Ikea: a four letter word or salvation depending on who you ask. While walking around the giant, mostly windowless fortress (as we did yesterday) isn't my cup of tea, neither is paying through the nose for the same stuff elsewhere.
That being said, I
do try to support my local businesses, but with two kitty mouths to feed I've got to watch the good ol' family budget. For things that are really special or where quality matters (like kitchen knives) I shop locally
, ahem, the brooklyn kitchen. Sheesh, I love that place.
Long story short, I am not above Ikea. In fact, I love my Ikea bits and pieces. Not the furniture though, I'd rather find something old for the same price. But that's just me.
The red and white dish towels I adore, 49 cents and if you squint they look like old french linens. I try to buy them in stacks of 20, I don't use paper towels, so the more the merrier. And the knit pot holders look very handmade, too. Only $2. Couldn't buy the yarn to make them for cheaper.
Heavy bottomed juice glasses. A classic and a steal.
Plus the yellow ones also came from my local dollar store, $1.49 for a set of 4. I think they've been sitting on the same shelf since the 70's.
I don't dream of fancy can openers, so buying cheapo Ikea ones allow me to take the money I saved and buy a dreamy bread board or a hand carved wooden spoon, kitchen tools I DO dream about.
And the trash cans can't be beat. White enameled
oscar the grouch style for both garbage and recycling.
Cork trivets, woot woot! A million and one uses!
Their cookie jars hold damn near every thing in my kitchen. Pasta, nuts, rice, tea bags but I keep the big one holding my spare
sheet moss outside the cabinets. Looks like a terrarium but isn't.
Blue and white napkins in assorted plaids and stripes also make me very very happy. Hmm, wonder
why.
And yes, as soon as I get home I immediately get rid of the evidence; snipping out tags and peeling off stickers. Then I can get back to pretending the whole trip never happened in the first place.