Forty inches. That's the width of my front door, and it's the reason I almost didn't get the Rowe Furniture sofa I'd had my eye on for months. The delivery guys measured it against the door, looked at each other, and said it would be tight. It was. We had to angle it through, and the armrest scraped the frame—leaving a black scuff that took twenty minutes to scrub off.
Before that, I'd been obsessing over fabric swatches and seat cushions, but the real constraint was the path from the truck to my living room. If you're in an apartment building or have narrow hallways, that's the first thing to measure. I'm talking the door width of every doorway, the stairwell width if you have stairs, and the elevator dimensions if you're not on the ground floor. A 90-inch sofa isn't going anywhere if your elevator is 80 inches inside.
Then there's the room itself. I sketched my floor plan—just rectangles on graph paper—and placed the sofa in it. That sounds nerdy, but it's the only way I caught that the 100-inch sofa would eat the entire wall in my 12x14 living room. I ended up with the 92-inch version, which leaves 20 inches on each side for a lamp and a floor plant. That made the difference between a room you can walk through and one that's all couch.
Seat depth is the other thing. I assumed deeper is better, but that's a mistake. My previous sofa was 26 inches deep, and my legs fell asleep after an hour. The Rowe I got is 22 inches, and it's actually more comfortable because I'm not sinking into a pit. I'm 5'9", so I'm not exactly a lanky person, but 22 inches is enough for lounging with my legs over the armrest, and I can sit upright without my feet not touching the floor. If you're under 5'6", a 22-inch seat might make your knees feel like you're on a church pew, so sit on the floor model and check where your feet land.
Fabric wear is the third constraint. I considered leather but read a few reviews that said Rowe's leather gets sweaty in the summer and stiff in the winter. I went with a performance velvet from their catalog—it's technically a poly blend that's supposed to resist stains. After three months, I've spilled coffee twice and both times wiped it clean with a damp cloth. There's a faint watermark if you look closely, but I'm fine with that. The cushion covers zip off and supposedly can be washed, but I haven't tried that because the instructions say air dry only, and I don't trust my dryer with anything that fits over a memory foam cushion.
The delivery experience is its own constraint. I'd heard horror stories, so I took the day off work and regretted it because the guys came at 4:30 pm instead of the morning window I was quoted. That's not Rowe's fault—they contract with local delivery teams depending on where you live. But they did bring it in plastic wrap, unwrapped it, and hauled away the packaging. I was worried they'd leave all that cardboard, but they did the curbside recycle center thing.
What I'd check next time: the price. Rowe Furniture is a step above what you'll find at Wayfair, but it's not a custom-tier brand. The build quality is solid—hardwood frames, eight-way hand-tied springs, which is more than the big box stores offer. But you can find similar construction for less if you wait for a sale. I bought mine during their July event and paid about $2,400 for the 92-inch three-seater plus a matching ottoman. Regular price was closer to $3,000, and that's a big chunk of change.
The one thing I wish I'd measured was the window clearance for delivery. My living room has a bay window, and the delivery guys had to pivot the sofa around the corner of the window ledge. There was maybe a two-inch gap, and I was holding my breath. It cleared, but barely. If I'd had a larger size, it wouldn't have.
So, the one factor that decides whether a Rowe Furniture sofa is worth it is your doorway width. If you can't get it into the room, nothing else matters. You'll be paying return fees on a sofa you can't keep. Measure every door, every corner, and think about your elevator. It's the dullest, most annoying part of buying furniture, and it's the one that actually decides everything.