You won’t believe what happened to me today.
I was in a house that was IKEA-free. 100%.
No, not just little… or not much… but just, like, … nothing.
It didn’t dawn on me at first. How breathtaking that was. Unique. Such… class!
You feel like being in a forest and seeing a unicorn. The world turns fairy-tale’ish pink.
You wonder if you’re on mushrooms. Could this really be? House owners who are not into practical, cheap, quick, handy, washable… but into craftsmanship, local craftsmen, local economy, honest wages, the ecology of little transport?
What are they, suffering from, like, personality??
You have to know I live near the Costa del Sol, whose 100 Kms always looked as though someone at IKEA puked over them.
And that over the past few years the bulldozer of IKEA’fication has also been rolling over the minds and houses deep into the traditional countryside and up the most remote mountain. No 150-year old Andalusian townhouse or it now whispers the name of IKEA rather than the one of Moors or local craftsmen.
Making the average house pretty boring:
Colour-schemed, check, and everything fits with everything, check. The one Moroccan ornament, check, of course, for also that is as in the brochures. Oh, and the mandatory Buddha statuette (in the same room as the bottles of alcohol, shocking any Buddhist).
Those few houses that do not acutely suffer from the brochure-ghost, suffer from the Hipster-Code; that new fashion going on a stampede from airports to bars the world around: pallet furniture and industrial lamps.
So entering a house that is none of all that, is a pleasant surprise.
In this house, by the way, nothing was expensive. Or even fashionable. Or even thought over. Or deliberate.
Some houses, as some people, have charisma.
That blend of personality, honesty and genuineness.
PS: The photos in this page are not of THAT house. Charisma, your name is Humbleness.