An appreciation for longevity
- lizzylee
- Feb 12, 2021
- 2 min read

One of the things I loved discovering when I upholstered my first chair was that previous upholsterers often leave a small piece of the original fabric tacked to the inside of the frame — giving a visual timeline of how the piece may have looked over the ages. It’s also quite the norm to discover that the chair frame has been signed and dated by the upholsterer to show the history of who has tended to the chair over the years — either to keep bringing it back into fashion, or to strengthen the foundations of the piece ensuring its longevity for years to come.
In today’s world of buy, discard and buy again — there’s something so comforting in this slowing of pace, this utter respect for the history of a piece and what’s gone before us, and the honour of the craftsperson taking pride in the art of restoring something to its former glory.
Unfortunately, cost is often a prohibitive factor when it comes to upholstery. Some years ago, my aunt bought a large armchair on eBay for 99p, with full intentions of getting the piece re-covered. Due to the size of the chair and therefore the amount of fabric required, she was quoted £900 by the local upholsterer in the village (so that’s without the London surcharge). I remember being staggered by the expense. Now, of course, I fully appreciate the amount of work required. Looking back, I actually think she was quoted a bargain.
I think where it needs to start is finding a true appreciation for the longevity of a piece. That’s the real gem. On the one hand this means knowing you are restoring something that’s got a story and reviving a little piece of history, and on the other hand, avoiding landfill and generally slowing the pace of consumption. These factors don’t come cheap, but they are rich in positive wealth.
There’s something in the somewhat slow and considered pace of upholstery (you can’t really rush it), that perhaps we should all apply in our desire for new things. Consider what already exists and how you can adapt it and make it work, and then wallow in the warmth of knowing you are preserving history, doing your bit to save the planet, oh, and, of course, causing envy amongst anyone who ever steps foot in your house again.
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