Dear IKEA (upper-case intentional)
I was not prepared for my first visit to an IKEA store. Sure, there was this Ryan Reynolds’ take and there are late night jokes in which Seth Meyers connects everything political to an IKEA furniture line that he was obviously not deft enough to assemble.
But you are so uniquely you.
Are you retail, because why the awesome food
When I walked in, I saw food pictures, lots of them. Norwegian salmon and Lingonberry jam flirted with me through their mind’s eye. Your restaurant is a destination in itself, and it is true that one has to queue for at least one cycle of the lunar calendar to get to order. You position it as a “take a break in-between buying all the ramekins you can” kind of place. It’s more of a “if I must have an eating disorder, let it be here” kind of place. Could go there just to eat. But as one knows, that is a statistical impossibility because, as I mentioned before, ceramic ramekins in white, ten thousand mason jars and little square trays to organize every last hair clip and mate-less single earrings.
I am happy if my Swedish is a little off (it was never on), no honestly
It takes a while to learn Swedish. It’s probably longer than that. Given the product names are printed most prominently in Swedish, I always planned to carry a Swedish-English pocket dictionary or have a handy app downloaded. Till I realized, peering and squinting at one Axag and one Hampdan left of one Vitsippa, that I was looking at pillows. I did not need to know Swedish just yet. As long as I knew my pillows from my steel sautepan (which you make a sexy one of), I could conquer the world with zero Swedish proficiencies. Bring it on, you LANGVARIGs, FLYTANDEs, you FORHOHAs and all of you KORKENS. Sounds like I am this close to writing Harry Potter fan fiction, maybe a spin-off set in Durmstrang.
Every meme ever on how it is easier to stop a Game of Thrones binge watch mid-season than assemble IKEA furniture, is earned! The first one hour is spent just flipping through the manual and setting aside all the screws, the bearings, the bushings, the wheels and all the Apollo Mission 11 crew members. Then a couple of marriages down the line, the family has successfully managed to assemble a book case, with only a few edges chipped off with a saw. Edges of the bookcase, only the bookcase! No other collateral damage! Phew.
It would still be worth it for even a mere splotch of Lingonberry jam. My view is that there is no such thing as this jam. Nordic Gods make it in their unpronounceable heavens and IKEA collects it directly perched on one of their Bekvams and Masterbys. Step stools, I mean step stools.
I would go just for the food, clinically speaking.