We've all been there. We all have stories. It's like we're comrades in the search for cheap deals and funky furnishings.
I hadn't been there since I was a kid.
We had Ikea stuff growing up, it was cheap, it lasted. Each of us had our room colour themes, Shannon was Red, Ashley was Blue, I was Yellow. I'm not sure if we picked those colours ourselves or if our parents just threw us into the ball room and picked stuff out themselves and then hopefully remembered to pick us up later on the way out. We each got a lamp, a numbered cloth thingy with pockets that hung on your wall and a fold up chair in our respective colors. The lamps have long been disposed of, the chairs are still kicking around and we just received our numbered pocketed thingies back after our step brothers grew out of them. There are also some bookshelves and desk/drawer units that we grew up with still in the garage. This puts some of those items at around 25 years old, at the least. So you get a very long winded bang for your Ikea spent buck.
I went back this weekend for the first time in 15 years. I was nervous. It was like seeing an ex after a really long time. Could I hold it together long enough to act cool? I had an idea of what I needed and an idea of what I wanted. Those things differ, a lot, all the time. I also had a budget for what I
I arrived at Ikea with two of my old roommates. Trusted adversaries and confidants, ones I could say to "I have a serious table issue, do I need two side tables and a coffee table or just two side tables? But what if I move my bed and get a new couch?"
And they would get it, and answer like it wasn't a bid deal I was stressed out over tables.
So fine, I had my list, we travelled through the top floor with the displays fine and dandy, I stuck to my list and had my aisle and bin numbers listed and written down. Done and done.
Melody: Well let's go downstairs and see what's there.
Me: What's downstairs?
Melody: All the little things.
Me: Well, pfft, I'm set for that let's have a look.
What I didn't realize is that you can't exit Ikea without wandering through a million miles of plates, towels, sheets, cups, napkins, lamps and vases in every single different shade you can imagine, with 14 different patterns and sizes.
Like a lamb to the slaughter.
My eyes bulged, went different directions, everything they could do but focus and run for the hills. My carefully written list and budget were thrown to the wind as I spotted a bluish glass vase for. I didn't know what it's purpose was, or if it was also secretly a soup pot, I just knew I wanted it and it was 'only' 1.99.
Jars? Sure I need jars. I love jars so, so much. I need 4 for 2 bucks too, and a freaking bamboo holder for 'em too. Why the hell not right? I have shit lying around my house just waiting for the right jar. Ikea is the place.
Towels. Towels in every single color of the rainbow, cause that's how they have them displayed.
Pillows. In the display rooms upstairs they have entire rooms devoted to the colour of red. So now you immediately decide it's time to make that your colour too. Except you don't own anything red. Head downstairs, they have red baskets, red shelves, red kettles, everything will match, just as long as you place those items in the same room at home because really, in reality, you have nothing that is red, nothing that will go along with the twelve red pillows you have in your cart.
Oh look, more jars.
Shelves? I love shelves. And brackets. Don't need them, but let's spend sometime perusing this section for a while.
This place is like a hoarders nightmare. Or dream. I don't know. There is room, after room, after room of stuff. 600 tea-lights for a dollar? Okay. Thirteen thousand bug shaped multicolored lights? Sure, what the hell? Let's get starfish shaped vases while were at it, because we might never see them again selling anywhere ever and I need it now.
I witnessed a few domestic disputes while pondering whether or not I need a dolphin shaped cheese platter.
Wife: What do you think? Red or green napkins?
Husband: Well our house is pretty green already...
Wife: So you think we should get the red napkins?
Husband: No, I'm saying we don't need napkins.
Wife: But if we don't need green we should get red...
Husband: If we get red it'll look like Christmas honey, walk away from the napkins....
There are crazed families trying to get through there as quick as possible, flying down the aisles with carts full of children and cheap Swedish nappies, people wandering aisles holding whisks with great authority. Men curled in corners, women sitting in bathtubs with imaginary glasses of wine, couples holding measuring tape up to one another, wondering if they are worthy enough for a back splash in Appalachian yellow.
It's a bit morbid how Ikea works. You walk in, happy and hopeful, the displays are bright and cheerful and full or promise and ideas.
And you're led downstairs like a fruit fly to (insert anything in your house, ever here), to the place where your happy little Ikea life will shatter. Suddenly there are proper decisions to be made and measurements to be known. And it will all come down to how much will power you have, how much stamina, and whether or not you've eaten or drank anything in the last two and half hours. Because that's how long you've been down there, and no you can't tell because the only thing that has a proper clock is your cell phone and it's shut down because it's out of range so I guess you'll have to buy a 3 dollar wall clock.
Happily I can report I didn't spend past my budget, I had money leftover for lunch. I got my LAIVA bookcase and my LACK side table because I had a SERIOUS LACK in BUDGET. So there Ikea, you didn't get me, I passed your test, huzzah!!!!
Except I'm totally coming back, bypassing upstairs and will spend my entire time collecting everything I dutifully ignored last weekend.
