The United Nations of IKEA

Since I moved out of my marital home I’ve been living in a two-bedroom apartment with a few items the-soon-to-be-ex Mrs. Farrago and I agreed I would take with me, a few items I was allowed to take from the office, and a few items I’ve purchased since the move. Among those items was NOT a proper bed.

Until now.

I have the box spring and mattress from the house. There was a spare set – as well as the marital bed’s frame – upon which ts2bx Mrs. Farrago now sleeps. I had the basic steel frame, but the box spring sat perfectly on the floor, so I figured, why bother? (Let’s not mention that I didn’t have bolts to fasten said steel frame together….) But it wasn’t pretty, so I’ve been waiting for the right time to buy a “bed.”

That time was Tuesday.

I went to the retail mecca that is IKEA and picked up the items I had a while back picked out. They are, of course, the MALM bed frame; the matching, attaching MALM side table; and the totally unrelated BENNO CD storage tower.

I assembled the bed and the side table Wednesday evening, inevitably rearranging the room so I could walk around in it. The birch veneer smartly complements the natural pine HOL storage chest and the chest of drawers, the funky Swedish name of which I do not recall, both purchased at IKEA several years back, when ts2bx Mrs. Farrago and I were a couple.



The MALM bed and accompanying side table, sold separately.


The HOL storage bin purchased several years ago.



The chest of drawers purchased years ago.
I don't know its IKEA name.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Every time I go into IKEA, I am overwhelmed. Nearly every item I see is cool beyond words. Innovative yet simple design, clever convenience, smart storage – everything in the store seems to fall under one or more of these adjective praises. I’ve always wondered what it would look like to start with a bare dwelling and furnish it entirely with IKEA products. Well, I guess it would look much like an IKEA store. But I mean, what would a home look like? How would it feel to live in it? Would I feel transported to Sweden once I stepped inside the front door? Or, again, just to an IKEA store?

Maybe I’ll make that a goal – IKEA-ize my apartment!

It truly is an international retail company. Some may say – often with a look of disgust on their puss – that Target is an international retailer, a French-owned company. “Tarzhay,” if you will. But I’ve been to France a few times and I never saw a “Tarzhay” there, but I did see an IKEA store. And I saw one very recently in Germany.

IKEA. The name is an acronym representing the name of the company’s founder – Ingvar Kamprad – the farm where he grew up – Elmtaryd – and his home village in Sweden – Agunnaryd. But the name might as well be Swedish for “international glue.”

Consider this: IKEA largely sells the exact same products in each of its 273 stores in 36 countries (wikipedia), and, with rare exception, by the same product names. No matter which store you visit worldwide, once you’re in the door, it’s much the same experience as another. Each product requiring assembly is accompanied by a graphic instruction manual – there are no words other than the name of the product, no languages to master and subsequently mangle, only images showing how to assemble the item.


"Easy to assemble! Literacy not required!"


It turns out that the MALM bed is one of their most popular. So Wednesday evening, while I was crawling around on my bedroom floor, poring over randomly dispersed planks of fiberboard and dedicated hardware, it is very likely that in each of 35 other countries around the planet there was at least one person also rolling around on the floor, following the same wordless instruction guide, attempting to bring a bit of Scandinavian design into his or her home! We’re kin! We share the bond of MALM! We have IKEA in our blood!

And I’ll bet, even if it’s just one little item, that some of you readers are my IKEA brethren… and sistren, too.

Gimme a HUG!