The Couples Who Spent Valentine’s Day at Ikea. On Purpose
The furniture giant’s Brooklyn outpost advertised a “romantic evening” in its cafeteria. Some found “love among the Swedish meatballs.”
It was 6 p.m. on Valentine’s Day, and the employees of the Ikea in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn had done what they could to make the Swedish furniture emporium feel more like a romantic hot spot and less like, well, an Ikea.
Slinky jazz played over the cafeteria speakers. Rose petals were scattered across two long tables, where ADELLOVTRAD flameless candles flickered unconvincingly atop HEDERVARD candlesticks. Each seat had a blush place mat and a clear view of a poster advertising frozen cinnamon buns.
Eighteen couples showed up for a Valentine’s Day event billed as “a romantic evening dining at Ikea Brooklyn’s Swedish restaurant.” On Wednesday, the most romantic day of the year, these lovers bypassed New York City’s numerous Michelin-starred options in favor of meatballs from a retailer best known for its flat-pack furniture.
Alex Wendland, 26, had arrived with his own pink tablecloth and a dozen roses for his date. “The lighting in here is not very romantic,” he said. “It’s harsh, it’s overhead.”
The table settings themselves provided an opportunity for organic product placement. (The flameless taper and the candlestick holder are both from Ikea.)Credit...Hiroko Masuike/The New York Times
On a Wednesday in Red Hook, Evellyn Santos and Chris Mancini, a married couple visiting from Florida, found “love among the Swedish meatballs,” as Mr. Mancini put it.Credit...Hiroko Masuike/The New York Times
Claire Calkins, 23, sat across from him with a plate of meatballs speared with Swedish flag toothpicks. She and Mr. Wendland, who have been dating since October, had already had a minor disagreement over how much time is too much to spend at Ikea. She’s in and out in an hour; he’s closed down the place three times.
Ms. Calkins was happy to linger on Valentine’s Day. “It’s a hilarious concept,” she said.
A few feet away, Evellyn Santos, 58, and Chris Mancini, 70, of Fort Lauderdale, Fla., dined without a hint of irony. After 12 years of marriage, it was fun to trade the rote, pricey Valentine’s Day itinerary for “love among the Swedish meatballs,” Mr. Mancini said.
Guests ordered food at the cafeteria counter and carried it back to their tables on trays that read “Hej!” in yellow lettering. The menu included Ikea’s usual fare — 12 meatballs with mashed potatoes, peas and lingonberry jam for $11.49 — with the addition of deep purple mocktails. (There would be no Sancerre, as Ikea does not have a liquor license.)
The event had been in the works for around three months, according to Stephanie Perez, a communication and events specialist for Ikea Brooklyn. Reservations for 20 tables were open to members of Ikea’s free loyalty program and filled up in less than a day, she said.
Ms. Perez didn’t take the Valentine’s Day turnout for granted. “Typically, we know people go elsewhere,” she said.
Ikea’s marketing team is most likely aware of the store’s reputation as “a relationship death-trap,” as one headline in The Cut put it. Many believe its labyrinthine showroom has the power to bring relationship strife to the surface, perhaps because it is a fertile setting for conversations about money, diverging tastes or the division of domestic labor.
The comedian Amy Poehler has joked that Ikea is Swedish for “argument,” and The Wall Street Journal has consulted psychologists to explain why so many trips to the store end in tears
Lani Wang and Tiffany Shum, friends and fellow students at the Cooper Union, ditched computer architecture for a “romantic evening at Ikea Brooklyn.”Credit...Hiroko Masuike/The New York Times
More than 15 years ago, Lambert Fernando and Jade Doskow spent a Valentine’s Day at the same Ikea. On Wednesday, they were joined by their 13-year-old son.Credit...Hiroko Masuike/The New York Times
“You get disoriented, and all of a sudden pressure builds and anxiety builds,” Rainy Lehrman, 47, a woodworker, said. She and her husband, Leonard White, 44, a teacher, had dropped off their two children in Ikea’s child care area and were splitting the cod. “It seemed like the fanciest thing,” Mr. White said.
While most guests were dressed casually, Tiffany Shum and Lani Wang, both 19-year-old students at the Cooper Union, had wore coordinating pale blue dresses for the occasion. The two friends had chosen to skip their computer architecture class in favor of something more fun and head to Red Hook.
They each said they would consider bringing a date to Ikea. “But not a first date,” Ms. Shum added.
If many of the guests considered Ikea to be a jokey rebuke of the fussiness of Valentine’s Day, at least one couple found it to be genuinely romantic.
Jade Doskow, 45, a freelance photographer, and Lambert Fernando, 52, a senior security manager at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, spent Valentine’s Day together at the same Ikea more than 15 years ago because it had seemed like the cheapest option with a good view of the city. (The menu has changed little, Mr. Fernando said.)
This time, they were joined by their 13-year-old son, Benjamin, who ate French fries and did not exactly share in their nostalgia. “It’s just, like, a big chain Swedish store with furniture,” he said. “It’s not much of a romantic place at all.”
His mother corrected him: “It is tonight.”