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Just Stop, Ikea!

This weekend I had the opportunity to visit a quaint antique store.  Perusing down the aisles of beloved memories, I could not help but reminisce upon my own.  Childhood breakfasts at a mahogany dining table and looking into a glass showcases, admiring meticulously collected and proudly displayed tea sets and silverware. 

My father would collect ornamental plates from across the globe.  I would always ask him why we do not eat from their delicate surfaces.  A simple man, his answer was straight to he point “we’d chip the varnish”.  I did not know what ‘varnish’ was, but I did understand that to ‘chip’ meant ruining the lovely image presented on the dining ware.

As I ran my hand across the time tested pieces of furniture, I could not help but wonder what the future brings to the once highly prized redwood tables and oak dining chairs with the advent of mass production.  We are trading the heavy and awkwardly shaped items for boxed, minimal and often bland furniture that often requires assembly.  The Ikea “Billy” bookcase is invading our private spaces to bring a sort of mass conformity to our inner sanctum.

To make my stance against the the uniform, particleboard virus, I purchased a lovely handmade bookcase.  In all honesty, it cost less than a comparable Ikea piece.

Perhaps one day, I will be lulled by the call of easily transportable and ‘convenient’ furniture.  For now, I am happy to fill shelves that hold history, emotion and a few characteristic chips in the finish.

books

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