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The journey to Ikea Brent Park by bus is merely a pain in the arse. The journey back - carrying stuff - is an utter bastard.

The chair I wanted is quite definitely not in the current range. They do have some complete shit that would be quite good except that there is no way to actually fix the back at the height you set it to. The height is set by resting it in some sort of notched arrangement which it happily pops out of if, e.g., you move your back or shoulders while sitting in it.

The bedroom furniture department was where the aesthetic life was smothered out of me. It's partly gratifying and partly a subject for despair to realise at thirty-six that the aesthetic opinions you formed at sixteen were in fact correct the first time.

So, no bed or chair. I did get three pillows and a butterfly corkscrew (which I wanted to stab myself or everyone around me with repeatedly). And a king-size quilt from the Tesco across the carpark. Which was damn cosy last night.

  1. If it's not in the catalogue, it doesn't fucking exist any more and never did.
  2. Don't even attempt it without a car.
  3. Make damn sure you know precisely what you want. Get it and get the fuck out.
  4. Don't go in the first place.

(no subject)

Date: 2002-10-04 05:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] marnameow.livejournal.com
We go to the Croyden one - it's really quiet at night, usually. And then get them to deliver most of what we buy. I like IKEA for the cheap kitchen gadgetry. But I'm a kitchen-slut....

Plus the Croydon one has a tram-stop across the road.

>> It's partly gratifying and partly a subject for despair to realise at thirty-six that the aesthetic opinions you formed at sixteen were in fact correct the first time.

What are you looking for in a bed, anyways?

(no subject)

Date: 2002-10-04 06:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hirez.livejournal.com
Friends Rob & Simon (from my previous and more peripatetic life) who'd both done the squat thing in their own previous lives, managed to live an entirely demountable lifestyle.

For instance, bookshelves were plastic crates mounted on a plank-and-breezeblock substrate.

If I could find record boxes that stack, I'd be a happy Camper.

Though of course getting one's entire Pile of Crap into a succession of 19" racks and flightcases brings to mind the Ugly Spectre of Roadiness...

Though I guess it was good enough for my grandfather, since his Officer's Demountable Chest is a fine, brass-bound furniturial object - and not a hint of particleboard or woodex-effect melamine in sight.

(no subject)

Date: 2002-10-04 09:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hirez.livejournal.com
You'll have to go away and then come back 15 years ago then. See you on Claremont Road.

(no subject)

Date: 2002-10-04 11:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hirez.livejournal.com
I knew a couple of people with straight(ish) jobs who lived there.

I blame Sexbat for reminding me of flat-trashing parties.

Anyway, the Philosophy of Reduced Belongings is an interesting mental exercise. One which quickly gives rise to the Philosophy of Robust Portability.

Of course it all falls over if you want to keep things like lathes.

futons

Date: 2002-10-04 03:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] girfan.livejournal.com
The ones at Ikea are reasonably priced...and you need not have bought a frame.


Check the Futon Company (there is one on Tottenham Court Road).
I got a beautiful hard wood sofa bed frame there for under £200 and they delivered.
I already had the futon, though.


There is also a place in Camden on the road that goes east/west by Staples Market (no A-Z to tell you the name) that sells futons and bed frames.

Re: futons

Date: 2002-10-05 05:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] inulro.livejournal.com
There's also a lovely futon shop on Muswell Hill High Street.

Jodi

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