Reclaimed leather. 8 out of 10 cows prefer it.

Reclaimed Leather. 8 out of 10 cows prefer it.

Doris

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I’m sorry. Did I keep you hanging on?

There is a new sofa on my bench, so get ready for some good times. Let’s hear it for DORIS. Doris was a disco queen through and through. Men swooned at the sight of her funky chicken and her disco finger was as legendary as her spangly platform shoes. Often to be seen in top-to-toe crimplene, her love of polyester only slightly eclipsed her passion for John Travolta and Elnette hairspray.

As she strutted around the floor in her metallic jumpsuit, her free-range breasts looked like a pair of tiny quails trying to escape from tinfoil, but watch out, any admirers getting too close would have their eyes poked out by her pointy collar.

Doris was always on the look out for her Six Million Dollar man. While other divas may have judged a man on the size of his bell bottoms, the sight of a gold medallion nestled in some unruly chest hair was what gave her the night fever. She liked to admire those manly wide lapels from a distance – with everyone wearing man made fibres, close contact was contra-indicated in case the resulting friction caused a disco inferno.

Doris was a sad sight when she came to me. Quietly humming ‘Don’t leave me this way’, her once perky cushions were saggy and there was no heart left in her hustle. With a bit of love, though, she realised she would survive and after a wash and a massage she is determined to give you the best of her love.

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