This $18 IKEA Item Moved with Me Over 16 Times—And Still Looked Like New

When I moved from Santa Monica to New York City in 2010, I had no idea that I was about to spend the next eight years changing apartments. I simply thought I was going back to school for a few years, and planned to get a long term place after the first semester. Instead, I moved 25 times in just under a decade.

For my first move, though, the plan was to make my new dorm room feel cozy. The easiest way to do that was to take an IKEA trip, naturally. Little did I know I’d form a years-long attachment to one of my purchases—it’d become the only thing I never shed over the course of my many moves. 

So, off I went with my design-savvy friend Katey, gathering plush pillows, a large area rug, bed linens, pots, pans, knives, scissors, lamps, a bright orange wastebasket, and one very special stool.

During that fateful IKEA visit, Katey and I followed the curving yellow path to each and every showroom. It was in one of those showrooms that I spotted it: the FLISAT Children’s Stool, sitting pretty as a mini side table in a fake kids’ room. It was love at first sight: I knew that little table would make the perfect nightstand next to my dorm’s twin bed. And it did.

We left IKEA barely able to carry our haul to the ferry back to Manhattan. Katey dutifully helped me move everything up to my tenth-floor room, then we parted ways. I spent the night getting set up, starting with my stool. It was surprisingly easy to put together—and intensely satisfying to place upright with some books, my phone, and a box of tissues on it. 

Eventually, I left my little dorm room, and the tiny pine table—which was a more square model of the current FLISAT for sale in stores today—came with me. When I packed it up, I found that upside down, it cradled my orange wastebasket perfectly, allowing me to fill it with things for compact transportation. From there, I subletted furnished apartments, but always found a spot for the little table. It held books beside a comfy chair, and sometimes served its purpose as a stool. I even used it for product photography a few times. 

With each move, I let go of pieces I no longer needed, donating them to charities and thrift stores. It was around move six or seven, though, when I truly marveled at the little stool. It never appeared to have a scratch on it, despite being not-so-gently tossed around and shoved in and out of countless SUVs and vans.

Once, I oiled the table when a bitter cold winter required I blast the heat so much that my skin started cracking. (I worried the light wood needed some help, too.) This made the color deepen slightly over time, causing me to love it even more. 

I did bring my own sheets, towels, and a few kitchen utensils along with me to most of my apartments, but my tiny little table became more and more important to me as I continued to find the perfect spot for it in each place. It comforted me as I adjusted to my new surroundings so many times, magically appearing new in all of my homes. Is it strange to have sentimental attachment to a $18 table from IKEA? Maybe. But that little guy was always there to make me feel at home.