Tang Shooters LXXI - TCSS Thread...


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fwah!take leave go AOH:o
 

huat ah.... hows everyone?
 

Allo butties lets do excercise now!! Meet chiu all at Maju Camp!! :p
 

should organize a IKIA OUTinG HAHAH

interesting article




A Beijing Theme Park With Futons


By David Pierson
Aug 25 (Los Angeles Times) -- With no plans one Saturday, Zhang Xin
told his wife, son and mother to wear something smart and hop into the
family sedan. He could have taken them to the Forbidden City or the
Great Wall, but he decided on another popular destination -- IKEA.
Riding an escalator past a man lying on a display bed with a book
opened on his belly, the clan sauntered into the crush of visitors
squeezing onto the showroom path, bumping elbows and nicking ankles
with their yellow shopping trolleys.
Zhang said the family needed a respite from the smog and a reliable
lunch.
"We just came here for fun," said the 34-year-old office manager. "I
suppose we could have gone somewhere else, but it wouldn't have been a
complete experience."
Welcome to IKEA Beijing, where the atmosphere is more theme park than
store.
When the Swedish furniture giant first opened here in 1999, it hoped
locals would embrace its European brand of minimalism. A decade later,
Beijingers have done just that. Perhaps too much.
Every weekend, thousands of looky-loos pour into the massive showroom
to use the displays. Some hop into bed, slide under the covers and
sneak a nap; others bring cameras and pose with the decor. Families
while away the afternoon in the store for no other reason than to
enjoy the air conditioning.
Visitors can't seem to resist novelties most Americans take for
granted, such as free soda refills and ample seating. They also like
the laid-back staffers who don't mind when a child jumps on a couch.
Purchasing anything at Yi Jia, as the store is called here, can seem
like an afterthought.
"It's the only big store in Beijing where a security guard doesn't
stop you from taking a picture," said Jing Bo, 30, who was looking for
promising backdrops for a photograph of his girlfriend.
The store's success can be traced, in part, to how grounded it is in
the capital's zeitgeist. At a time when home ownership is more within
reach and incomes are rising, IKEA offers affordable, modern furniture
to an emerging middle class clamoring to be bai ling, or white collar.
It doesn't hurt either that the understated style is a satisfying
departure from, say, the faux French imperial designs favored by the
older nouveaux riches and gaudy hotels.
"Our values are changing," said Lizzy Hou, 25, a university graduate
who moved to Beijing in May from neighboring Hebei province for a
teaching job.
"We want to be modern. I think IKEA stands for a kind of lifestyle.
People don't necessarily want to buy it, but they want to at least
experience it."
Imagining the possibilities here is one of the reasons Bai Yalin drove
an hour and a half from her apartment to spend a day at the store with
her 7-year-old son and two teenage nieces. There are few other indoor
spaces, she said, where she can entertain the children free on an
oppressive summer afternoon.
Bai mapped out a five-hour outing. First, they had hot dogs and soft
ice cream cones at noon. Then they enjoyed a long rest lounging on the
beds. Bai kicked off her sandals and sprawled out on a Tromso bunk
bed. The 36-year-old homemaker made herself comfortable and even
answered passing shoppers' questions about the quality of the
mattress.
"It's soft and a great buy at this price," she told a young woman,
pointing to a dangling price tag.
After that, Bai and her family took group pictures. By 5 p.m., it was
time for another meal, so they headed to the cafeteria and ate braised
mushrooms with rice.
Bai and her husband, a clerk at a heating company, have bought plates
and cups at IKEA, but what they'd really like one day is to rid
themselves of their clunky old Chinese furniture and bring on the do-
it-yourself particleboard.
"Today we didn't plan to buy anything, just eat and rest," Bai said.
Many others arrive with the same intentions, sometimes bringing a book
to read on a bouncy Poang armchair or carrying stuffed toys for their
children to play with on a mattress. For the midday squatters, the
abundance of seating is no small detail in a country of 1.3 billion
where nabbing a subway or bus seat is practically a blood sport.
The store's nerve center is the cafeteria. The lunch hour is an
endurance contest. Hungry customers pace the dining room balancing
overflowing trays, ready to pounce the second a table becomes
available.
Beijingers have scarfed down their fair share of Swedish meatballs.
Most, however, seem to favor Chinese food such as marinated pork belly
with tofu.
It was the prospect of a satisfying and inexpensive meal that brought
Luo Jing and her mother, sister and boyfriend into IKEA for the first
time one Saturday. The group was resting in the sofa section, each
carrying waxy paper cups worn in by one soda refill after another.
"We've heard a lot about IKEA but never came," said Luo, 23. "I like
the simplicity. My mom liked the food. We'll hang out for a while."
Though frustrated, IKEA executives hope browsers like Luo will
eventually turn into buyers. That's why they don't shoo anyone away
for sleeping. It's the promise of China's middle class that has girded
their investment here. The privately owned company operates seven
stores in China, though there have been indications that profit
remains elusive.
"The brand awareness is great, but the question is, how do we get
people to open up their wallets and spend money?" said Linda Xu, a
company spokeswoman who rolled her eyes when she came upon a trio of
slumbering customers.
When Wal-Mart and the French supermarket chain Carrefour entered China
in the 1990s, many flocked to the new stores just to look and touch.
Now millions of Chinese shop there every day.
IKEA has the added challenge of copycats. Brazen customers are known
to come in with carpenters armed with measuring tapes to make
replicas. Zhang, the office manager visiting with his family, said he
bought a TV table and a couch elsewhere that looked just like IKEA
furniture.
"Why spend so much money when you can have the same thing cheaper?" he
said.
Others take pictures of the displays to learn how to decorate their
homes.
"I never knew you could just screw a shelf onto the wall," said Fan
Haiying, 29, contemplating how to store her books and photographs.
"Traditional Chinese furniture always needs a cabinet door."
Then there are the amateur photographers who revel in the store's
ambience. To them, consumerism never looked so fine through a
viewfinder.
A group of university graduates recently donned caps and gowns for
photographs by the checkout aisles as if to capture the moment they
matriculated to the middle class.
On another day, He Peng showed up with his compact Sony digital
camera, which he uses to snap Beijing's modern landmarks. He shot the
Bird's Nest Olympic stadium and the Apple Store in a tony outdoor
shopping mall, then set his sights on IKEA.
"There's so much great stuff here," said He, 23. "I didn't know where
to start."
He photographed his friends beating each other with stuffed toys. Then
he methodically went through the store, snapping away at beds, kitchen
counters and even the extra-long hot dogs at the snack bar.
He posted the photos on his blog, at
photo.blog.sina.com.cn/biohazardhp.
His caption above a shot of IKEA products reads, "I don't need to buy
them because I have pictures."
 

should organize a IKIA OUTinG HAHAH

interesting article




A Beijing Theme Park With Futons


By David Pierson
Aug 25 (Los Angeles Times) -- With no plans one Saturday, Zhang Xin
told his wife, son and mother to wear something smart and hop into the
family sedan. He could have taken them to the Forbidden City or the
Great Wall, but he decided on another popular destination -- IKEA.
Riding an escalator past a man lying on a display bed with a book
opened on his belly, the clan sauntered into the crush of visitors
squeezing onto the showroom path, bumping elbows and nicking ankles
with their yellow shopping trolleys.
Zhang said the family needed a respite from the smog and a reliable
lunch.
"We just came here for fun," said the 34-year-old office manager. "I
suppose we could have gone somewhere else, but it wouldn't have been a
complete experience."
Welcome to IKEA Beijing, where the atmosphere is more theme park than
store.
When the Swedish furniture giant first opened here in 1999, it hoped
locals would embrace its European brand of minimalism. A decade later,
Beijingers have done just that. Perhaps too much.
Every weekend, thousands of looky-loos pour into the massive showroom
to use the displays. Some hop into bed, slide under the covers and
sneak a nap; others bring cameras and pose with the decor. Families
while away the afternoon in the store for no other reason than to
enjoy the air conditioning.
Visitors can't seem to resist novelties most Americans take for
granted, such as free soda refills and ample seating. They also like
the laid-back staffers who don't mind when a child jumps on a couch.
Purchasing anything at Yi Jia, as the store is called here, can seem
like an afterthought.
"It's the only big store in Beijing where a security guard doesn't
stop you from taking a picture," said Jing Bo, 30, who was looking for
promising backdrops for a photograph of his girlfriend.
The store's success can be traced, in part, to how grounded it is in
the capital's zeitgeist. At a time when home ownership is more within
reach and incomes are rising, IKEA offers affordable, modern furniture
to an emerging middle class clamoring to be bai ling, or white collar.
It doesn't hurt either that the understated style is a satisfying
departure from, say, the faux French imperial designs favored by the
older nouveaux riches and gaudy hotels.
"Our values are changing," said Lizzy Hou, 25, a university graduate
who moved to Beijing in May from neighboring Hebei province for a
teaching job.
"We want to be modern. I think IKEA stands for a kind of lifestyle.
People don't necessarily want to buy it, but they want to at least
experience it."
Imagining the possibilities here is one of the reasons Bai Yalin drove
an hour and a half from her apartment to spend a day at the store with
her 7-year-old son and two teenage nieces. There are few other indoor
spaces, she said, where she can entertain the children free on an
oppressive summer afternoon.
Bai mapped out a five-hour outing. First, they had hot dogs and soft
ice cream cones at noon. Then they enjoyed a long rest lounging on the
beds. Bai kicked off her sandals and sprawled out on a Tromso bunk
bed. The 36-year-old homemaker made herself comfortable and even
answered passing shoppers' questions about the quality of the
mattress.
"It's soft and a great buy at this price," she told a young woman,
pointing to a dangling price tag.
After that, Bai and her family took group pictures. By 5 p.m., it was
time for another meal, so they headed to the cafeteria and ate braised
mushrooms with rice.
Bai and her husband, a clerk at a heating company, have bought plates
and cups at IKEA, but what they'd really like one day is to rid
themselves of their clunky old Chinese furniture and bring on the do-
it-yourself particleboard.
"Today we didn't plan to buy anything, just eat and rest," Bai said.
Many others arrive with the same intentions, sometimes bringing a book
to read on a bouncy Poang armchair or carrying stuffed toys for their
children to play with on a mattress. For the midday squatters, the
abundance of seating is no small detail in a country of 1.3 billion
where nabbing a subway or bus seat is practically a blood sport.
The store's nerve center is the cafeteria. The lunch hour is an
endurance contest. Hungry customers pace the dining room balancing
overflowing trays, ready to pounce the second a table becomes
available.
Beijingers have scarfed down their fair share of Swedish meatballs.
Most, however, seem to favor Chinese food such as marinated pork belly
with tofu.
It was the prospect of a satisfying and inexpensive meal that brought
Luo Jing and her mother, sister and boyfriend into IKEA for the first
time one Saturday. The group was resting in the sofa section, each
carrying waxy paper cups worn in by one soda refill after another.
"We've heard a lot about IKEA but never came," said Luo, 23. "I like
the simplicity. My mom liked the food. We'll hang out for a while."
Though frustrated, IKEA executives hope browsers like Luo will
eventually turn into buyers. That's why they don't shoo anyone away
for sleeping. It's the promise of China's middle class that has girded
their investment here. The privately owned company operates seven
stores in China, though there have been indications that profit
remains elusive.
"The brand awareness is great, but the question is, how do we get
people to open up their wallets and spend money?" said Linda Xu, a
company spokeswoman who rolled her eyes when she came upon a trio of
slumbering customers.
When Wal-Mart and the French supermarket chain Carrefour entered China
in the 1990s, many flocked to the new stores just to look and touch.
Now millions of Chinese shop there every day.
IKEA has the added challenge of copycats. Brazen customers are known
to come in with carpenters armed with measuring tapes to make
replicas. Zhang, the office manager visiting with his family, said he
bought a TV table and a couch elsewhere that looked just like IKEA
furniture.
"Why spend so much money when you can have the same thing cheaper?" he
said.
Others take pictures of the displays to learn how to decorate their
homes.
"I never knew you could just screw a shelf onto the wall," said Fan
Haiying, 29, contemplating how to store her books and photographs.
"Traditional Chinese furniture always needs a cabinet door."
Then there are the amateur photographers who revel in the store's
ambience. To them, consumerism never looked so fine through a
viewfinder.
A group of university graduates recently donned caps and gowns for
photographs by the checkout aisles as if to capture the moment they
matriculated to the middle class.
On another day, He Peng showed up with his compact Sony digital
camera, which he uses to snap Beijing's modern landmarks. He shot the
Bird's Nest Olympic stadium and the Apple Store in a tony outdoor
shopping mall, then set his sights on IKEA.
"There's so much great stuff here," said He, 23. "I didn't know where
to start."
He photographed his friends beating each other with stuffed toys. Then
he methodically went through the store, snapping away at beds, kitchen
counters and even the extra-long hot dogs at the snack bar.
He posted the photos on his blog, at
photo.blog.sina.com.cn/biohazardhp.
His caption above a shot of IKEA products reads, "I don't need to buy
them because I have pictures."

waaaaaaa wall of text
9999 damage!!
KO!!
 

good morning butties!
tml who ish going cemetery?

:) moi ghosting, chinizzz cemetwy apter hworkz...chiu ish hwan ghost dare rook por moi hor ghost together? call moi hwen chiu ish phinish hworkz.
 

:o not portraits meh??

wtf!go cemetery suut wat portraits!!:o:o

:sweatsm:..... 鬼啊!!!!

3853250386_038cfbf66e.jpg
 

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