My Journey with IKEA: A Stepping Stone in Discovering My Design Style

When I first moved to downtown Los Angeles in August of 2008, I was filled with excitement and uncertainty. My roommate and I had just secured an apartment within walking distance to our graduate school, and I was ready to begin a new chapter. But like many twenty-somethings starting out, I faced the challenge of furnishing my new home with a limited budget and very little idea of what I wanted my space to look or feel like.

Enter IKEA. My mom took me on the classic pilgrimage to IKEA, and soon my bedroom and living room were filled with their signature flat-packed furniture. I didn’t mind it because, at the time, I hadn’t yet developed a sense of my own design preferences. IKEA was basic, affordable, and good enough for what I needed. My room felt functional, and I was content, even though I wasn’t exactly in love with the aesthetic.

Looking back, I realize IKEA wasn’t just a quick fix for furnishing my space—it was a stepping stone in my design journey. There’s something about IKEA furniture that speaks to those first steps of independence. It's affordable, accessible, and practical—perfect for when you’re just beginning to navigate the world of creating a space that feels like yours. IKEA gives you the basics, a foundation, without forcing you to make big, overwhelming design decisions too early.

This process also reminded me of my dad. Growing up, I used to watch him put furniture together, eventually learning from him as I got older. When I moved to college, his first gift to me was a tool set, which I still use today. The act of assembling my IKEA furniture became more than just a task—it was symbolic of something much deeper. It wasn't just about putting furniture together; it was about putting my life together, piece by piece.

As I tightened each screw and aligned every panel, I realized how this mirrored my own process of evolution. Every choice, every adjustment in my home was a reflection of the person I was becoming. In many ways, it was unconscious at the time, but looking back, I see how those small acts of creation and assembly were part of designing a life that was still taking shape. The toolset from my dad was a constant reminder that I had the ability to build—whether it was a piece of furniture or the next chapter of my life.

One of my favorite IKEA hacks was a simple nightstand I bought that I ended up spray-painting. I’ve always been obsessed with rose gold, so I spray-painted the legs in that shade and drilled holes to add a rose gold handle I got from Etsy. I didn’t even use it as a nightstand—it became my printer stand for my office! When I was finally done with it, I sold it on Facebook Marketplace for $10. In a way, that nightstand was a perfect reflection of how our spaces evolve along with us, sometimes unexpectedly.

As time went on and I grew more confident in my style, I began to crave something different. I had “graduated” from IKEA, so to speak, and started exploring more personalized and intentional design choices. However, those early IKEA pieces weren’t just placeholders; they were part of a learning experience. Through trial and error, I began to understand what I liked, what I didn’t like, and, most importantly, how different elements of design could affect how I felt in a space.

Design is personal. Our spaces are reflections of our evolving selves, and sometimes the most affordable, “basic” furniture helps us discover that. IKEA, for many of us, isn’t just a cheap option—it’s the first step toward understanding how we relate to the spaces we inhabit. Those moments of choosing simplicity over luxury help us realize that it’s not just about what looks good but what feels good.

In design psychology, we emphasize how spaces can impact emotional well-being. IKEA furniture may not be the pinnacle of design for everyone, but it plays a pivotal role in helping us explore, experiment, and ultimately curate environments that align with who we are.

So, while I may have moved on from those IKEA pieces, they were part of my design evolution—a phase that was necessary to help me figure out what truly makes a space feel like home. It’s a reminder that in both life and design, it’s okay to start simple and build from there, discovering what truly resonates with us along the way.