Keeper’s Dining Chairs Buying Guide

We often call the table the heart of the home—but it’s the dining chairs that let you settle in and stay. Whether it’s family lunch, a dinner party, or homework after work, comfort matters more than we realise.

Shared meals have real benefits: from boosting kids’ vocabulary to lowering stress. But too often, we fidget or shift without knowing why. A good dining chair invites you to linger.

Unlike tables, chairs support the body. They’re moved, leaned on, rocked, dragged—and expected to last.

So what makes a dining chair a Keeper? We asked four experts: makers from Marchmont Workshop, Ercol, Kaplan 1934, and design consultant and craftsman Simon Haase, for their advice on what to look for.

This guide shares the seven questions to ask before buying and how to choose a chair that truly lasts. And at the end, you’ll find a curated selection of Keeper-worthy dining chairs from iconic designs to craftsmanship-led pieces built to stay.

1. Does this dining chair suit your life not just your room?

Before falling in love with a shape or style, consider your everyday life:

• Who’s sitting here—and how long? A family of five eating every day? A couple hosting often? Someone working from the table part-time?
• How often do you move them? Look for lightweight chairs if you tidy often. Ash and oak—used by Marchmont and Ercol—are light enough to move easily but strong enough for daily use. Marchmont even steam-bends curves so wood fibres follow the grain, making the legs lighter and stronger.
• Do they need to stack or store well?
• How tight is your space? Chairs without arms or with a slim profile let you squeeze in more seats.

Let your daily habits guide you. Choose a dining chair that fits your rhythm, not just your room.

2. How does the dining chair fit with your table and your space?

A comfortable dining chair means little if it doesn’t work with your table or fit your space.

• Can the chairs tuck under the table easily? Tables with corner-set legs or stretcher beams may block chair arms or limit legroom.
• Are you working with limited space? Armless or slim chairs help fit more people around a tight table.
• Buying a table too? Look for pedestal or inset-leg tables to maximise leg and chair space.
• Need to squeeze in guests? Make sure chairs can be pulled in close without crowding knees.

Comfort starts with fit. Make sure your table and chairs don’t fight each other for space.

3. Can I sit here through dinner and stay for stories?

Too many dining chairs are chosen for their looks, not their feel. But the right chair should invite you to stay—through dessert, conversation, or homework.

Ask yourself:

• Does the chair feel stable and supportive or do you shift around?
• Is the backrest angled just right? A 10–15° recline (or 100–105° seat-to-back angle) encourages ease without tipping into lounge mode.
• Do you want armrests? They offer comfort but can make it harder to get in and out—especially in smaller spaces.
• Is the seat height right for your table and your household? If not, a cushion or felt pad might help fine-tune the fit.

Simon suggests: “If you’re not sure, test a few heights. Or add a simple cushion to adjust. And always check if the chair makes you feel relaxed—without slouching.”

Marchmont’s rush-woven seats shape naturally to your body and stay breathable for long meals. Ercol’s Lugo chairs add comfort with shaping and armrests.

Comfort isn’t a luxury. It’s what keeps you at the table when the stories begin.

4. What kind of joints are holding it all together and will they last?

Dining chairs get more wear than almost anything else in the home. They’re dragged, leaned on, rocked back, and shifted daily. The joints—the quiet connectors beneath the surface—often determine how long they’ll last.

• Seek interlocking joints, not shortcuts. Mortise-and-tenon and wedged joints have been trusted for centuries. For metal dining chairs, opt for welded joints.
• Avoid chairs overloaded with screws. Screws on a removable seat are fine. But if the whole frame relies on them, expect wobbles and yearly tightening.
• Skip flat-pack builds. Even small shifts in humidity during shipping—or one misstep in home assembly—can weaken the structure.

Kaplan assembles every chair in-house, in a climate-controlled workshop. “The humidity is stable, the machining is precise,” they explain. “That guarantees long-term durability.” Their chairs use hydraulically pressed mortise-and-tenon joints, left to dry slowly—no shortcuts.

Ercol uses wedged joints—legs passed through the seat and locked in with a wooden wedge.

Marchmont assembles joints almost without glue. As greenwood dries, the leg shrinks around the tenon. “It creates a lock stronger than glue,” Sam explains.

Whether through glue, wedge, or moisture-driven contraction—choose a chair whose joints are designed to last.

5. What finish fits your lifestyle and will you care for it?

The finish on your chair shapes how it ages and how you care for it. Choose one that fits your lifestyle.

• Natural oils let wood breathe and age gracefully. They’re soft to the touch and easy to renew. But spills can stain and oil finishes need occasional upkeep.
• Lacquer seals the surface, offering better protection from moisture and stains. But scratches are harder to fix and refinishing may require a return to the maker.
• Metal finishes should be powder-coated (not painted) if coloured—for better scratch resistance. Stainless steel lasts longest; aluminium resists oxidation and can be anodised.
• Upholstery looks polished but adds upkeep. Simon suggests: use a plain wooden seat and add a removable cushion.
• Rush seats offer comfort and breathability. Sam from Marchmont explains: “A rush seat will last 30 to 40 years if it’s taken care of. It’s water-resistant. Spill something? Just dry it by a radiator.”

A beautiful patina comes from living with a chair not worrying about it.

6. Will this dining chair still feel right in ten years?

Timelessness isn’t about looking “classic”—it’s about still feeling right after years of use.

Ask yourself:

• Is this chair honest in design or chasing trends?
• Will it still feel at home if you repaint the room or move house?

Simon put it best: “You’re not marrying a chair—but you are choosing how long it stays in your life.” He warns against buying cheap dining chairs you’ll throw out in a few years. Even recycling them takes energy and resources. Better to invest in one that stays in use or holds value when passed on or resold.

Kaplan spends months refining structure and connections before releasing a new design.

Ercol’s spindle-back chairs date to the 1920s and remain in use today. Several dining chairs in their collection—spindle-back, turned-leg classics—date back to the 1920s. Their timeless appeal is matched by durability: “We regularly hear from customers who pass them down through generations.”

Marchmont still uses a reference chair from 1868 it’s never been restored and still holds strong. “It just works,” Sam says. And when something works for over a century, that’s not nostalgia. That’s good design.

7. Who made the dining chair and does it show?

Chairs are among the hardest pieces of furniture to get right. They must be strong but light, precise yet flexible, and comfortable enough for long dinners.

That’s why it matters who made them. Simon says: “The best chairmakers spend 300 hours designing a chair not five.”

Kaplan spent over a year balancing engineering and elegance in their Elica chair. “Some parts must be slim, others must be strong. You need to get the design right, and at the same time the joints need to certain construction so they stay for years to come.”

At Ercol, some craftsmen have worked for decades, using machines from the 1920s because they still make the best chairs.

So if you want a chair that lasts, look for one of two things: a specialised maker or a time-tested design.

Dining Chairs Worth Keeping: A Curated Selection

These aren’t just beautiful chairs, they’re pieces chosen to match real needs, thoughtful design, and timeless construction. Whether you’re working with limited space, prioritising comfort, or searching for a chair you can pass down, this selection reflects the questions and qualities from our guide. All are made in Europe, with care and longevity in mind.

Dining Chairs for Tight Spaces or Frequent Moving

If you clean often, host in a small space, or need to rearrange regularly, go for lighter, armless designs—ideally stackable or slim-profile.

Dining Chairs with Armrests (If You Have Room to Stretch)

Perfect for long meals in dining rooms with more generous space.

Dining Time-Tested Designs (Pre-1960 Icons Still Made Today)

Heritage designs that still feel good, look good, and hold up decades later.

Craftsmanship-Focused Dining Chairs (From Forest to Finish)

Made by people who live and breathe chairs—with care, precision, and slow production methods.

Final Takeaway

In the end, what makes a dining chair a Keeper isn’t just the look—it’s the quiet decisions behind it:

A shape that fits your space.
A seat that supports long meals.
Joints that don’t wobble.
Materials that age well—and can be cared for.
Design that feels right years from now.
And the hands that made it with thought and skill.

Buy once. Buy well. And you might just pass it on.

And one last thing—don’t forget: “If you sit too long, it cuts off blood supply,” Simon reminds us. “In Germany, we say sitting is the new smoking.”

Enjoyed this guide? Read our Dining Table Buying Guide and subscribe to The Keepers for more expert tips, maker stories, and timeless pieces that stay with you—for years, not seasons.

How I Started Looking for the Last Real European Makers

When I think about how my grandmother used to buy furniture, it strikes me how little she had to look beyond her town. The best craftsmen – many making what we’d now call made in Europe furniture – were known by word of mouth: respected, trusted, and celebrated. People connected not only to the products but to the makers themselves. You visited the workshop, spoke about your needs, received advice, and left with something that would accompany your family for generations. And if it happened that a product broke or needed some love, she would simply bring it back to get it fixed.

Today, we stand at a tipping point. The traditional, sustainable ways of crafting good-quality goods are disappearing fast, as the last generation of master craftsmen begins to retire. If we want to preserve this knowledge — and the benefits it brings to our homes, our health, and our planet — we must act now and start buying those products made in Europe.

During my maternity leave, what began as a hobby quickly became a passion: searching for the “last keepers,” those who still create with local, durable materials, time-proven techniques, timeless design, and provide practical maintenance advice.
The good news? For many, a craft renaissance is happening now. New generations are stepping into their parents’ and grandparents’ shoes, armed with digital skills but keeping intact the core values of pride, quality, and heritage. We call it neocraftmanship.

Why Buying Artisan Product Made in Europe Is Better for Your Home and the Planet

Here’s what I learned as I surfed, visited, and listened—and why I believe European makers are a big part of the answer to making more thoughtful purchases for our health, our homes, and our planet.

1. They understand their materials and avoid shortcuts

When you choose a piece from a maker, you’re buying from someone who really knows their material. They understand how to work with it—not against it. No shortcuts, no harsh chemicals, no forcing it into something it’s not meant to be. Instead, they respect the material’s natural qualities, its strengths and its quirks, and bring out its best. That’s the difference you feel in something truly made in Europe.

We especially like to pick those makers that focus on no more than two core materials, because that’s where true mastery happens. The more a maker tries to cover everything, the more diluted the knowledge becomes—and the harder it is to trace how things are actually made. Plus, they’re often fantastic at advising you—helping you choose the type of material that’s right for your needs (and steering you away from what’s not).

2. Their methods have stood the test of time

When you buy from a maker, you’re not getting an experiment. You’re getting something made in Europe, with a method that’s been refined over time—and kept alive because it consistently delivers better, longer-lasting results.

Many European makers still use the same methods their grandparents did, because they know it produces better outcomes. These traditional techniques aren’t about nostalgia. They’re often more precise, more material-friendly, and less energy-intensive than modern shortcuts. They continue to outlast anything mass-produced today.

3. Their designs connect us to something deeper

When you bring one of these pieces into your home, you’re not just adding decoration—you’re carrying on a story. Many European makers draw on traditional patterns and iconic shapes that have stood the test of centuries, becoming symbols of local or national identity. These forms aren’t just beautiful—they’re functional, timeless, and deeply rooted in our cultural memory.

Psychologists like Donald M. Rattner, author of My Creative Space, point out that our minds respond to patterns and familiar forms in the spaces we live in. These designs help us feel more grounded, more creative, more at ease.

And like a good story, these objects age well. They’re not just beautiful to live with: they’re investments made in Europe, often collected or passed down, their value growing along with their story.

4. They refuse to rush what should take time

When you choose a piece from a maker, you’re choosing something that wasn’t made to hit a quarterly target. These makers aren’t chasing growth for growth’s sake—they’re focused on doing things right. That means no rushing, no cutting corners, and no compromising just to produce more.

Many work in small batches or made-to-order, so they only produce what’s needed. Once a limited collection is gone, it’s gone. That’s not scarcity marketing—it’s craft pacing. This made-in-Europe approach avoids overproduction, protects quality, and keeps waste low.

5. They help us care for what we have

These makers don’t just sell you something and walk away. They teach you how to care for it—often sharing detailed maintenance guides based on years of real experience with their materials. Some even create and sell their own care products made in Europe, the ones they know work best for keeping their pieces strong and beautiful for decades.

If something needs fixing, they’re there for that too. Many offer repair services or even buy-back options. It’s a different mindset: one that says good things are meant to stay with you, not end up in landfill. Offering maintenance advice and repair services extends the lifespan of furniture, reduces the need for new resources, and minimizes environmental impact. It also fosters a culture of care and responsibility, encouraging us to value and preserve what we own.

6. They turn heritage into everyday value

Buying from these makers isn’t just about the object—it’s about keeping endangered skills in use—not in books. They bring stories into your home: using old looms, reviving skills that were almost lost, and finding new, relevant ways to keep ancient wisdom alive. Often, these traditional methods turn out to be more sustainable or healthier than many modern shortcuts.

They don’t stop at making products—they study traditional patterns, open museums, run workshops, and organize festivals like the Idrijska Čipka Festival. They invite you (and your kids) to see, learn, and even try the techniques for yourself. Who knows—maybe you’ll get hooked, and become a part of continuing this heritage, too.

7. They live and work on family terms

Many of these workshops are run like families—because they are families. Kids learn the craft by watching their parents, or join to help modernize the business. They shut down for summer holidays. They put life first, and business second. When you buy something made in Europe by them, you’re choosing to support that kind of balance—and maybe even get inspired about how to live and work ourselves.

8. They build with pride in their place and people

Imagine if the things in your home didn’t just fill space—but told you where they’re from, and who made them.

Homes that reflect their surroundings—built with local materials, traditional techniques, and cultural memory—don’t just look right. They feel right. When furniture carries the essence of the place it was made, it becomes more than functional—it becomes meaningful. These are the kinds of pieces we’re drawn to keep, renovate, and protect.

European makers are deeply proud of where they come from. They know the specificities of their local materials, the stories behind traditional patterns, and the cultural meaning built into each object. Through their work, they promote their region’s heritage with quiet confidence—crafting objects that reflect identity as much as function.

And this pride runs deeper than aesthetics. Many of these makers invest directly in their local communities, creating jobs, sharing skills, and protecting the natural landscapes that surround them. Their work doesn’t just stay in the home—it strengthens the place around it.

9. Made in Europe: trusted, self-sufficient, and close to home

When you buy local, you don’t need to rely on certificates or marketing slogans to feel confident in your choice. You can see where things come from, who made them, and how they were treated along the way. These makers are closer to their materials and to the problems that come with extracting and using them. They don’t want to cut down the forests where their kids ski, or pollute the land they call home. Their teams are often made up of neighbours and lifelong friends, protected by strong European labor laws.

They use local materials, hire local people, and keep production nearby. That means fewer transport emissions, more resilient supply chains, and full transparency from start to finish. It’s a self-sufficient system that protects both people and planet and builds furniture you can trust.

10. They don’t say ‘sustainable’—they just are

They don’t need ‘green’ slogans. They just make better things. As Jony Ive once said, “A great cabinet maker finishes the back of the drawer“, not because anyone will see it, but because care and integrity show up everywhere. It’s sustainability without the self-congratulation, just honest, thoughtful making.

And because they work this way, their pieces bring real benefits into your home: fewer hidden chemicals, lower carbon footprints, longer-lasting materials. No greenwashing, no empty promises, just products made-in-Europe that leave less behind and last far longer.

When you buy from them, you’re not supporting a marketing campaign. You’re investing in a way of life where doing good isn’t an option; it’s the only way they know.

Conclusion: The Truth About Thoughtful Buying: Look Closer to Home, Buy Made in Europe

If we want to make more thoughtful purchases for our health, homes, and the planet, we have to move beyond labels and buzzwords. Certificates we barely understand. “Sustainable” brands shipping products from across the world. Cheap “deals” that clutter our homes and pollute our lives.

Instead, we need to return to buying from our neighbors. From real people whose pride you can see in every piece. From workshops that carry the stories, the knowledge, and the mastery of generations.

When we choose European makers, we’re not just buying furniture made in Europe. We’re rebuilding a way of life: one where quality matters more than quantity, where local communities thrive, where our homes reflect what we truly value.

We don’t need new certificates. We need old wisdom, and more things made in Europe with that wisdom in mind.”

And if we choose wisely now, we’ll have something real — something full of story, care, and soul — to pass down, just like our grandparents once did.

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A Story About What’s Worth Holding Onto

What will my grandchildren inherit from me?

That question sits with me more often than I expected—especially now, raising my baby girl.

My grandmother will leave behind embroidered bedding, softened by decades of washing and ironing, and a table that fed four generations and still echoes with laughter, arguments, and stories. She will leave behind objects worth keeping, memories we cherish, and stories from behind the table we will share with the next generation.

And I wonder: what will I leave behind? Will there be anything my grandchildren will fight over? Will we have core memories around the table—or will our minds be elsewhere, lost in work and screen time?

We are the first generation in centuries that risks passing on nothing of lasting value.

But something is shifting. Quietly, steadily. A movement is growing—not loud or angry, but deliberate and deeply personal. We’re asking better questions. Letting go of more. Holding onto what matters.

We dare to imagine a world where we make and keep only what truly matters.

We call those moments and things: The Keepers.

3 Generations, 3 Stories

The Grandmother: A Life of Holding On

My grandmother grew up just after World War II. Her mother gave her what she could—safety, a roof, and food on the table. As she likes to say, they ate polenta for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. So when my grandmother raised her own children, she gave them more: financial stability, a better education, and the full table she never had.

To her, a home isn’t a place to impress. It’s where you give your family everything you have. Her table has hosted baptisms, funerals, Sunday lunches, and spontaneous visits from neighbours. Her bedding was passed down to her, and now she plans to do the same—for me.

Everything in her home has a memory, has a story – things worth holding onto. And when she’s gone, those stories will still be here—stitched into linen, carved into wood, passed from hand to hand.

The Mother: A Life of Accumulating

My mother started her family in the 1990s, when Slovenia became independent. The West was the dream. Homemade marmalade was swapped for supermarket jam. Fast became better. Branded meant trustworthy. New equalled good.

She wanted to give me more than she had: financial safety, a good education. She was the first in our family to go to university. And she gave me what she craved herself—quality time, care, and a world of opportunities.
But one of the things she overdid was giving us too much. She keeps saying her generation had just enough and they were happy. Sometimes I wonder if she wishes she’d stopped there.

Her home is full of things that carry memories—but also stress. The attic is stacked. The storage room, a maze. “Just in case,” she’d say.

Now she sees it differently. She may leave us clutter, not meaning.
No one will have time to find the five items that matter when there are five hundred to sort through. And she feels the weight of it every day.

She says she’ll spend her retirement sorting it. I know she won’t.

The Daughter (Me): A Life of Rethinking

I left my home village to see the world. I landed in London, in the consulting fast lane, where people run on adrenaline, Deliveroo, and Amazon Prime. Everything is brought to you—because no one has time for anything. At first, it felt like success. I could afford a lot, but soon realised none of it brought me joy. I didn’t have time to enjoy it. And nothing made me feel at home.

Modern life rewards speed but punishes presence. Working hard became a substitute for connection. Convenience is seductive—but it steals our time. Too many options. Too much FOMO. We buy what we don’t need, then stress over how to store, waste, or resell it – instead of choosing things worth holding onto. But in a world that moves that fast, there’s no time to pause—let alone change.

Then I had my daughter.

Everything shifted.

I had time to reflect. To reconnect—with family, with friends, and most of all, with myself and my values.

Suddenly, I could see the pattern.

Each generation had given more: more safety, more opportunity, more presence. If I stayed in London, I could give my daughter even more material comfort than I had—but not my time, not my attention and with that the feeling of safety, love and connection.

If I carried on, it would be the first time in three generations that the daughter received less. And that didn’t feel right.

We began to think about moving back to my village in Slovenia. I didn’t just want a different life. I wanted a different way to live—for me, my family, and my daughter. A way to live that gives priority to connection with loved ones, and brings contentment through what we own and keep.
It was time to change.

Maybe your story looks different. Maybe you never left your hometown. Or inherited a bedsheet. Maybe you built your career, your home, your life in a city that now feels too fast.
But maybe you’ve still felt it—that quiet discomfort. That sense that all the access to all the things in the world hasn’t made life easier or happier. That restlessness when home doesn’t feel at peace.
That feeling that something’s missing—and maybe it’s not more things, but more connection.

If you’ve felt that, you’re not alone.

What I Want to Build

I’m building my home differently, buy things worth holding onto and I’ll share what I learn along the way. In the coming weeks, I’ll introduce the Keepers I find—craftsmen, stories, and pieces I hope my daughter will one day pass on.

I spent years chasing what I thought I needed. Now I’m learning what’s actually worth keeping.

I want time for connection and rituals. I can’t work day and night to buy things I barely notice. I want to work enough. Buy intentionally. And fill the rest of my time with moments that matter: breakfasts that aren’t rushed, a couch for sharing stories after work, Saturday mornings that don’t begin with a delivery box.

I want a home that outlives me. No trendy tiles or fast fashion sofas. I want local materials, shaped by people who understand this place. A house with a soul—one that can be loved by generations, the kind that gets restored, not torn down.

I want lasting furniture that hold stories. IKEA doesn’t last. Big design brands confuse me—am I buying quality or just a label? I want to buy from people like my grandmother did: local craftsmen and small manufacturers who know materials they work with inside out. Who care about what they make. Who don’t cut corners. Who do it the slow way—the right way.
I want to re-learn how to care for what I own, for things worth holding onto. Care takes time—and we’ve forgotten how to polish a table, repair a chair. We’ve lost those rituals. I want to bring them back.
So that I can tell the stories of who’s sat at that table over the last 50 years.

The Keepers: A Quiet Rebellion

Today, there’s no real offer for people who feel connected to themselves.

The world gives us trends but forgets to ask what memories we want to make. It gives us innovation, but hides the old wisdom and time-proven techniques that make things last. It pushes us to spend endlessly—and gives us no time to buy with intention.
The current model isn’t making us happier. Or healthier. Or more at peace. If anything, data shows rising anxiety, loneliness, and decision fatigue.

Our homes are meant to be sanctuaries, not warehouses.

Innovation is exciting. But tradition is proven. Trends are attractive. But timeless beauty is real. Shopping is fun. But storing is stressful. And waste is simply bad.

Keepers aren’t just things. They’re reminders. Of how we want to live.
Of what we want our children to have and remember.

A Keeper is the chair you hope your child will sit in with their own child.
It’s the bowl that chips but never breaks.
The table that holds every mark, every meal, every memory.

A Keeper isn’t a style. It’s a stance.

It says: I choose good things that last.

You’re Invited

This blog will grow into a place to find Keepers for your own home. Not products. Not trends. But heirloom pieces—made with care, made to last, and made to be lived with. Things worth holding onto.
And behind each piece, a way of living—slower, warmer, and more connected. Let’s build homes worth keeping—so one day, when someone asks what we left behind, the answer will be: something that mattered.

I’d love to hear your story. What’s the one thing in your home you want the next generation to inherit?
Share it with me, or tag it #thekeepersmovement.