The Year of Living Danishly by Helen Russell

you need to think about.’
    I scribble all this down on a Post-It. Lego Man, who is craning to hear our conversation, leans in closer so that I have to swat him away before writing:
    â€˜She says we only need A FEW KEY ITEMS.’
    I set down the pen to give Charlotte my full attention again. When I glance back at the pad, I see Lego Man has added a ‘’ to the end of my message and wandered off in a huff to find more ways to spend money we don’t yet have on things we don’t really need for the home we don’t own.
    I ask Charlotte about hygge and she tells me that Danish homes typically have throws or blankets on the sofa for extra cosiness, as well as lots of cushions.
    â€˜Danes even have separate summer and winter cushions,’ she tells me. ‘There’s a big market for them here – when money’s tight and you can’t quite stretch to a new piece of furniture, you can spend 500 kroner on a great cushion that will make your room look fresh.’ Upwards of £50, or $90, for a cushion ? This still seems pretty steep to me, and I wonder whether I’m too tight for this oh-so-stylish country.
    â€˜So does the average Dane spend a lot on their home?’ I ask.
    â€˜I think we probably do prioritise spending on design,’ says Charlotte. ‘Figures from before the financial crisis showed that we were the nation that spent the most money on furniture in the world, per capita. Plus Danes really value good design, craft and quality. We want to buy something we can use for many years and pass down to our children.’ She mentions a few of the big names in Danish design, from Arne Jacobsen to Finn Juhl and Poul Henningsen – names I’m vaguely familiar with having spoken to Anne-Louise and from the pages of Lego Man’s deco-porn. I’d struggle to identify their work or pick a Poul Henningsen lamp out of a line-up at this stage, but Charlotte tells me that most Danes are pretty clued up on their designers.
    â€˜Everyone in Denmark knows who Arne Jacobsen is and about his work – not just design fans,’ she says. The idea that design is part of the national consciousness helps me to understand why the Danish homes we’ve seen look as though they’re straight out of a newspaper lifestyle supplement. I learn that Poul Henningsen’s lamps are so popular here that 50 per cent of Danes have at least one in their home. ‘People feel good about supporting Danish brands,’ Charlotte explains. ‘They want something that’s been hand-made here. Our design is something we celebrate and can be proud of, so yes, we do spend on it. And since the 1960s when more Danes began owning their own homes and both men and women worked, we’ve been able to afford to spend more money on furniture and design.’
    Conscious of Lego Man listening in and champing at the bit to bring our ‘emergency’ UK credit card into play, I ask Charlotte to recommend five key Danish design touches that will sate my in-house Scandophile and help make our home hygge . She rises, stylishly, to the challenge.
    â€˜I’d start with a great wooden dining table for your daily meals, as well as talking and relaxing around,’ she begins. I’m just feeling smug about the oak six-seater we already own when she adds, ‘And in Denmark this should normally have at least eight chairs so you can have lots of people round.’ Shit. We’re clearly not sociable enough. ‘Two more chairs,’ I write down, ‘and possibly a bigger table.’ Lego Man’s eyes light up.
    â€˜Then I’d invest in a hand-crafted chair like an Arne Jacobsen or a Hans Wegner or a Børge Mogensen,’ Charlotte goes on. ‘Your average Danish home might also have a designer lamp like Poul Henningsen’s PH or an Arne Jacobsen AJ from Louis Poulsen. Then there’s the Kubus candleholder – this is typically Danish and a lot