For those of you who have been following me on Twitter, you will have noticed my recent excitement over a visit to everyone’s favourite Swedish furniture store. Yes, I am talking about IKEA, home of flat-packed, D.I.Y., stress-tested furniture. I love the idea of being able to put furniture together myself like this. It makes me feel like I am building something which, for a person who can’t even be bothered sewing up a loose button on a shirt, is a huge deal. Some of you may well argue whether the furniture-maker should be stress-testing the effects installation of their products might have on their customers as well.
If you are an IKEA fan like me, you will know that their instruction manuals don’t have any text at all. This is a great idea as it overcomes any language barriers that are commonly found in products made in non-English-speaking countries with badly translated instructions such as “insert screw in round hole behind floor” or “hook nail with driver in proper hammer”. Huh? (Ok, so I may have made those two up, but you get the idea.)
When I recently brought up the topic of building my new IKEA desk with colleagues, this brought up a new debate that went something like this:
“Oh, I hate it when you get to the end and you find there’s a piece missing from the box!”
“No, no! What’s worse is if you find at the end there’s an extra piece and you don’t know where it’s supposed to go!”