I Know Why American Women Love IKEA

I've never been to IKEA. The design is too sterile for me. It reminds me of the 60s, when bookshelves were made out of cinder blocks and 1x12s, and cable spools were tables. It is one step short of Soylent Green, where street vendors hawked "genuine plastic."

But the women where I used to work loved it. They raved about it. To hear them after they had been there, you would think they had been to visit the palace of the Queen. One even bragged about having eaten lunch there, as if she had been to a fancy Manhattan dinner club instead of a big-box retailer courting the disappearing middle class. I didn't get it.

IKEA sends me a print catalog every year. Normally I flip through it and trash it. Recently though I put a very small reading table in my bathroom, and the IKEA catalog has been on display there for two weeks. I've made friends with it.

One picture showed a man in the kitchen serving lunch to two or three children. He was a young man, with longish hair and a mustache. It was a wispy little mustache, only a little bit darker than I've seen on some women. I took note when I saw him in another picture, in another part of the catalog, working at the kitchen sink. Did I see the hand of the Marketing Department? Were they selling something other than bookcases? Now I was curious.

There were many pictures of women in the catalog. Some were sleeping. Some were visiting other women. One was painting her toenails. Some simply stood admiring their furniture. Not a single photo showed a woman doing any constructive work. No kitchen work, no child-rearing. None at all. Only the man did that. The young wussy-looking man.

The only difference between marketing and propaganda is the purpose. Dr.Joseph Goebbels is the father of both of these. Feminism has always been a sugar-coated turd. This is how IKEA takes the money of women.

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