How to Make a Couch; Or, I Am My Own Sweatshop

On Saturday, we went to the second-happiest place on Earth, IKEA, and ate meatballs and spent More Money Than Was Comfortable, because we have woken up to the fact that we have basically moved into a house, and not a tiny one, either. There are beautiful wood floors as far as the eye can see, so we had to get rugs. And we decided to fulfill my boring dream of owning a couch. We wanted to choose a sofa that was comfy, but within our budget, so we chose the Lund Bjuv. Unlike some IKEA couches, which come pre-assembled, the Bjuv comes in four boxes. We were a little daunted by this, but decided to look at it as a money-saving adventure, or something irritatingly optimistic like that.

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The couch was supposed to come on Saturday night, but came Sunday morning instead. We didn’t have anywhere to be last weekend, so we really didn’t care. As promised, it came in four boxes. We had fun guessing which parts were in which boxes. The first three boxes are all the underlying parts of the sofa, and the fourth box was the sofa cover, which came in many colors. We chose a velvetish dark green, which is hiding cat hair really well so far.

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My companion has learned, because I am an IKEA addict, that it’s a good idea to pull out all the parts first and find the manuals and hardware. Strudel noodled around excitedly. This move is probably the most excitement she’s had since she shot out of my hoo hoo.

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First, the legs snapped on. The back, bottom, and arms fitted together, basically by snapping into place. Many parts were shaped like puzzle pieces and locked together that way. The black parts of the couch you see are a really dense Styrofoam. I was surprised to learn that our couch contained Styrofoam. Who knows what’s in preassembled couches? It kind of made me look at everything differently. I suppose the dishwasher could be insulated with monkey poo.

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Then, a padded cover went over everything, making the couch a little more comfortable before the cover and cushions went on.

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Next, we put the cover on. I was afraid it was going to look slip-covery, but it is designed to fit tautly. There is some slight wrinkling in the arms from the cover being in its box, but they are falling out over time. Finally, the cover zipped up underneath the couch. IKEA also offers replacement covers, so at some point we could change the cover after the kids trash this one, without paying a lot to have it reupholstered, or struggling to do it ourselves.

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Meanwhile, when I wasn’t helping Companion, I was being a cushion factory. The cushions come naked and without buttons attached. You get a bag of buttons and a buttonhook to work with. It was easy and kind of fun.

Bottom cushions partway covered:

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And a back cushion after I put the buttons on:

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Later that evening, Strudel approves of our handiwork. It’s hard to tell, but she’s looking at our cat Nietzsche, who blends into the green well.

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As a bonus, here’s Companion unfurling the rug. He’s a floor-sitter, and I’m mostly a couch-sitter, so I had the most say about the couch, and he had the most say about the rug. I like the rug, which of course looks like a meditation labyrinth. I think the girls will have fun playing with the little roads on it.

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13 thoughts on “How to Make a Couch; Or, I Am My Own Sweatshop

  1. Your new house-partment looks charming! Congratulations on leaving Ikea with your companion still by your side.

  2. ikea! i have never been – there isn’t one in denver. something tells me i, too, would spend more money than is comfortable.

    your post reminds me of the fun we had assembling our elliptical trainer torture device. we saved $150 doing it ourselves, and got to giggle over instructions like “apply lube to rod”!

  3. The furniture is great. Lovely new digs. So bright and sunny!

    Did you get the Daim cake? The Daim cake is my favorite dessert at Ikea.

  4. The joy of Styrofoam! Now you know your couch will float, and store transplanted organs safely for up to ten hours.

  5. Hey Kelly: It’s firm-ish, but not hard, and the back might be low for some peoples’ tastes, but we like it. The arms are pretty hard, no lie, but I am going to get some extra pillows soon, and a really bonus thing is that the back cushions are not attached, so you can move them around to the arms for lazing. I love that.

    Arabella: is the daim cake that apple cake? Because hell yes I get that.

  6. It’s a beautiful new place with great windows and light, a great place for kids. They’re such lucky little tykes with such a sweet life.

  7. Ikea makes me cry and want to live in Sweden where all children have cleverly designed utensils.

    That’s a fab couch!

  8. As a long time IKEA-ite, may I suggest that you purchase one or two extra covers now?
    Since you’ll find that when you’re ready to purchase another cover IKEA will no longer carry your couch or any thing that resembles the right size cover.

    I speak from experience.
    More than one experience.
    The longest I’ve ever seen IKEA carry an item is two years.

  9. You’re welcome.
    I am an IKEA addict.
    Toronto has always had at least two IKEA’s in the city since I was a kid. It’s a great place to get stylish and inexpensive things. Things last just long enough that you get your money’s worth.

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