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.)
The issue is that most sofas – at least the chic, elegantly lined ones I actually want – seem to be designed for living rooms with more square footage. And if, by some miracle, they are short enough, they’re usually so deep that I have to pass anyway. (My small living room, unfortunately, could never.) But I don’t want a loveseat. I want something more sophisticated, like the New York lady I am. Hence, the settee.
The term – essentially a slimmer, more formal, scaled-down version of a sofa – is, according to my British editor, far more common across the pond, though it was a revelation to me. The first one that really took me came from McGee & Co., featuring the antique-style fringe I’ve always wanted on a sofa, paired with a lower profile that takes up far less visual real estate than a loveseat ever could.
Clearer sightlines are obviously nice for any apartment living room, but oddly enough, that isn’t even the real reason I’ve started favoring settees.
Loveseats, I’ve noticed, often suffer from awkward proportions. Scaled up, they’d look wrong. Scaled down, they still look wrong. Settees, on the other hand, seem to retain the dignity of a full-sized sofa, just… cropped. They look like they were designed this way on purpose, which as a style editor, is music to my eyes.
Now, Google will tell you settees aren’t known for comfort. This is not untrue. They tend to sit more upright and sometimes look less cushy. But after delving into a fairly deep research rabbit hole, I found plenty with enough comfort-forward details to make using one as a primary sofa feel markedly more reasonable.
So whether you’re reckoning with a small apartment living room like mine, dreaming of more sophisticated seating in a bedroom or office, or simply want to trick the eye into thinking your space is larger than it is, it might be time to stop settling for a loveseat.
My findings, below.
The striking seat that started it all. Low-slung and armless, it keeps visual obstructions (the death of any open-looking small space) to an absolute minimum. As minimal as possible, that is, while still featuring fringe, an on-trend accent I’m categorically unwilling to negotiate on.
Skirted sofas are another furniture trend I’ve long admired from afar. In reality, though, the lack of visible space beneath the seat can make a small room feel claustrophobic, which is why I’d never fully committed. This one, also armless, feels like the perfect pinstriped compromise.
Feeling fancy? Arhaus’ Tangier Settee takes on a classic Chesterfield silhouette and commits fully with deep tufting, generously stuffed cushions, even proper little casters at the feet. It’s a practical pick if you plan on rotating it between living room and guest room, or if you’re the kind of person who likes their to keep options open.
No one is mistaking this sinuous shape for a loveseat. It reads more like the elegant, organically informed sofa you’ve been eyeing took a trip through the dryer. Exactly what I want. (It’s also available in ivory bouclé, for extra snuggles.)
Looks longer than 65 inches, no? Thus, the space-saving, eye-tricking magic of a settee. This one is right in line with current sofa trends, can be customized in dozens of upholstery options, and, like the Arhaus pick above, sits on casters so you can roll it wherever you please.
On a tighter budget, this fainting-sofa–style settee still pulls serious weight in the sophistication department. With all the right angles and a welcome hit of asymmetry, it slips neatly into snug living room corners.
Living in an NYC studio has taught me a lot, and the living room is really just the warm-up. Where careful choreography matters most is the kitchen. One thing I’ve relied on for years is a now-viral IKEA kitchen cart – a total godsend for squeezing every inch out of a compact cookspace.
