Now That Was a Retail Experience

Did you know that the Ikea in Atlanta is the largest one in North America? Or so I am told. I don't really get there much, which is odd given my tripartite reverence for things 1) Scandinavian; 2) modern; and 3) cheap. Also my reverence for meatballs, which exceeds my reverence for the first three things. Last Sunday I got to cruise down there with my sister and my mom. It's a treat enough for us to all be on the same continent. Put us in an Ikea and we are like pigs in slop.

We went with a special eye out for their fabric by the yard. I have never paid much attention to those bolts of fabric they have, possibly because I only had eyes for Marimekko. But Amy had recently made some wall hangings out of Ikea fabric that she got at her store in Sydney, so we went to the fabric and poked around.

Without further ado, ZOMG have you seen this stuff?

These are all examples of their Annamoa patterns. Holy Crapoleum. That red fox and that crab are enough to slay me. I think the whole internet already freaked itself over the Annamoa range when it came out back in the fall, but I must have been busy with something else. Amy blogged about it. But I had no idea how many different patterns there were.

So Amy and Mom and I got into the fabric section and then there was an unseemly amount of moaning. You know, like, "Oh my God look at that! Look at how cute it is! Look at it RIGHT NOW." Do you ever see something in a store that is so wonderful and perfect for you that it actually causes you discomfort, like it creates a kind of desire that's painful even as it is about to be satisfied? It was like that. A full on Ikeagasm.

Or is that only me?

Usually I'm the one to get all worked up, but Amy just ran out in front. She started getting a little bit frenzied. She was all, "This is so cute that it makes me want to hurt someone. AAAAHHH!" I knew what she was getting at. And then we saw this.

Then she kind of started to rave. You need to click that picture so you can see the little mountain goats on the footbridge, and the little snowy cabins. It's got a kind of Japanese landscape thing going on, but also Scandinavian folk tale-ish at the same time. Don't say I didn't warn you. Anyway, back to the raving. We all started to proclaim our imminent death from the cuteness. "I died. I died and I'm dead because I need this," and "I'm going to drive out and park at the beach with this fabric and climb in the backseat with it." You know, just the way you talk when you're shopping. Amy was all, "Oh I am so ANGRY because of how cute this is! I want to punch someone! $7.99 a yard, that's crazy, AAARRRGH!"

I was laughing at her freakout. Then, then, she turned to the mild-mannered Ikea employee who was cutting our fabric, and she goes, "Christopher, has anybody ever just punched you in the face because THIS IS SO CUTE?"

She said that. To the Ikea man. And this isn't really in character for her, the proposing of physical violence for textile-related reasons. She's really the polite one.

I felt pure pleasure at witnessing this spectacle. I turned to look at the nice Ikea man, and he just kind of shrugged his shoulders, or as much as he could shrug while cutting with scissors. It did not faze him. Like, "Hmm, punch someone, mmm hmm." Perhaps we're not the only ones who have basically lost our minds in there.

It can happen in there, man. It's some kind of Ikea thing. Something to do with the fumes of pressed wood and cinnamon rolls.

Somehow in the fray I wound up with two yards of that blue fabric. What wall I'm going to put this on, I have no idea. As you probably know, I am pretty much okay in the wall hanging department. My mom got two yards of the same thing. I think Amy bought one of everything, and she threw a display shelf through a plate glass window. We had to leave after that.

Amy left on Thursday night and I sure miss my shopping buddy. Not many people say things that surprise and delight me like that. And seriously, that fabric. $7.99 a yard! It is enough to drive you to the brink.