What’s Ikea Sylvia Park like? The Swedish furniture giant has showrooms with local flavours and show-stopping hotdogs reports Idealog editor (and Ikea fan) Penny Murray.
The applause was joyous. As the first few dozen customers walked through the doors and ascended to the first floor, we were flanked either side by Ikea staff. They were beaming and clapping. There were high fives. Cheers. Roars even. We were thrilled to be there and they were delighted to welcome us.
Three days before the doors officially opened, our family had a sneak peek around New Zealand’s first Ikea store. It had been a long time coming – for them and for us. While Kiwis have been clamouring for the Swedish furniture shop to open here for at least a decade, the international giant has kept us waiting.
But they’ve done their homework.
Two years ago, as part of their research ahead of the store opening, Ikea came to our house. (Along with 499 other Kiwi homes.) They wanted to see how we live in Aotearoa and therefore what they should stock in their first store.
As a thank you, they’ve invited us to their new place at Auckland’s Sylvia Park – for a preview and to “test their processes”. We can buy (and eat!) things, but we have to take part in a fire drill. A fair enough trade, if you ask me.
An old school Ikea fan
Cards on the ‘Lack’ coffee table: I am an Ikea fan. When I lived in Glasgow and the nearest branch was three hours down the motorway, my partner and I rented a van and made the drive. We spent six hours in the shop and got everything, including a kitchen sink. Thankfully Ikea opened locally a couple of years later, so shorter visits became possible.
That explains why there are already many Ikea items in my house. Shelves, cabinets, filing boxes, chopping boards, a cheese grater, chairs, crockery, coffee tables, mirrors, a futon – there’s more, but you get the idea. The Ikea team had fun spotting familiar products when they came round in 2023.
What draws me to the Ikea brand? Good design at a decent price point. An emphasis on environmental sustainability. A sense of fun.
Local flavour
So, how does Ikea Sylvia Park measure up? In many ways, just as you’d expect – if you’ve been to any other Ikea. But with lovely local touches, starting before you even turn in to the car park. The welcome sign says “Hej!” and “Kia ora”, along with a translation so everyone knows these phrases mean hello.
We park on ground level, under the store and are directed to the main entrance by friendly security staff. The walkway has tukutuku designs and kowhaiwhai patterns etched into the concrete. The landscaping features native rengarenga and a fresh layer of black bark mulch.
After that glorious welcome, we’re upstairs and straight into the showroms. There are sofas, kitchen set-ups, laundries and bedrooms – just as you’d expect. The research team clearly noted that people here like natural light and a view. You can see recognisable Tāmaki Makaurau landmarks through the ‘windows’.
It’s part of the Ikea playbook, a UK-born colleague who studied the company tells me when I text a pic. “I based my whole university dissertation on how Ikea stores and catalogues were created with local-looking imagery and models so the local audience related better to their products – good to see they still do it,” she says.
Forgot the list
Having carefully made a note of all the things we wanted to get (recommended), I forgot to bring it (d’oh!). Even if you’re familiar wth Ikea, it’s worth knowing what you’re after before you go, because it can be overwhelming. There will be an app, that I expect will make everything easier to keep track of, but it’s not switched on for us early birds. Meanwhile, we’ve reconstructed the list as best we can and merrily add extension leads, coat hangers and a fluffy sheepskin to our big yellow shopping bag.
I am delighted by the chopping board combo we pick up: one is buttercup yellow, the other is Prince purple. Cool. We don’t need any filing boxes, but I wish we did because they have a built-in smile.
Any gripes?
We’ve had to research what we want using the Australian version of the website (the Aotearoa version will be live at launch), so I’m disappointed the towels I had my eye on aren’t stocked. And the square dinner plates we need more of are only sold in a 24-piece set here – that’s no use to me!
I’m also not in love with the meatballs, which I try for the first time. To be fair, everyone – including the kitchen staff – have just taken part in the fire drill, so it might be an unrealistic time to test the restaurant. The cheesecake, on the other hand, is a good time.
Ka kite Ikea Sylvia Park
Downstairs, we navigate through the seemingly endless ‘Marketplace’, where we pick up office accessories, scope outdoor furniture and consider an enormous mirror. It’s a steal, but not available (yet) in the aluminium frame we’d like. We can wait.
At the checkout, we scan and decant everything from our big yellow bag into a big blue bag to take home.
“In many ways, the ideal example of an Ikea trip,” announces my husband, as we drive out.
He means: not quite perfect, but we did everything you’d expect. Spend ages exploring the showrooms? Check. Find some cool new products? Sure thing. Get a bit ratty in the towel department during hour three in the store? Uh-huh. Regain steam and stock up on ‘Glimma’ tealights? Of course. Scoff hotdogs and an ice cream after the checkouts? Hell yes.
A special word about the $2 hotdogs. They are incredible. The bread is next level – the phrases “freshly baked” and “like fancy Italian buns” are bandied about in the car on the way home. We’ve vowed to add on the options next time: onions, chipotle sauce, an extra sausage.
We leave with a general sense that life is better knowing Ikea is here when we need it. Robust, well-designed things at reasonable prices.
“Hej då” and “ka kite” says the sign on the way out. I might click and collect and order before venturing inside the store again… But I’ll be back.
