Why do we have cushions in the home? What’s the point of all those soft things just hanging around cluttering up the place? As the average British home – already the smallest in Europe – gets ever smaller, what’s the point of stuffing it full of low-density fabric-covered litter?
I mean, have you ever actually SAT on a cushion? No: you sit on the sofa and move the cushion out of the way. So a cushion is basically a surrogate family member who sits on the sofa when you’re out of the room. I mean, don’t you ever wonder, WHAT WERE THEY THINKING?
If you need to add a soft layer to the ass-to-furniture interface, why not integrate the cushion into the item of furniture, i.e. upholster it, rather than bolt it on like a chav’s rear spoiler? And if the furniture is upholstered already, what’s the point of doing it again only detachably? Things don’t get more comfortable the foamier you make them; ask any princess with a pea problem.
And cushions on BEDS? What’s all that about? If you’re sitting in your bedroom, you’re either a teenager or a prostitute (or both). Otherwise, use a sofa instead. If you’re lying down, use the pillows (you’ll find them under the duvet.) There is no point whatsoever to put cushions on your bed.
There are no cushions in Modernism. Since Modernism represents the end of design – the ultimate finished product, where aesthetic effect is created by the properties and functionality of the product itself – in any battle between Modernism and cushions, the cushions go out the window. Which is where your cushions should go, too. Let’s get rid of cushions, and defrag our lives.
And don’t get me started on those fluffy toilet seat covers…