I’ve been in the trade man and boy for decades. In the showrooms of Grosvenor, folk are not merely choosing somewhere to park themselves. Old families from Belgravia and Kensington, and they all ask for quality. A battered old wingback, carries the room. A wingback ended up in a Belgravia study, and the sofa aged but never gave way. That’s what endures. People wander past the big chains, www.rutadeviaje.com but eventually they realise.

Gloss wears off, whereas real furniture stays. The capital’s rooms all look different. Hampstead seeks calm, with plush sofas. Brixton is bold, with loud armchairs. That’s the charm. I’ll tell you something else, an armchair becomes memory. Flat-pack won’t do that. I still walk my warehouse floors, and the truth tells itself. Old furniture lives. Before you make a mistake, take a breath. Bring home something with story, and allow it to tell your story.