Smelly scallops

This couch reminds me of a scallop - you know, with the roe attached. Love me a nice scallop, either battered and fried from the fish'n'chip shop or grilled and done asian style with some chilli and corriander and a splash of mirin, or even panfried with some butter and garlic. Like I said, love me a scallop.

That does not mean I want a scallop in my loungeroom, nor do I want this couch with its fugly arms and even fuglier head rests. There ain't a deep fryer in the world big enough to get rid of this nastiness.

Fugly, plain and simple

I think this one just speaks for itself, really...

Wagon Wheels on Fire

I knew American eBay wouldn't let me down. I had faith, and the good Lord provided.

Apparently the wheel is off a genuine bullock wagon. I can hardly contain my squeels of delight!

Lucy loves leopards

Basic black couch: ok.

A couple of leopard print cushions as an accent: a bit pimp daddy for my liking, but not truly revolting.

However, once you get past the two, maybe even three, leopard print cushions you start getting a little too South African Safari for my tastes. Especially when the owners offered to throw in a matching rug (sadly, they didn't put a picture of that on eBay).

Bringing the bus stop into your home

This is advertised as a couch. Not as a park bench, not as somewhere to sit while waiting for the tram, not even as applicable for a hospital or the like, none of these things.

I have a few basic criteria for a couch, and comfort is right up there. This does not look comfortable. This does not look like something I would fall asleep on while watching Family Guy, even though I really want to stay awake but it's just on so bloody late - damn you, Channel 7 - and I'm trying to walk home from work these days, so am pretty tired by about 10.30pm... (oops, sorry, went off on one there).

Back to the couch. It seems there are matching armchairs:




Am all for this sort of furniture in an airport. Have slept on similar couches at Charles de Gaulle and Edinburgh. Slept on worse at Heathrow. But please, please, don't suggest this belongs in someone's home, especially not mine.

Bundy bogans rejoice!

It's PVC! It's inflatable! It's gorgeous! It's starting at only $200! Surely your Bundy and Coke has got to taste better when sitting on/sticking to this blow-up number.

The Bobby Flynn couch

Now, just because this couch makes me want to go out and get some Top Deck chocolate, doesn't make it right. And I never thought I would say that about something that reminds me of chocolate, but there you go.

The very best thing about this couch, though, is the name of the company that sells it. Fatmong. Yep, can you believe it? FATMONG. There aren't enough Depends in the world to keep me dry when laughing at that name. It's just so bloody wrong.

Remember when Kyle Sandilands called Bobby Flynn a mong on Australian Idol last year? Pure class. And this couch is named the Bobby Flynn in his honour (ok, maybe not on the Fatmong website, but it is here at Most Fugly Couch, and that's where it counts).

How dare you cast aspersions on my fair city?!

First of all, apologies in advance, Fugly Couchers. Couldn't manage to "borrow" the photo for this couch from the Argos website, so have had to copy the link for you instead:

http://www.argos.co.uk/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/Search?storeId=10001&catalogId=10651&langId=-1&searchTerms=6402970&go.x=9&go.y=10

My good mate Zoe in London put me on to this fugly blue number (also available in brown, but that still doesn't make it right). Apparently the landlady at her new flat is suggesting this should be what Zoe sits on while she belts out her karaoke numbers on Playstation Singstar and partakes in strong cider (good woman, she is). The temerity of the landlady! Obviously doesn't know what a stylista the Z-star is.

But the true insidiousness of this couch is its name: The Melbourne. THE MELBOURNE??!! How dare Argos denigrate the fabulousness that is my hometown by naming such a fugly couch after her? A pox on your house, Argos!

Karma Chameleon couch

Did you know that some fugly couches have chameleon abilities?

It's true.

Don't believe me? Well, tell me if you can find the couch in here amongst all that carpet. It's very Where's Wally? or Where's Waldo?, depending on which side of the Atlantic/Pacific you're on...

This one's too hard, and this one's too soft...

Can someone please explain this to me? Am seriously confused by this couch. Was it designed for Mama, Papa and Baby bear? Why else the three weird and seriously fugly head rests...

Added bonus. A couple of matching arm, or should that be head, chairs:

Maybe this is all part of some weird body part collection. I hate to think what could be next.

Colour my world

In the oh-so-brief amount of time I've been trawling eBay for this blog, there's a key word that I've very quickly learnt can mean fugly couch gold. That word? Custom, of course.

You're setting yourself up for re-sale failure when you go the custom route, obviously. Having identified that your tastes are so specific that you need to get your couch made just for you will pretty much mean the market for people wanting something similar is not going to be that broad.

And then you end up with something like this setting...

There's no mention in the ad about this having come off the set of a failed children's television show, and that's the only place I can think of that this would be at home.

You could see a presenter sitting on this chair and being all bubbly and bright.

As for me, it kinda just gives me a headache. And that's coming from a girl whose dream job would be hosting Sesame Street. No jokes, that's a fact. I even went to my brother's girlfriend's 21st "Dream Job" theme party dressed as a Sesame Street host. Mr Snuffleupagus and I are good mates.

Ooh la la

That' s a whole lotta fugliness on offer in one lot.

Supposedly, it's French. Am thinking more "pretendy French, I wanna be Juliette Binoche" than actual French. I don't wish to cast aspersions on our gallic cousins. Am a big fan of their work in the Crème Brûlée realm and I spent a good portion of the previous weekend imbibing Kir Royales. Mmm... bubbles and cassis...

Sorry, got distracted there. Back to the fugly furniture.

What disturbs me most about this is that I know people who have similar furniture in their home and unfortunately theirs isn't up for sale on eBay, dangnammit! Please, hang on to one of the dinky little chairs in the bedroom to pile up clothes on that you can't be bothered putting away, but otherwise do purge your home of this Francophile shame. Merci beaucoup. À bientôt!

Antique? Me thinks not.

This is supposedly an "antique" Saba chair, according to the owner's listing on eBay.

Last time I checked (which was today, as I doubted myself) something needs to be 100 years old before it's considered an antique. I'm thinking vintage may even be a stretch for this orange smoothie, because even though I'm sure Dave and Mabel have probably fallen off the perch in the intervening years, I still reckon this couch is not much more than 20 years old.

Do you (sorry, probably only for Melbourne) kids remember Dave and Mabel? I used to nag my parents to take me to the Saba Furniture showroom so I could say g'day to said sulphur-crested Cockatoos. Never got taken there. The wilds of Dandenong were just that bit too far from the mean streets of West Preston.

Burn, baby, burn, this couch belongs in an inferno

Goodness, gracious, great couches of fire – what the hell is going on here? (Sidenote- do you like my highly appropriate use of the word hell there? Nice, eh?)

Is this the couch on which Saddam and the South Park Satan shared their first magic moments? It is rather cartoonish in its execution (and I’m kinda hoping the person who designed it is awaiting said fate).

Why would you want this in your house? Why would you even make such a couch?

I just hope, nay pray, this was just a nasty joke that went wrong. I’d hate to think someone actually thought this was a good idea.

When bad fabric happens to good couches

I love a club lounge. I've just been bidding on one on eBay for my new place. Was rather gorgeous and went for a reasonable price but would have had to collect it from Narre Warren, which would have caused me a whole world of pain. I didn't love it that much. So my search continues.

I know underneath this hideous yellow fabric is a tortured, gorgeous club lounge fighting to get out. I can hear its screams "please, find me some lovely lush chocolate velour and save me from a suicide in a tulip patch". And the tragedy is, you can tell this has been recently re-covered too. Oh the sad, unrealised opportunity. Just like Britney when she was with Justin - full of hope and promise. This fabric is the K-Fed of the upholstery world, it takes the shine away from a once beautiful thing. I need to go wash now.

When Italian design goes wrong...

I can just see someone in Melbourne's relatively-new Docklands thinking this is the dog's bollocks.
Yet all I can think about is the poor zebras sacrificed for this monochrome monstrosity.

Bringing up Baby (Bogan style)

Now this couch is what is wrong with Australia. It's one of those little kiddie flip-out-into-a-bed couches. I had one of them when I was a kid. Loved it. I think it was a Strawberry Shortcake one and it made sleep-overs at Nana and Pa's even more fun.

But this one's got "Holden Racing Team" emblazoned across it. The child who sleeps in this bed has no hope but to grow up a bogan. That's because his Mum's a bogan and his Dad's a bogan - gotta be. And we all know that when you've got two dominant bogan genes, it takes a hell of a lot of willpower, exposure to Vogue (when it doesn't have eejits such as Sienna Miller on the cover) and other fahionable reference points to overcome a Double Bogan Gene. The DBG baby must never taste Bundaberg Rum, Jim Beam, Cougar (or any bourbon other than Maker's Mark) or else he will instantly sprout a mullet, find his legs wrapped in acid-wash skinny jeans and a Winnie Blue will be permanently hanging out of his mouth. Same goes for his sister.

Pleather pleats

See, the shape for this couch is ok - kinda retro. Not great, but ok. Am not crazy about the colour, but it's not violently hideous.

However, I need to talk about the pleats... What the fug is going on there? Why would you do that to a serviceable couch? Why?

And the added bonus is: it's pleather. Yep "genuine imitation leather," according to the eBay ad.

Oh, and check out the lining on the back:


Am thinking a "Made in China" label is kinda redundant.

Get your hands off me!

Please God, no.

Really, what made you allow someone to take this couch from being a figment of their seriously fugged-up imagination and turn it into a reality? In purple.

Have a close look at it. It seems to have more than the requisite four fingers and a thumb per hand. But it doesn't. It's this weird phenomen I once read Matt Groening talking about. Apparently the reason The Simpsons only have three fingers and a thumb is because when you draw an anatomically correct hand it looks all fugged up and nasty. It's true: draw one yourself, or just pay attention to the odd cartoon that does have the right number of fingers on a human hand. It ends up looking like a bunch of sausages hanging off a plate.

This couch gets worse: seems like it bred and now we've got a baby to go with it...

Please, Lord, make it stop! I know the Pope is against interventionist contraception, but is having more couches like this in the world really going to help anybody?

Shiny, happy couches...

Have you ever seen a shinier couch in the whole wide world?

It looks kinda like Arnie Shwarzen-ham-and-egg-n'burger did back in his Mr Universe days - all oil gloss over taught, rippling leather-like skin.

I'm concerned that if I attempted to sit on this couch I would actually slip right off it and do some serious damage to my ass. Nobody wants that. I'm no JLo but I do like my butt and I would like to keep it in its current non-smashed-up state.