The IKEA generation – I’ve got the G-Plan blues - 2nd October 2012
This weekend Mrs Baldwin went to IKEA and bought some new furniture for our bedroom. That meant that for a handful of hours on Sunday afternoon I was tasked with constructing her new purchases. I have no problems with self-build furniture; I have assembled stacks of it over the years and am the self-proclaimed king of flat pack. The thing is though - I hate the stuff.
I used to own some decent furniture, at least to my eye. The kind of furniture that was made by craftsmen not just cut out by machines; where the materials were genuine bits of tree as opposed to chipboard and MDF; where the grain was genuine and not just stuck on; where joints had names like ‘dovetail’ and didn’t rely on funny fixings to hold them together.
Some examples by way of illustration: I used to own a teak G-Plan table and four matching chairs - the table was round but extended into an oval shape. This dining ensemble was built properly and built to last – it was turned, mitred, glued and screwed and it was finished nicely too - it was a genuine thing of quality. And I didn’t have to build it either, it was done for me and it was done with care and consideration.
It got replaced with an IKEA birch coloured (note not actual birch) table that to be fair was a better shape for the dining room and would seat more people. To add insult to injury though, I had to build it myself and then watch my teak table take a hike.
In the kitchen, I used to own this behemoth pine farmhouse table and chairs. This was a five foot, all timber rectangle construction where the table top was a good two and a half inches thick. I had six matching pine chairs to go with it.
For those readers that remember the early eighties well, when the Cold War was at its height and when there was genuine fear about nuclear Armageddon; the Government used to issue this leaflet called ‘Protect and Survive’. The leaflet addressed the simple steps that households could take to increase their chances of surviving a nuclear strike. The inner refuge within the house was part of the check list and having a stout table to shelter under was an important part of the requirements.
Of course the whole thing was complete nonsense, think chocolate teapots or inflatable dart boards! CND’s alternative stance of ‘Protest and Survive’ had far more merit.
Now the point of this digression is that this farmhouse table was so robust that it would have survived a bomb blast better than the rest of the house. It was certainly good enough to withstand my children climbing on it and everything that their artistic efforts could throw at it. It wasn’t a beautiful thing but that meant that the odd ding here and there wasn’t an issue. It could of course be sanded and re-varnished at any point that a dent got too unsightly.
That table got replaced with a glass topped, metal framed IKEA creation complete with four plastic chairs. More modern I accept but, in comparison with its predecessor, a piece of shit!
When the farmhouse table left home, the solid pine Welsh dresser left with it and so went another piece of genuine craftsmanship.
The IKEA chest of drawers purchased this weekend have displaced some more of our solid pine furniture and once again, quality gives way to aesthetics.
I wandered around my house prior to taking to the keyboard and it dawned on me that the furniture in my house must be 80% IKEA, and that got me down. Why, because I have always had this belief that being able to buy real furniture was a sign of having made it (in material terms you understand not that I actually put the bloody stuff together myself).
Furniture used to be bought for ‘life’ and would last for years, these days it is disposable and treated in the same way as decoration i.e. changed at whim.
Growing up in the seventies, my dad’s success could be measured in G-Plan. My parents’ collection gradually grew to include dining table and chairs, sideboard, coffee tables and finally display units. They still have it all too, it’s still going strong.
The G in G-Plan shouldn’t stand for ‘Gone’! The lament is that the IKEA generation may not even be aware of G-Plan at all.
Looking on the bright side, when the time comes to replace the current IKEA furniture with new IKEA furniture I won’t bat an eyelid in chucking out the old stuff. If the kids damage it, my anger levels will stay at simmer level as opposed to reaching boiling point. Also if you are going to buy cheap furniture, there is no better place to buy it than IKEA.
Finally, this post would make a good subject for a blues song, I drafted the title above; some lyrics now follow. Think ‘der der de der’ from the guitar and drums after every line:
I had me a table
It was well made
But the wife didn’t like it
So she forced a trade
The pretend birch from the warehouse
I had to build myself
It looks good in the room
And it didn’t damage my wealth
Chorus
The new stuff is alright
I give IKEA its dues
But in emotional terms
I got the G-Plan blues
But I long for the quality
This stuff doesn’t deliver
And the old G-Plan
It’s been sold down the river
Teak is for losers
Fake grain is the new wood
Furniture is now disposable
In the new neighbourhoods
Chorus
The new furniture is alright
I give IKEA its dues
But in emotional terms
I got the G-Plan blues
Observations Home
Home
I used to own some decent furniture, at least to my eye. The kind of furniture that was made by craftsmen not just cut out by machines; where the materials were genuine bits of tree as opposed to chipboard and MDF; where the grain was genuine and not just stuck on; where joints had names like ‘dovetail’ and didn’t rely on funny fixings to hold them together.
Some examples by way of illustration: I used to own a teak G-Plan table and four matching chairs - the table was round but extended into an oval shape. This dining ensemble was built properly and built to last – it was turned, mitred, glued and screwed and it was finished nicely too - it was a genuine thing of quality. And I didn’t have to build it either, it was done for me and it was done with care and consideration.
It got replaced with an IKEA birch coloured (note not actual birch) table that to be fair was a better shape for the dining room and would seat more people. To add insult to injury though, I had to build it myself and then watch my teak table take a hike.
In the kitchen, I used to own this behemoth pine farmhouse table and chairs. This was a five foot, all timber rectangle construction where the table top was a good two and a half inches thick. I had six matching pine chairs to go with it.
For those readers that remember the early eighties well, when the Cold War was at its height and when there was genuine fear about nuclear Armageddon; the Government used to issue this leaflet called ‘Protect and Survive’. The leaflet addressed the simple steps that households could take to increase their chances of surviving a nuclear strike. The inner refuge within the house was part of the check list and having a stout table to shelter under was an important part of the requirements.
Of course the whole thing was complete nonsense, think chocolate teapots or inflatable dart boards! CND’s alternative stance of ‘Protest and Survive’ had far more merit.
Now the point of this digression is that this farmhouse table was so robust that it would have survived a bomb blast better than the rest of the house. It was certainly good enough to withstand my children climbing on it and everything that their artistic efforts could throw at it. It wasn’t a beautiful thing but that meant that the odd ding here and there wasn’t an issue. It could of course be sanded and re-varnished at any point that a dent got too unsightly.
That table got replaced with a glass topped, metal framed IKEA creation complete with four plastic chairs. More modern I accept but, in comparison with its predecessor, a piece of shit!
When the farmhouse table left home, the solid pine Welsh dresser left with it and so went another piece of genuine craftsmanship.
The IKEA chest of drawers purchased this weekend have displaced some more of our solid pine furniture and once again, quality gives way to aesthetics.
I wandered around my house prior to taking to the keyboard and it dawned on me that the furniture in my house must be 80% IKEA, and that got me down. Why, because I have always had this belief that being able to buy real furniture was a sign of having made it (in material terms you understand not that I actually put the bloody stuff together myself).
Furniture used to be bought for ‘life’ and would last for years, these days it is disposable and treated in the same way as decoration i.e. changed at whim.
Growing up in the seventies, my dad’s success could be measured in G-Plan. My parents’ collection gradually grew to include dining table and chairs, sideboard, coffee tables and finally display units. They still have it all too, it’s still going strong.
The G in G-Plan shouldn’t stand for ‘Gone’! The lament is that the IKEA generation may not even be aware of G-Plan at all.
Looking on the bright side, when the time comes to replace the current IKEA furniture with new IKEA furniture I won’t bat an eyelid in chucking out the old stuff. If the kids damage it, my anger levels will stay at simmer level as opposed to reaching boiling point. Also if you are going to buy cheap furniture, there is no better place to buy it than IKEA.
Finally, this post would make a good subject for a blues song, I drafted the title above; some lyrics now follow. Think ‘der der de der’ from the guitar and drums after every line:
I had me a table
It was well made
But the wife didn’t like it
So she forced a trade
The pretend birch from the warehouse
I had to build myself
It looks good in the room
And it didn’t damage my wealth
Chorus
The new stuff is alright
I give IKEA its dues
But in emotional terms
I got the G-Plan blues
But I long for the quality
This stuff doesn’t deliver
And the old G-Plan
It’s been sold down the river
Teak is for losers
Fake grain is the new wood
Furniture is now disposable
In the new neighbourhoods
Chorus
The new furniture is alright
I give IKEA its dues
But in emotional terms
I got the G-Plan blues
Observations Home
Home
