From Queens to Coney, IKEA has announced to New York City that they have landed. Once upon a time, New Yorkers would adventure to Long Island, Jersey and even Connecticut just to get lost in a warehouse known for its chic press board, primary colors, and Swedish meatballs. For some time now, New Yorkers have seen the ads, heard the rumors, and have flocked to Brooklyn with wallets and eyes wide open.
The ads are unsuspectingly successful as the hazmat yellow draws your attention to a bleak beige spot with astute black lettering. But because its an actual unfolded box thrown into an ad display it starts to like looks like some sort of mistake. By replacing the everyday expectation with something a little bit off; it’s then that IKEA’s got you. It’s also a reader, meaning that it’s worth it to stop and take your time to read it as if it were in your best interest. The copy isn’t unusual or really that clever, but the first person technique of humanizing a box to tell you all the information you need is a bit welcoming and acts on par with a human voice behind a 1-800 number.
Alternate IKEA ads show a city skyline crafted out of cardboard. The bright yellow shouts for attention and the beige looks so foreign on a bus it draws eyes wherever it goes to. And when absorbing the ad as an honest New Yorker, it’s probably the most endearing diorama you’ve ever seen. Gotta love those water towers. These ads are pleasurable, playful, and trigger instant thoughts of the corrugated genius, Chris Gilmour.
Yet another ad is out there, and this one thinks outside the box. Literally. In that it envisions what happens after the IKEA furniture has been taken out of the box (and assembled). Obviously. Every NYC apartment or place called “home” is different from their own neighbors, and the ads reflect that appropriately. So, if the yellow-brown box-n-bus ads haven’t drawn you to IKEA perhaps a showcase of a classy, fun, and alternative interior design changes will. These ads vary and showcase different rooms clad in a variety of different styles with copy that reasons with you. Many ads still throw in the yellow-and-brown color scheme to tie the campaign together. Similar to the unfolded box ad, this ad takes on the 1st person approach—and chooses to start it’s conversation about money.
Every so often on a weekend, you could catch a truck sporting a see-through cargo bay on a truck parade streets of Brooklyn and Manhattan advertising for IKEA. 
It hurts to think this way, but the inner dimensions of a standard U-Haul truck became the equivalent of most peoples bedrooms, living rooms and kitchens as the see-through cargo bay was a mobile showroom, prompting onlookers to consider redecorating. The stunt was effective and mesmerizing though the association to IKEA wasn’t so obvious since the instinct is to see what’s inside before you loose sight of the truck. There’s a lot of home decorating stores in the city that cater to the 40-60k income bracket (Bed Bath & Beyond, Pearl River, the Container Store, CB2, even Home Depot and more) but most have become par for the course and seen as hum-drum, visited primarily out of convenience.
New York City is a metropolitan, fashionable and fast moving city that tires of routine and the same-old same-old. If only there was a new, accessible, fashionable, affordable and refreshing retailer in which to rejuvenate dwellings city-wide. . . .
On A Personal Note: When IKEA broke ground in Red Hook it caused quite a stir. New York City rejoiced as many of Red Hooks citizens groaned and endured increased traffic and aggressive gentrification. Despite having an abysmal time wading through their cluster-fuck of a store and became even more repelled at the slower-than-Pangaea pace of the checkout line (which, in fact, I dropped my items and walked out empty handed and very annoyed), it is not Ad Hawk’s place to judge the ramifications of IKEA’s new nesting grounds. Nevertheless, I am a New Yorker, and a proud Brooklynite, and I do shed a tear for the removal of my favorite Red Hook staple thanks to IKEA. Lo, erased and long gone is the dilapidated waterfront warehouse that I had dreamed of housing my secret laboratory after I go mad from a city that “just doesn’t understand me.” No shady dwelling in which to hide out in and craft the perfect revenge or unseen doomsday device to unleash upon a city that has turned its back on me. This loss is the most tragic of all; sadly no affordable piece of fashionable furniture can replace my dream lair.
2 Comments
June 16, 2009 at 5:36 pm
Good thing is it worked, if only we all had the funds to fund such campaigns. Awesome stuff
June 28, 2009 at 1:42 am
Cool ad indeed!