The most reliable way to tell if a vintage furniture piece is authentic isn't just one clue, but the sum of several: the manufacturer's mark, how the drawers are made, the wood, the patina, and the consistency among all these details. A single piece of information proves nothing. The whole story does.
For years, we've been turning furniture over before buying it. Literally: we turn it upside down, pull out the drawers, examine the screws with a flashlight. And over time, you learn that good pieces tell you what they are, if you know where to look.
This guide is what we would have liked someone to tell us from the beginning. No mysteries, no smoke and mirrors.
Start by flipping it over: stamps, labels, and embossments
The first place to look is where it's not visible. The bottom, the back, the inside of a drawer.
Danish mid-century manufacturers were proud of their work and marked it. Carl Hansen & Søn, who has continuously manufactured Hans J. Wegner's Wishbone chair (CH24) since 1950, marks their pieces with a label, burn mark, or stamp, almost always with a model number. Fritz Hansen used a dated stamp on the bottom: in the 60s and before, the format was MMYY (for example, "7202" is February 1972) and later just YYYY. A useful detail for narrowing down the age almost to the month.
France & Søn, one of today's most sought-after names, has its own chronology of marks. The firm was called France & Daverkosen until 1957, when it became France & Søn, and in the mid-60s it was acquired by Poul Cadovius and became CADO. An "FD" stamp before the serial number points to the early years. Getama, for its part, stamped its logo on the frame, something seen in pieces like Wegner's GE290 sofa, presented at the Fredericia fair in 1962.
That's the other key point: in Denmark, the same designer would sell their designs to several manufacturers. A Wegner chair can be authentic whether it was made by Carl Hansen, PP Møbler, or Getama; what changes is the quality and production dates. That's why we always look for the manufacturer's mark apart from the designer's name.
The Danish Furniture Makers' Control stamp
There's one mark that deserves its own chapter: the round stamp of the Danish Furnituremakers' Control (Dansk Møbelkontrol). The association itself (now Furn-tech) describes it as "the world's oldest voluntary furniture control system," established in 1959 "at the request of American furniture distributors who wanted guarantees against the problems brought by poor quality." It's not a manufacturer's mark, but a certificate of quality and Danish origin carried only by manufacturers who passed periodic inspections (it was even registered as a trademark in the US in 1983). If you find it, you know two things: that the piece is Danish and that it dates from 1959 or later.
An important note: the absence of a label does not condemn a piece. Paper labels fall off, come off when cleaning, or the previous owner removed them for aesthetic reasons. When the stamp is missing, you have to read the construction.
How to identify an original designer furniture piece by its construction
This is where good furniture separates from those that only look good. Style is copied; the way things are built, much less so.
Dovetail joints tell the age
Pull out a drawer and look at the corner where the front meets the side. Hand-cut dovetail joints are irregular: the pins and tails have different sizes, and there are often small chisel marks at the bottom of each gap. Machine-cut ones are identical to each other, with perfect spacing. The dovetail cutting machine became widespread around the end of the 19th century, so perfectly uniform dovetails indicate a piece from after that date.
And a 1960s Danish sideboard? There you would expect clean but period-appropriate dovetail joints, connecting solid teak fronts to sides made of a more humble secondary wood, almost always oak or ash. This contrast between the noble front and the simple interior is an honest sign of good manufacturing from that era.
Veneer vs. solid wood (and why veneer is not bad)
Many people believe that "veneered" is synonymous with "bad." False. The best Danish sideboards combine well-chosen teak or rosewood veneer—often book-matched grain—over a stable core, with solid wood handles, edges, and legs. Veneer allowed for spectacular grains that in solid wood would move and crack with changes in humidity. It's not a shortcut: it's a technical decision.
What does betray a modern replica is very thin veneer over particle board, with no solid wood visible anywhere. Lift the piece: solid teak is heavy, very heavy. If someone is going to copy someone else's design, they rarely bother to use expensive and difficult-to-work-with materials.
A note on woods, while we're at it: teak has a warm golden hue, a slightly waxy feel due to its natural oils, and a fairly straight grain. Rosewood is darker, with very pronounced black veins that almost look like they were drawn in ink. Once you see it, you won't confuse it.
Period screws and hardware
Screws speak. If you find a Phillips head screw in a piece of furniture supposedly from before the late 1930s, it's either a later repair or the dating is false. The Phillips design was patented by John P. Thompson in 1932 (US Patent 1,908,080); Henry F. Phillips bought the rights and founded his company in 1934, and the first major industrial client was General Motors, which used it to assemble Cadillacs in 1937. Before that, it didn't exist.
Old slotted screws often have a slightly off-center slot. Also, look at the consistency of wear: brass hardware with deep, dark patina accumulated in the crevices, not a uniform, overly orange gold that usually betrays recent reproduction. And if the hardware doesn't fit cleanly into its recess, or there are misaligned screw holes, someone changed something along the way.
Authentic patina vs. artificial aging
Patina is my favorite sign. It's that darkening and soft feel that time gives, and it's very difficult to fake well.
Authentic patina is logical: it appears where hands have actually touched. The edges of a tabletop, the armrests of an armchair, the handles of a chest of drawers. It darkens in protected corners and lightens where there is constant friction. Artificial aging, on the other hand, is flat and random: scratches in places no one would ever touch, "wear" that feels rough or looks like it was made with sandpaper.
A trick we use often: old wood shrinks across the grain. A round tabletop decades old becomes slightly oval; drawer bottoms leave small gaps at the edges. These imperfections are a sign of honest age, not defects.
And woodworm? Beware of fakes. Holes made with a drill bit to "give it age" are all the same diameter and perfectly vertical. Real woodworm is irregular, of different diameters, and rarely goes straight.
Differences between a vintage piece and a replica: the Wegner case and the Eames case
Two icons, two lessons.
Wegner's Wishbone chair (CH24) is betrayed by its seat. According to Carl Hansen & Søn, the original seat is hand-woven with over 120 meters of paper cord and requires more than a hundred manufacturing steps per chair; it remains taut, uniform, and only in natural, black, or white. Replicas use nylon or synthetic cord, with loose or irregular weaving, and sometimes colors that the original doesn't offer. The authentic curved backrest is a single piece of steam-bent wood, without joints, and the wood is knot-free. If you see knots or a joint in the backrest, it's a replica.
The Charles and Ray Eames Lounge Chair (670) has its own hallmarks. It is legitimately manufactured only by Herman Miller in the United States and Vitra in Europe and the Middle East. The original does not recline: it flexes. The armrests are screwed to four rubber shock mounts inside the backrest, which allow the seat to yield with body movement. The shells are made of plywood—seven layers in current production, veneered on both sides—with no visible screws in the wood. A subtle detail: Herman Miller's aluminum base has a "T" section and Vitra's has a straight section. And a wheeled base is never, ever, original.
Here it's worth talking about money, because price is the best acid test. A new, authentic CH24 starts at around €570–650 in its most economical finish (beech) and goes up to about €1,780 in walnut; a replica sells for about €100–200 per chair. A new Eames Lounge from Vitra costs between €8,760 and €11,400 for the set with ottoman, while replicas range from €250 to €1,500. And in the vintage market, a branded Danish teak sideboard usually costs several thousand euros. If the price is too good, the piece usually is too. You can see this difference in craftsmanship in real pieces when you browse our selection of designer chairs.
Common mistakes of the novice buyer (and how to avoid them)
Trusting a new coat of paint. Many flea markets repaint dressers to sell them quickly; paint covers repairs and cracks, and it doesn't always hold up to use.
Not checking the market price. Before buying, check comparable sales at auctions or specialized platforms. Just because the seller says it's "worth triple" doesn't make it true.
Trusting the words in the ad. If it says "style," "inspired by," or "replica," it's not original. Sounds obvious, but many people in a hurry fall for it.
Buying without photos of the back. When buying online, always ask for images of the bottom, the back, and the inside of the drawers. Almost all the answers are there.
Dismissing a piece just because it lacks a label. We said it before, but we insist: a piece of furniture without a stamp can be perfectly authentic if the construction supports it. The label helps; it doesn't dictate.
Authenticating furniture is not about distrusting everything. It's about learning to read. Over time, you distinguish a 1960s Danish teak sideboard with still-smooth drawer runners from a copy that imitates the silhouette but not the soul. To me, compass legs still seem the most elegant thing from that era, and recognizing them well is part of the pleasure.
If you feel like practicing your eye, take a look at our selected vintage furniture, at the dressers and sideboards that pass through our hands, or at the table lamps that light up the store. Every piece we choose has already passed this same examination.