Holly and I went to check out the new IKEA this past Saturday. We figured — actually, I figured, and she knew better — the crowds would have died down enough for us to be able to actually see the merchandise by then. I was wrong, of course, but we did get to catch a glimpse of a few items here and there.
Long before this IKEA opened, neither I nor Holly could figure out what all the hype was about. There’s no good reason why cheap chic furniture should be so great that crowds in London and Saudi Arabia are willing to die for it on opening day. After all, you can buy a lot of this same stuff at the big box retailers we already have at the same price — with the added bonus that you can actually pronounce the names of the furniture you’re buying.
My favorite feature of the store was the “Living in xxx square feet” areas, where xxx was some number too low for most red-blooded Americans to think about. The point of these mock-ups was to allow you to imagine yourself living in a sub-500-square-foot apartment with more amenities than you’ll ever need. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll ever need shampoo and conditioner dispensers in my shower. The real effect of these mock-ups, with so many people crammed in there, was to imagine yourself at a party in someone else’s sub-500-square-foot apartment.
My least favorite feature of the store was the architecture. Ultimately, it’s still a big box retailer, and it was built in the same form and mold as your standard suburban sap of blight. Despite its location at the edge of Atlantic Station, the only reasonable way to get there is to drive. Then again, the most reasonable way to get to Atlantic Station is to drive. It’s really a shame because Atlantic Station could have been a true urban neighborhood where its residents don’t have to live in service to the car. IKEA could have been an example for other big box retailers to follow. Then, I would have been more willing to shell out some dough.