I saved for eleven months to buy the Oluce Atollo. Eleven months of putting €30 aside every time I got paid, ignoring the voice in my head that said “it’s just a lamp,” and talking myself out of cheaper alternatives at least four times.
Three years later, I still look at it every single morning and think: worth every cent.
But not everything I’ve bought has earned that status. Some design icons live up to their reputation. Others are beautiful but impractical. And a few — I’ll be honest — sit in my apartment more as guilt than joy because I overpaid and don’t love them as much as I thought I would.
Here are my completely honest reviews after years of actually living with these pieces. Not showroom opinions. Not “I saw it at a design fair” impressions. Real, daily, spilled-coffee-on-it, moved-it-four-times, had-guests-put-their-feet-on-it reviews.
1. Oluce Atollo 237 — The One That Started Everything
Bought: December 2022, Finnish Design Shop Paid: €340 (it’s gone up since then) Verdict: Absolutely, unequivocally worth it.
I remember exactly where I was when I decided I needed this lamp. Scrolling through someone’s apartment tour on a dark November evening, eating peanut butter toast, and there it was. That mushroom silhouette. That warm, golden glow. I actually said “oh” out loud, to nobody.
The Atollo was designed by Vico Magistretti in 1977 and it looks like it could have been designed yesterday or in 2050. The shape — that hemisphere on a cylinder on a cone — shouldn’t work. It sounds clunky on paper. But in person, in a room, casting its soft warm circle of light onto whatever surface it sits on, it’s pure sculptural magic.
Mine lives on the console table in the hallway. I switch it on the moment I get home. It’s the first light in the apartment and it sets the tone for the whole evening. The opal glass diffuser gives off this milky, gentle glow that makes everything around it look better. My keys look better. The mail looks better. My face in the mirror above it looks better.
Honest cons: It’s larger than you think from photos. The 237 model is the medium size, and it’s still 50 cm tall. Make sure you have the surface space. Also, it’s a fingerprint magnet — that smooth white surface shows every smudge. I wipe it down about once a week.
Would I buy it again? Without hesitation. This is the piece that taught me design classics earn their price through daily joy, not occasional admiration.
2. Artek Stool 60 — The Quiet Workhorse
Bought: 2020, secondhand from Tori.fi Paid: €120 (retail is around €300 new) Verdict: The best €120 I’ve ever spent on furniture.
Alvar Aalto designed the Stool 60 in 1933. Ninety-two years ago. And it still outsells most modern stools because it’s just impossibly good at being exactly what it is.
I bought mine secondhand — birch, natural lacquer, a few scuffs on the legs that I consider character. It lives in the kitchen, mostly. But here’s the thing about the Stool 60: it migrates. It’s a stool at breakfast. A side table when friends come over and I need somewhere to set drinks. A plant stand when the monstera needs more light by the window. A step stool when I’m reaching for the top shelf. Last week it was a bedside table because I was reorganizing the bedroom and needed a surface.
The L-leg, Aalto’s bent birch innovation, is one of those details that only becomes impressive when you sit with the stool for a while. The slight spring in the legs. The way it stacks so neatly with others if you own more than one. The proportions — 44 cm seat height — that work at almost any table or counter.
Honest cons: It’s not the most comfortable seat for long periods. No back support, obviously. And the birch surface stains if you spill wine and don’t wipe it up quickly (learned that one the hard way at a dinner party in 2021).
Would I buy it again? I’d buy three. I’m actively watching Tori.fi for a second one. The black version, this time.
3. Vitra Eames LTR Occasional Table
Bought: 2023, Vepsäläinen (Helsinki) Paid: €435 Verdict: Beautiful, but I wrestle with the price.
The Eames LTR — Low Table Rod Base — is a tiny side table designed by Charles and Ray Eames in 1950. Mine has the white laminate top with the gold leaf base. It sits next to the sofa and holds my evening tea, a book, and the remote control.
Let me tell you what’s good: it’s exquisite to look at. Those thin wire legs, the way the metal catches light, the perfect proportions. It’s light enough to move with one hand. The surface is easy to clean. And the gold leaf base against the white top has this quiet luxury that photographs beautifully — yes, I’m aware of how that sounds.
Now the honest part. €435. For a table that’s essentially a small square surface on wire legs. I had a moment, standing in the Vepsäläinen store in Ruoholahti, where I picked it up, looked at the price tag, put it down, walked away, came back, and said “fine” like I was surrendering.
The thing is, I could have found a similar-looking table for €50. Maybe €80. The Eames version has the heritage, the construction quality, the signed authentication — but does my morning coffee taste different on it? No.
Honest cons: Expensive for what it functionally does. The wire base scratches wooden floors if you’re not careful (I added felt pads immediately). And the white laminate shows coffee rings if you don’t use a coaster.
Would I buy it again? Honestly, maybe not. I love looking at it. But the price-to-function ratio is the worst of anything on this list. If you want the look, check secondhand first. I’ve seen similar Vitra pieces on Franckly (the Scandinavian secondhand design platform) for 40% less.
4. Iittala Aalto Vase (160mm, Clear)
Bought: 2019, Iittala outlet in Iittala village Paid: €79 (outlet price; retail around €129) Verdict: The definition of a design classic. Worth every euro.
Every Finnish home has one. My grandmother had one. My mother has two. Now I have one. The Aalto vase is almost a rite of passage.
And I resisted it for years. It felt too obvious. Too expected. Like buying a Marimekko bag at the airport — correct but unimaginative.
Then I found mine at the Iittala factory outlet during a road trip, and the clear glass caught the October light in a way that made me understand why this vase has been in continuous production since 1936. The organic wave shape. The weight of it in your hands — real, substantial mouth-blown glass. The way a single branch of pussy willow or three stems of dried grass looks absolutely perfect inside it.
Mine sits on the dining room windowsill. In summer it holds fresh flowers. In autumn, dried branches. In winter, nothing — just the glass catching whatever grey light Finland offers in January. And that emptiness is beautiful too. That’s good design. It doesn’t need to be filled to have presence.
Honest cons: It’s a dust collector. The curves make it hard to clean the inside (I use a bottle brush and white vinegar every month or so). And it will chip if you knock it against something — the glass is sturdy but not invincible. Keep it away from table edges.
Would I buy it again? Yes. But I’d say buy it in person, not online. Each one is slightly different because of the mouth-blown process, and you want to choose one whose curves appeal to your eye specifically. The outlet in Iittala village or the Iittala store on Esplanadi in Helsinki — go, hold a few, pick the one that speaks to you.
5. Vipp Pedal Bin
Bought: 2021, Finnish Design Shop Paid: €309 (for the 8-liter bathroom version) Verdict: Absurd price. Superb object.
Three hundred euros for a bin. I know. I KNOW.
My partner looked at me with genuine concern when I told him. “Three hundred euros. For a bin. For rubbish.” I couldn’t really argue. On paper, it makes no sense.
But. The Vipp bin has been manufactured since 1939, originally for hairdressing salons. The pedal mechanism is smooth and silent — after three years of daily use, it still opens and closes without a sound. The stainless steel body hasn’t scratched, dented, or shown any wear. The inner bucket lifts out effortlessly for cleaning. And it looks — I’m sorry — beautiful. In the bathroom, next to the dark tile floor and the white walls, it’s a piece of industrial design that you actually notice and appreciate.
Honest cons: THE PRICE. Also, replacement inner buckets are around €30, which feels like adding insult. And for the kitchen, you’d need the larger model which pushes well past €400. I wouldn’t go there. The bathroom version is where this makes the most sense.
Would I buy it again? Reluctantly, yes. The build quality means it will likely outlast me. I think of it as a €309 bin divided by thirty years of use: about €10 a year. That math helps me sleep at night.
6. Johanna Gullichsen Textiles
Bought: Various pieces from 2019 to present Paid: Cushion cover fabric ~€65/m, tea towels ~€28 each Verdict: Underrated. These deserve more attention internationally.
Johanna Gullichsen is a Finnish textile designer whose geometric, Bauhaus-influenced woven fabrics are stunningly good. I discovered her at a small design shop in Turku — not even looking for textiles — and ended up buying a metre of the Doris fabric in dark brown and cream.
I had it made into a cushion cover at a small seamstress shop in Sörnäinen (€20 for the sewing). That cushion sits on my sofa and gets more compliments than anything else in the apartment. People pick it up, turn it over, feel the weight of the cotton. “Where is this from?” Every time.
I’ve since added two of her Normandie tea towels to the kitchen. They’re thick, absorbent, and the geometric patterns turn a functional item into something you’d happily hang on display. At €28 each, they’re not cheap for tea towels — but they’re constructed to last decades, and the design doesn’t date.
If you’re interested in how Finnish textiles fit into the broader story of Scandinavian interior design, Gullichsen is one of the names to know.
Honest cons: Limited availability outside Finland. Some patterns are quite bold and specific — make sure you see the fabric in person if possible. The weave can feel stiff initially; it softens significantly after a few washes.
Would I buy again? Absolutely. I want the Nereus pattern next.
The Replica Question
I know someone’s thinking it. “Why not just buy replicas?”
Here’s my position, and I’ve gone back and forth on this over the years.
For pieces still under design protection (generally 70 years after the designer’s death in the EU), buying replicas means buying counterfeits. It harms living designers and the companies that invest in producing these pieces. That’s a clear line for me.
For older designs where protection has expired — it’s more complicated. But I’ll say this: every replica I’ve ever seen in person has felt noticeably inferior. Thinner materials. Rougher finishes. Mechanisms that degrade quickly. The original Artek Stool 60 is still functional after ninety years. A replica from a random online store gives you maybe five.
If budget is the constraint — and it often is, I completely understand that — buy secondhand originals. The design resale market in Finland is excellent. Tori.fi, Franckly, the UFF stores, Design Torilla events. My Artek stool was secondhand. Several of my Iittala pieces are secondhand. They have stories. They have patina. They cost a fraction of retail. There’s more on finding great vintage-modern mixes here.
Where to Buy (In Finland and Online)
For anyone building a collection:
Finnish Design Shop (finnishdesignshop.com) — My go-to for new pieces. Excellent range, reliable shipping, occasional sales that make premium pieces more accessible.
Vepsäläinen — If you want to see and sit on furniture before buying. Their Helsinki showrooms are worth a visit even if you’re just browsing. The Ruoholahti location has the widest Vitra selection I’ve seen in Finland.
Iittala outlets — The factory village in Iittala (about 1.5 hours from Helsinki) and the Iittala & Arabia Design Centre in Helsinki. Seconds and discontinued lines at significant discounts. The “defects” are usually invisible.
Artek 2nd Cycle — Artek’s own secondhand program. Authenticated vintage pieces, properly restored. More expensive than random secondhand finds, but the provenance is guaranteed.
Tori.fi — Finland’s largest secondhand marketplace. Set alerts for specific items. I check it weekly. Patience pays off here — I’ve found Aalto vases for €40, Marimekko textiles for practically nothing, and once, an Artek tea trolley for €180 that would have been €900 new.
My Honest Advice on Investing in Design
Don’t buy everything at once. I built my collection over seven years, one or two pieces a year, mixed with plenty of IKEA basics and secondhand finds. The expensive pieces earn their place against the affordable background — that contrast is actually part of what makes a home feel real rather than like a showroom.
Buy what you’ll use daily. The Atollo earns its price because I switch it on every single evening. A €500 vase that sits on a shelf and never gets flowers? That’s not an investment. That’s decoration guilt.
Touch things before you buy them. Weight, texture, how a pedal feels under your foot, how a lamplight falls — these can’t be evaluated from a screen. Visit showrooms. Go to design markets. If you’re planning a trip to Helsinki, block an afternoon for this.
And save intentionally. I keep a dedicated “home” envelope in my budgeting app. €30 here, €50 there. When something calls to me, the money is already waiting. No credit card regret. Just anticipation and then satisfaction.
Because the best design pieces don’t just sit in your home. They become part of how you live in it. And that — that accumulated daily pleasure — is what you’re actually paying for.
My next save-up target? A Flos Arco floor lamp. Ask me in 2027 whether it was worth it. I’m betting yes.
For more on building a home with pieces that last — both financially and aesthetically — I’ve written about sustainable approaches to home furnishing that might shift how you think about buying.
