I’m at a point in my life where I spend a lot of time laying down, exhausted, on the floor. If you too are at this stage, it’s a good time to start reviewing objects around you.
GREY IKEA COUCH
Moderately soft (so on theme). A bit grossed out. I might go wash my hands after this. My housemate often tells me to move to the end of the couch so they can fully extend their legs, and I am still told I take up the most space. This is not my go-to item for softness.
4/10 for the texture that reminds me of compact grain bread (except I can comfortably watch TV while sitting on it).
HOUSE PLANT LEAF
Look, the first thing I want to comment on isn’t the softness, but that this is an essential piece of the lounge room landscape from the view of the (aforementioned) couch. You can’t miss it. Can I also mention this plant continues to thrive, even though my Mum is the only one who waters it, and she doesn’t even live here. She visits (on average) around five times a year. I’ll be honest, this is quite rubbery. I don’t ever want to touch this again.
2/10 not the worst thing I have ever touched.
WOODEN FLOORBOARDS IN LOUNGE ROOM
Good sound quality when tapping nails. Could make a nice ASMR titled ‘TAPPING MY LOUNGE ROOM FLOOR FOR FIFTY MINUTES’. This is probably quite dirty. Smooth, but not soft. Clearly a hard surface. Ha ha.
7/10 because I like timber.
FADED, SOMEWHAT STAINED, CURTAIN
I touched this because I thought it would be soft, and I am quite disappointed. It’s a weird texture, almost embossed fabric. Maybe I’m bad at describing things. I’m quite tired.
1/10 but it gave being soft a good shot.
CARPETED STEP
Not enjoying this. It’s not soft. There’s a weird, almost itchy feeling from this. Different to the feeling in my own legs when exercising because the blood capillaries aren’t strong enough. I’m not strong enough … anyway, this isn’t about me.
0/10 for bringing back bad memories of this morning’s six kilometre walk my sister made me accompany her on with the promise of seeing dogs at the dog park. A Claremont dog owner gave me an ANGRY look because I didn’t have a dog. The best part of the experience was one street from my home when I got to pet a cat called Clyde.
Words and art by Skye Newton
This article first appeared in print volume 88 edition 7 SOFT