Upfront

I HAVE A FRIEND who is pretty much the font of all knowledge when it comes to the blue and yellow place in Ballymun, Dublin. This is very handy if you happen to be someone who is too lazy to negotiate all the unpronounceable names at Ikea. Bjarnum, honest to God, or some such deity. It’s a blessed shelf bracket, Bjorn.

Anyway, when you describe your furnishing needs to this person, she thinks for a moment and then comes out with the likes of “ah, a funky yet practical table lamp, you’ll be wanting the Fillsta in orange”. Or “Sofas, eh? Well, you could go for the Ektorp but my personal preference would be the Karlstad, cleaner lines you see.” So I told her what we needed. Something small, accessible and with open shelves, to store both books and toys. Maybe half a second passed before she said: “The Expedit, no question. And you might want to buy a couple of Nasum baskets to go with it.” The Swedes should get her on the pay roll.

Off we went to Ballymun. The visit was organised to coincide with nap time. We got a prime family parking space and the girls dutifully fell fast asleep in their prams. On the way, I laid out our game plan to my boyfriend because, let’s just say past visits to Ikea have not ended well. I said that purchasing the Expedit (whatever that turned out to be) was our priority. I said that we shouldn’t put ourselves under any undue pressure even if we saw other items that we thought we needed. If we only came out with the Expedit and nothing else then the trip could be deemed a success.

It was when I sent my boyfriend to retrieve six pink wall hooks in the shape of dog bottoms with tails – they are called Bästis, obviously – that things started to unravel. He could only find red ones, but he is colour blind so I still reckoned there were pink ones in stock and he just couldn’t locate them. I knew I was headed for another Ikea-related meltdown when I started to sweat and put assorted plastic boxes in the shopping bag. I was breaking my own guidelines. I was putting us under pressure. The dog-bottom hooks were not essential purchases nor were the screw fittings (sold separately, natch) but would I let it go? Is a shelf in Ikea ever called a shelf?

We made our way out of the hook area and into textiles, at which point I started nagging him about finding the screws. “Find the screws, get the screws, we need the right screws.” Like that, except worse. We made the crucial mistake of ducking through those magic but difficult to find doors that bring you back to another department, like Mr Benn emerging into a different land. There was a stand-off over the screws, with neither of us wanting to ask someone. It wasn’t pretty. One of us may have called the other a Bästis. In the end, the Fixa were found and we made up shortly afterwards over a bright green, medium-sized Hampen. Phew.

Ikea is full of good ideas and our bit of a domestic there resulted in a flash of inspiration. According to a recent Irish Times poll, the vast majority of us don’t think it’s sinful to have sex before marriage. Most of those polled would be quite happy if gay people had full marriage equality. The majority of respondents said they wouldn’t have a problem with women being accepted into the priesthood.

I reckon it’s only a matter of time before people in this country start living according to their lack of belief in the basic tenets of Catholicism and flock in their droves to registry offices instead of churches for their nuptials.

I’m thinking this will create a demand for secular pre-marriage courses and how better to get to know your intended than with an Ikea-based pre-marriage online questionnaire? Do you prefer to study the catalogue and make a specific shopping list or are you happier to make random purchases as you go along? Do you like to take short cuts or follow the designated pathways? Are you happy dandering along behind shoppers who walk as though in a funeral march or do you favour using a child’s buggy as a battering ram to disperse shoppers? Do you make sure you have all fittings before purchasing or do you relax, safe in the knowledge that the right fittings will be in the tool box at home?

There are exceptions, of course. My boyfriend and I have survived five fraught trips to Ikea and still remain coupled up. But still the questionnaire (Ektorp or Karlstad?) would tell you an awful lot about how well suited you are.

Of course, the logical extension of this would be Ikea weddings. Swedish meatballs for the dinner, dress code yellow and blue, vows to be exchanged on an Edland that has been draped with a Himmel. All I am saying is – watch this exceptionally well-laid-out space. roisin@irishtimes.com

THIS WEEKEND: Róisín will be deciding which random acts of volunteering she will perform on National Volunteer Day next Friday (October 1st). volunteer.ie