I blame YouTube. For some reason, I find entertainment and joy in watching people redecorate their rooms — it’s therapeutic.
My room never stays the same. For instance, last semester, within the first month back, I switched up my layout and decor at least three times.
My motto is that if you want to change your attitude and habits, you should change your space. So, every night since age 12, I would have a wholesome date with my screen, learning how to optimize my full interior designer potential.
Each tutorial came with suggestions for where to shop, and along with the classics — Christmas Tree Shops, Urban Outfitters and Amazon — was one I never really heard of. But I knew one thing for sure, I was intrigued.
It wasn’t the first time I fell in love. In middle school, I was head over heels for Target. YouTubers like Zoella and Bethany Mota influenced me to scour the aisles, throwing ceramic owls and mason jars into my cart, just for them to collect dust in my room.
But when high school rolled around, I was older — more sophisticated. My personality had grown, as did my aesthetic. I traded in the red bullseye for a brand more minimalistic, more me.
One look at those yellow letters against a blue background, and I was hooked.
From there, I would spend hours on end scouring the internet for IKEA content, just to plan my ideal abode.
How long does it take to build a Malm bed frame? Do the measurements of the Toftlund rug suit my floor plan? How much does a Vittsjo shelf unit weigh?
But my heart was broken upon finding out the closest store was nearly two hours away from where I lived in New Jersey. I begged my mom, but the answer was no.
“Maybe there is one in Arizona, and you could get your dorm stuff there,” she said.
So I patiently waited for the day I could fulfill my fantasies. I would finally walk through the showroom and jot down which bin had what furniture piece.
My list was ready and as soon as my parents landed at Sky Harbor, it was go time. IKEA, my love, here I come. I nearly shed a tear when I first caught a glimpse of the navy blue exterior.
Upon entering, it was like heaven. From the endless styles of bedding to the 79 cent dish towels, I never wanted to leave. I was ready to hide in the showroom and live in my own IKEA wonderland, complete with $1.49 cake.
I purchased what I needed, but it wasn’t enough. My IKEA thirst was yet to be quenched, and a year later, I continue to go back for more. I recently bought a new pair of curtains to cover my open closet. Sure, I already had a pair, and they were in good condition, but they weren’t from IKEA. They weren’t up to par with my standards, and thus no longer fit my room’s look.
I shouldn’t be buying all these home goods, but I can’t help myself. The store’s website is always open in my tabs. I am afraid to lose all the items saved in my cart — it’s piling up, there are over 50 types of pillows in it.
My obsession has even affected the people in my life.
My roommate had never been to IKEA, so I felt it was my job to bring her for the first time. I force my boyfriend to go at least once every two weeks, and now every inch of his room is decked out too.
I have zero shame in my love for IKEA. It simply makes me happy. Whenever I think everything is spiraling out of control, my quick fix is to redecorate. If I can take control of my uninspiring room, I surely can get my life back together.
And with IKEA, the process can be as sweet as the chocolate available for purchase at checkout.
It may be the perfectly set-up mock rooms or the reasonably priced Swedish meatballs, but every time I step foot into that large warehouse, my heart skips a beat.
Reach the reporter at omunson@asu.edu and follow @munson_olivia on Twitter.
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Olivia Munson is a digital producer for The State Press. She previously served as editor of the publication's The Echo desk. In the past, she has worked for Arizona PBS, The Arizona Republic and The Entertainer! magazine.
