The IKEA Experience by Jane Tolbert

Mies van der Rohe Barcelona chairs – Saarinen womb chairs – B&B Italia – Ligne Roset . . . just a few reasons why I have never bought furniture. Instead, I have lived for years on slightly tattered furnishings, waiting for the day when I could justify a designer item.

I’m probably like many people. I have lived on castoffs—some of which are quite nice—from family or neighbors or the occasional estate sale. I have made only the occasional purchase (such as a yellow armoire and a Louis XV style small table). My excuse? Well, the price for the designer items, and then the fear the furniture may be damaged by pets or broken during one of my frequent moves. As my grandparents used to say, “Three moves is equivalent to one fire.”

My inaction gradually wore down. My daughter planned a visit to the States (and I had no comfortable furniture), and the kids’ threatened to post a photo of the living room on FaceBook.

A gift card from my son for IKEA got me to rethink my current MO. To ensure that I actually used the card, my two kids drove me to the IKEA store in Orlando a couple of weeks ago. I knew they meant business--we would be in that store until I located a couch and bookshelves. We wandered through aisles and aisles of household items. Sofas, chairs, tables, bookshelves, lamps, and rows and rows of kitchen items, all of which were in bright colors.

The furniture is reasonably priced and seems to withstand people and pets, at least that has been my experience with some castoff IKEA furniture. But there is just one small detail. . . . The IKEA experience involves a lot of hands-on work. Everything has to be assembled. A venture I would never undertake alone.

We selected our items, marked our list with a small wooden pencil, identifying the product, aisle and row. For the larger items, customers recover them on the ground floor in an area resembling a warehouse. The L-shaped couch came somewhat compressed. The bookshelves were quite heavy. We really needed to be two people to load our carts (though the other shoppers were quite helpful). We made it to the checkout, paid with the gift card and arranged for a transporter to deliver our merchandise. There, that wasn’t so bad.

A few days later, the furniture arrived at 2 p.m. The delivery men unloaded numerous large boxes and smiled. “Have a great afternoon,” they said, driving off.
And then, the real work began. The bookshelves and small tables were easy. But the L-shaped couch required teamwork. We put covers on cushions. We screwed on feet and armrests. And we even had to puncture two small holes in the fabric covering to complete the assembly. After four hours, we finished at 6 p.m. Although the Barcelona chairs will have to wait, the living room looks pretty good.

“We’re not through yet,” the kids said, pointing to the old TV, now an ungainly item posed atop my sleek Swedish bookshelves.

Next year. . . .

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