wow, that title has a lot of vowels... right, let us begin. today's offering is a very silly, drunken rambling, scrawled just last night: mere hours ago!!
i was flipping through an ikea catalogue (not shopping but rather, making art - découpage, dahling.) and it suddenly occurred to me that they are no longer marketing to me. the first clue was the 5-page section on orthopedic beds. well… i didn’t read the literature to get their qualifications, but they sure looked healthy. like those beds from those commercials during Three’s Company, with the silvered lady and her polydent smile, holding a remote control that eased her into pleasing contortions.
but it appears that i am officially no longer the kind of folk ikea like to associate with. this is startling! i mean - who am i if not an ikea consumer?? while it’s true that i never graduated past ikea-neophyte status, with the odd plant or bookcase, and the occasionally enjoyed underpriced foodstuffs tenuously garanteeing my membership. but at least i was a part of it! sucked by its undertow to a place of belonging.
i saw it coming of course. it started back when they began focusing so much of their floorspace to the breeders. while still generationally simpatico, already i was beginning to be excluded from the dream of ikea. but the tea lights and chrome light fixtures kept me hoping, drawn in, drooling in the storefronts of their ready-made chic – as playful and contrived as “right out of bed” hair product.
but now i am a child alone, no ikea to fall back on, no storefront to call my home.
meh.
(she shrugs, laughs, takes another sip of beer.)
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