The return of the couch raincoat.
Couch Diary
My neighbors a few brownstones down spent the better part of the last year renovating their apartment, breaking a staircase through the roof, and building a lovely deck. Now that they have moved in, they have put their energies into creating a subtropical paradise amid the Greenwich Village rooftops.
An aspect of their fantasy seems to be that they live in a place other than the steamy Northeast. The main feature of their deck is what looks like an Ikea sofa. A great idea if you’re in the desert, or Southern California, but a fetid and upsetting concept here in dirty, stormy New York City.
An aspect of their fantasy seems to be that they live in a place other than the steamy Northeast. The main feature of their deck is what looks like an Ikea sofa. A great idea if you’re in the desert, or Southern California, but a fetid and upsetting concept here in dirty, stormy New York City.
Aug 29
Aug 17
Pillow-drying seems to have become the default arrangement.
Aug 11
They seem to have implemented a stringent cushion-drying regimen. I fear the days of the couch are numbered.
Aug 10
Aug 09
They moved one of the fetid cushions, perhaps so I could better document it for this memoir of disintegration.
Aug 07
On Saturday, they were straightening up the patio and watering the plants when I noticed that they were very gingerly moving the sofa cushions around, as if, perhaps, something was growing in or on them. This morning, Wednesday, I noticed that the sofa was denuded of its cushions and one of the cushions (see below) was itself denuded of its cover (and is looking, may I say, pretty icky.)
Aug 02
Looking kind of prune-y after a long, hot month.
Jul 04
Later the same day.
A new arrangement. Note the little slipcover on the side table.
