Friday, September 16, 2011

Instructions Not Included, Or, How I Made Ikea My Bitch (Again)

Here's one thing I like about Ikea.

Wait, actually there are lots of things I like about Ikea, but this is the one I'm talking about right now.

One thing I like about Ikea is when you build Ikea stuff, it's like playing with giant Tinker Toys and you have to get it right or the thing won't work. Unlike Tinker Toys, however, there's no room for creativity and learning, plus the instructions and parts are more or less idiot-proof.

Mostly. Sometimes I think Ikea should come with levels of difficulty. Video games have levels of difficulty. So do Legos and Erector Sets, if memory serves me correctly. I mean, shit, even vibrators come with levels of difficulty. I don't even know what the fuck that means for vibrators, but I sure as hell know I'm not going to present myself at the register with a Level One vibrator when the Level Six one is right there, taunting me with all of its world-knowledge and experience.

Some things make no damn sense.

Quit thinking about vibrators. I'm spinning a tale of how I've just done battle with Ikea and won.

An example of Ikea Level One would be the Lack end table.
Please note how I don't tidy up before taking pictures of stuff in my house.
Screw legs on. Turn over. Done! You have a table!

I should admit, however, that the Lack end table has, in fact, made me its bitch. That's because Ikea cleverly keeps them at the entrance of the warehouse where you go to collect your stuff. There you are, with your dutifully written list of product numbers, aisle and shelf numbers, and there it is. The Lack! So sleek and simple, and for a mere 35 lira, it's chump change next to the 300 or so I have always racked up by the time I get to the warehouse. One of these days I'm just going to go ahead and get the red one, goddammit.

Our wardrobe, on the other hand, would be an example of, like, Ikea Level Five Hundred Million Billion. That fucker took me all day. One thing I completely suck at is being able to visualize what an object will look like turned in space five times to the right, or what it should look like after having had six things done to it. That shit is keeping my IQ down, I swear.

Also, I'm not very good at hammering nails into a narrow piece of pressboard with a thin piece of cardboard on top and I have to guess at where the edges of the narrow pieces of pressboard are underneath. So, good thing that part is at the back of the wardrobe, because I did some damage. But then I finished the wardrobe and filled it up with our crap and made it my bitch. It pleases me so greatly when I successfully assemble some Ikea thingy and put it to its sleek and efficient use. It's empowering in a sad and idiot-proof kind of way.

Anyway, for about two years I've been lusting after this lamp.
Oh baby.
 They no longer had it in orange, but I think white was the better choice, in retrospect. If you wait long enough on Ikea stuff, the price drops eventually. I'm pretty sure I got the last of these lamps, and at a quarter of the price it used to be.

Hah! Step one of making you my bitch, Ikea!

I'm pretty sure this is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.

I got some sheets at a quarter of the price too, by waiting like three years. They remind me of this Shaker Tree of Life painting.

So I got the lamp home and discovered the instructions had gone missing. I knew the instructions were there when I bought it because I opened it up to check and count the pieces, seeing as it was the last one and I thought it could have been returned for being faulty somehow. So probably I dropped the instructions somewhere.

Still, I'm a little bit scared of it.
No matter. That's what the Internet is for. I can't say I've made the Internet my bitch (and I never would, for fear it would start holding back on its sweet, sweet information and stupid animal videos), but I do know how to work it.

Like many things in life, it's the apparently simple things that get you. I thought the Fillsta table lamp would be like an Ikea Level Three -- it required a screwdriver, the right-sized light bulb, and a bunch of pleasingly vinyl puzzle-piece-looking bits.

Tell you what, that fucker took me an hour to put together. There were some seriously fiddly moments and I failed to pay enough attention to detail so I originally stuck in some pieces upside down. Secret Ikea level Fifteen that you can only reach with a hack, maybe?

No matter. It's totally worth it. I did battle with Ikea and made it my bitch. Let's have another look, shall we?

Totally worth the trouble.
Dear boots, Will you please be my bitch?

And speaking of things I'm lusting after, I've just learned about these boots.

Shiver! Cream! At first I was all, "No way can I have these boots!" But then I realized that my students loans will be TOTALLY FUCKING PAID OFF in the next month or so, depending on various worldwide economic factors, and that these boots cost only slightly more than the usual monthly payment I've been shelling out for the last 15 years. So maybe I owe myself some sort of boot or leather-related reward for being quite possibly the only American in the world still paying off student loans.

My student loans are probably one of these.

 What do you think?

1 comment:

Jack Scott said...

Ah, IKEA, the store of choice for middle class poor everywhere.