Finding the perfect nightstands in Copenhagen

Little Gems 01

I’ve lived in New York City for 11 years – a fact I haven’t properly celebrated, or at least yelled from the internet rooftops (until now). 11 years! When I moved here from Los Angeles in the hot sticky NYC summer of 2013, I had a hard time imagining I’d even make it to fall.

On the one hand: 11 years, a personal triumph. On the other: 11 years, and how do I still not have nightstands???

Throughout that decade-plus, I’ve rented only three apartments. I spent between two and seven years in each of them. I have had plenty of time in this city, and in these places, to properly furnish them. And yet.

Often, over the course of this time, I’d think to myself, I should really get some nightstands. And then I would think about something else. Of all the things one could spend money on, I would argue that, despite their proximity to bed, nightstands are somehow among the least sexy.

But on my trip to Copenhagen last month, I finally found them: the nightstands that were worth the 11-year wait.

After years of people telling me I needed to go to this city, I booked a trip just in time to catch the last of the late-summer warmth, while feeling the shiny novelty of early-fall coziness (highly recommend). 

One sunny afternoon on Refshaleøen, a little island covered in community gardens, bread-drunk — not for the first or last time — after lunch at Lille Bakery, I stumbled into B&W Market. Like most magical discoveries in a new city, the place was not on my list, nor on any of the lists I had referenced in making my plans.

So you can imagine my face when I walked in and saw this:

and this:

and this.

But it didn’t occur occur to me that I might actually try to make any of these items mine, until I saw these:

To you, they might just look like nightstands. To me, they are my great white furniture whale.

When I saw these nightstands, I just knew: they were my ticket to a new bedside era. The teak wood was in beautiful condition, their profile was petite but with a cute little drawer for storage, and, most important, their open shelving made them feel light and airy – key for my very, very small apartment. 

The owner of these nightstands, an older man with exaggerated features who I would come to know as Fleming, appraised me as I appraised his nightstands. “Those are good nightstands,” he said, quite reverently. I nodded, “I’ve been looking for something exactly like them.” 

“I have the biggest collection of nightstands in this place,” he continued. I’m not sure if by “this place” he meant the flea market, or the entire country, but I was ready to believe him either way. 

I then said a lot of obligatory, practical things about how getting them home would be so expensive, which turned into a fascinating chat about the poor shipping infrastructure of vintage resale sites like Chairish and FirstDibs, and why Fleming is no longer selling on those platforms. (Free million dollar business idea: better international shipping for vintage furniture.) 

My husband Alex (and partner in nightstandless-ness), had to pull me away, but before I left, I got Fleming’s contact information. The next day, I sent him an email, casually asking whether, hypothetically, if I were to purchase them, he might be able to wrap them up for me to take on my flight.

Fleming responded a couple of hours later with this:

An excellent sales tactic, tbh

In the end, Fleming offered to meet us at the airport with our boxed-up cargo. “I’ll be wearing a red shirt,” he emailed, as if he were a long-lost love I might be searching for. And you know what? Those nightstands really were.

We reunited in Departures, I handed Fleming the cash, and suddenly, I was the proud owner of two Danish vintage nightstands. We awkwardly schlepped this lovingly-packed box, first to Amsterdam for the second leg of our trip, and then back home to NYC. My “shipping” fees amounted to a whopping $29.99 — the cost to check them on Norwegian Air. Odd-sized luggage, who knew?! A furniture-buying hack I won’t soon forget.

My perfect nightstands are now settling in quite nicely at home, and I think of this trip – and my guy Fleming – every time I look at them.

The details: 
B&W Market - The Danish vintage furniture jackpot, Saturday and Sundays, twice a month.
Variete - You can shop some of Fleming’s collection online (not as satisfying as IRL, of course, but it’s something). Tell him the Nightstand Girl sent you.

And, because I can’t help myself, stay tuned for Copenhagen Part II – featuring six more Little Gems from this city, coming to your inbox very soon.