
I'm suddenly obsessed with settees, and it's entirely my small apartment's fault. Allow me to explain.
Eighty-two inches is the absolute longest sofa I can fit against my living room wall – and even that is pushing it. I live in New York, which means one of my clothing closets sits directly to the right; anything creeping into the early 80s means I’ll have to work a little harder to retrieve my socks. (If I’m being honest, 75 inches is probably the more emotionally correct number.)