OF A GOLDEN AGE

The most recent Very Small Array update shows the density of Ikea locations, or, rather, how many people in a state or urban center share the same Ikea. There are two in Chicagoland — Schaumburg and Bolingbrook — but even so, Illinois is in the second tier of Ikea density.

I think Ikea forms a good delineator between generations in this country: over a certain age and most likely you do not shop there; under a certain age and you or your friends most likely do. From what I’ve heard, the lack of older shoppers is more about perceived lack of quality than Ikea public exposure, and it seems largely based on low prices, which is ironic coming from Baby Boomers who often shirked their parents’ money and lifestyles before returning to those lifestyles as adults. Since when does a low price necessarily indicate low quality?

(We all know by now that Walmart sells most of the same merchandise as other stores, but the reason their prices are lower is because of wage blood and loss leaders, not lesser quality. For this reason, Walmart’s recent brand-name push — Dell computers! Video games! All for less! — is even more insulting.)

Anyway, I wonder if the generational split over Ikea is more of an attitude than an age issue. My friends and I have a much more transient opinion of stuff than our parents, and, so far, more desire to make less of an impact on our surroundings. I’ve purchased some really sturdy stuff from Ikea and I’ve purchased some real crap, too, but I was never misled as to the quality of individual items: a particleboard bookshelf I got for $40 is not expected to last more than a year, and at this point in my life I don’t need it to. It’s the furniture equivalent of renting. On the other hand, a well-built kitchen table which folds into a corner is useful, creatively designed, and unique to Ikea.

Many people view a house, and the items that fill that house, as a palpable legacy to hand down. When fewer of us are having children, and fewer still having children who want to stay in their hometowns, these homes are inherited, sold, and forgotten. I look at a photo of my grandfather’s elementary school class, one of him holding my oldest brother as a baby, one of my parents and him and I on Christmas vacation, and that’s really all I need to remember everything.

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