Fight Club

If you've seen Fight Club, you might remember the mention of IKEA. IKEA, with its promise of Scandinavian chic with one twist of an allan key. If only it were that simple.

1. I bought Holden a new wardrobe and bookshelf from IKEA.
2. If we owned this house I'd have put in built-ins (no, wait, I'd knock down the house first).
2. The boxes were delivered on Saturday morning by the two surliest delivery boys I've ever met.
3. I assembled one side of the wardrobe without mishap, then opened the second box.
4. One major piece in the second box was broken.
5. I drove to IKEA and got stuck in traffic.
6. It took 2.5 hours all up to replace the broken bit.
7. It took me most of the weekend to install one stupid wardrobe and one stupid bookshelf.

IKEA furniture may be cheap, but only if you don't factor in your own time and aggravation. On the other hand, the actual design, as in the way things fit together, is pretty cool - like the little dooverlacky that you use to put in nails so that they're in the right spot AND you don't bash your thumb with the hammer. Genius.

But not really worth it. While I was waiting for the unbroken bit, having exhausted the joys of browsing the Swedish food shop, I did some people-watching. There was a woman, probably in her mid to late 50s, who looked like she'd just taken the bandages off a very expensive facelift. She reminded me of Patsy in Ab Fab, but just a bit too shiny to be real. And as I looked at her, I thought 'You know what, if I had the money that you just spent on plastic surgery, I'd buy REAL bespoke furniture, not rubbish from IKEA'. Priorities, I guess.