, I tend to read light fiction or travel memoirs, basically anything that allows me to switch off and escape from daily responsibilities. I try to avoid heavy academic texts or work-related reading in that chair because I really want to associate that corner purely with unwinding.
I think the main reason I find it so soothing is the atmosphere it creates. The natural light coming through the window is perfect for reading during the day, and in the evening, I turn on a small brass floor lamp beside it, which casts a warm, cosy glow. It feels like a private sanctuary where I can shut out background noise, sip a cup of tea, and completely lose track of time in a good novel.