My world has always been the shop floor, the showroom, the warehouse. Around these West End streets, people don’t buy just to sit. Old families from Belgravia and Kensington, and they’re all searching for the same thing. A battered old wingback, gives them that. There was a velvet sofa that went to a townhouse in Chelsea, and the scars became part of the charm. That’s what endures. People wander past the big chains, but at the end they admit.

Modern things break, whereas real furniture stays. Every part of London tells a different story. Kensington demands velvet, contemporary leather armchair with buttoned wingbacks. Camden stays chaotic, with colourful sofas. That’s the charm. Let me put it plainly, a sofa becomes family. Modern factory pieces can’t compete. I still touch the arms of the chairs, and I know straight away. History sits with you. If you’re thinking quick buy, take a breath. Take on a classic wingback, and make it part of your Mayfair truth.