Ben writes:
February 2, 2010
Damn you Ikea
I went travelling the other day. To Rhodes, in Western Sydney. Nothing too exotic, although it felt like a long way, mostly thanks to Sydney’s incredibly craptacular public transport system and my lack of a car.
Anyway, I wasn’t going to Rhodes to relax – I was going to experience the very grown-up nightmare that is the Ikea super/mega/gigantor store.
As someone who travels a lot, I’ve always tried to avoid accumulating too much “stuff”. Like George Clooney’s character says in Up In The Air, the more stuff you own, the more chance there is that that stuff will weigh you down in one spot. You’re much more likely to head off overseas for a year if you don’t have to worry about putting a house-load of crap in storage, or trying to sell it...
But now, things have changed. My girlfriend and I decided it was time to upgrade our living quarters, and, given the dearth of decent furnished apartments in our price range, we decided to take the plunge and go unfurnished.
It all seemed like a great idea at the time – sweet new apartment, furniture we wouldn’t have to worry about ruining and not getting our bond back, getting exactly what we want… That was, until I found out how freaking expensive everything is.
Furniture is crazy expensive. You all know this, because you probably have furniture of your own. I do not. Which was why I was stunned to find that couches run into the thousands of dollars – beds, too. Then you throw in the bookcases and a TV and a TV stand and coffee table and bedside table … and you can see why I ended up going through the abject hell that is Ikea on a Saturday.
And of course, now that that’s over, the real hell begins: I have to try to put all this shit together. Wish me luck.
- Reblogged Ben Groundwater
2 comments:
I always thought there was something romantic about the new apartment routine of eating pasta on the floor for the first week until you can source a table and some chairs that aren’t hideously expensive. Or have a smell that immediately puts you off whatever food you’ve just sat down to eat. The trick though is to make sure that week doesn’t drag on into a month…
A month? I'd say there's at least a period of three months grace. After that, expecting your guests to pretend they love feeling all bohemian eating off their knees and sipping wine out of mugs (if they're lucky since bottles can be swigged from) is a bit much to ask.
Then again, I do recall sipping wine etc from plastic cups at a friend's place for a significant amount of time last year, finally getting over it, and turning up with a gift of wine glasses.
NB to friends - feel free to gift me furniture!
Post a Comment