Ikealistic

I’m a convert, I’m afraid. After the demonstration of shoddy goods and shoddier service from Argos, and the mediocrity of waiting for three weeks for MFI to deign to deliver the goods we’d pay for, I adore Ikea. I’ve never been treated so well, nor treated to such a good display of design, layout, demonstration, quiet administration by employees in the background, cheap coffee (with unlimited refills) and quality, low-cost furniture. No wonder every home looks like an Ikea home: the behaviour of the UK giants has made it too painful for your house to look like anything else.

(For those who care, we bought a Didrik and a Klippa. We’ve also lined up some prime Billy, but we need K’s parents to help us with the delivery of that. They’re not built for British Rail.)

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