Swedish Furniture Whores

My recent, and first-ever, trip to Ikea revealed two things to me: the Swedes have excellent furniture, and they are pretentious, cocky, confusing bastards who need punched in the face for creating a store that inspires such madness. I went to the Ikea in Robinson Twp. looking for a set of drinking glasses, and I left a frazzled, confused and somewhat enlightened mess. The store itself is a paradox wrapped up in a flaky, low-carb enigma. For as much as it is insane and disorganized, it has a wonderful, cost-efficient zen about it that really makes me want to go back.

When you initially walk into the store, you say to yourself "Hey, where's da stuff?!" The front windows of the store were filled with colored plastic balls, covered with a fine topping of children, and for a second I thought I accidentally drove to Chuckie Cheeses (again). There isn't any merchandise or anything on the inside of the door, just a staircase leading insanity.

You walk up the stairs and start a long chain of cells that is as cluttered and maddening as a yard sale after a tornado. But at the same time, it's clever. Each cell is a room, and the cells are grouped by the type of room they are. So you initially walk into a cluster of living rooms, each with a different set of furniture and decorations. And you can buy anything you see sitting around, from laptops to ottomans to plates. My biggest issue with this idea is that the items to buy aren't just sitting nearby on a shelf. You have to take a card or write down the number of the stuff you want, and then go down to their Home Depot-esque warehouse section, which is conveniently hidden from the rest of the world.

My friend Chris described the whole experience like going on a field trip to the zoo... you walk by looking at everything, but it's a one way path. So if you want to go back and get something in the bathroom section, you have to walk BACK through the living room, the kitchen, and the backyard. It's rather frustrating, especially since there is no rhyme or reason to the layout of the clusters. This is a subliminal form of punishment invoked on us capitalist pigs by the socialist Swedes... you wanna buy stuff from them, you gotta walk for it you fatties!

Liz and I were overwhelmed, with a side helping of anxiety, while walking through this build-it-yourself wonderland. There were so many people in such a crowded space, but I couldn't shake the feeling that they were all hanging out in my house! It was if I was having a party because my parents were out of town, and everyone invited invited four other people. People were yelling to each other, married couples fighting over crushed velvet, and babies wailing like that wall in Israel. The circus environment was completed when a young boy slammed his body against a floor-to-ceiling window and smushed his face screaming at the top of his lungs.

Ikea is one cocky furniture outlet. Their signs, all of which are filled with Swedish furniture designer names, just scream elitist. I don't pay attention to anything they say except for the price, which is surprisingly low for this kind of store. I knew I was out of place here just looking at the people shopping there. They were all artsy Pittsburgh folk (with ripped jeans, bee's waxed hair, et al.) and Middle Eastern engineer types. This was obviously not my bag, but I oh wanted it to be. I'd love to fill my dorm with this colorful, comfortable furniture. But alas, my Cougar and checking account weren't going to be able support such a venture.

I left the store that day empty handed. Their cups weren't what Liz and I were looking for. Instead we took the natural progress of life and went from Ikea to the Dollar Store, a place I fit in nicely. I'll return to Ikea some day... and I can only imagine that those Swedish bastards are going to a Netherland Wal-Mart and complaining until their skin actually takes on color.