We independently review everything we recommend. When you buy through our links, we may earn a commission. Learn more

Bedtime routines and rituals are unique to each of us, and the items we keep on our nightstands are a reflection of that. Even for partners in a bedroom, two matching tables can have wildly different vibes. The things we use to get a good night’s sleep, the comforts we keep close by, the books we read in the waning hours of the day—all of these offer a glimpse into life at its sleepiest. Here’s a peek at what some of our own staffers keep on their nightstands.

Gteetoo Rechargeable Touch-Sensor Table Lamp (about $40 at the time of publication)

Blistex Medicated Lip Balm SPF 15  (about $5 for a three-pack at the time of publication)

My husband and I each have the same Modway nightstand, topped with a wooden tissue box and a rechargeable touch-sensor table lamp. The lamps have been a surprise favorite among the random small purchases we made when we moved in. They’re bright—but not glaring—and they make our frequent rural power outages feel more civilized because they can run on battery power. The top of my table, though, often looks like a drug-store beauty aisle compared with my husband’s. Mine is littered with stray bobby pins, hair ties, and half-empty tubes of Blistex, Carmex, or ChapStick, which I pile up for winter nights, when I wake up frequently to soothe my dry lips. (I opt for cheap tubes in bulk because I’m constantly misplacing them.) There’s always a stack of books—currently Long Bright River, Beartown, and an old discarded library copy of Beth Chatto’s The Damp Garden—and usually a stray treasure that my daughter has left behind.

—Jackie Reeve, senior staff writer

Mack’s Slim Fit Soft Foam Earplugs (about $10 for 50 pairs at the time of publication)

On top of my small nightstand there’s space for just a few things: the books I’m reading, a large, bright lamp, and a container of my most trusted sleep aid: earplugs. Since I’m a light sleeper, factors like a snoring husband, a neighbor dog prone to random bouts of late-night barking, and a distant Amtrak route can conspire to ensure I don’t fall into a deep, restful sleep at night. I’ve been using Mack’s SlimFit Soft Foam Earplugs—our longtime pick for earplugs for sleeping—for many years now. They fit into my smaller ear canals, and—crucially—they block enough noise to let me fall asleep. But they aren’t so tightly sealed that I can’t still hear the important audible alerts, such as my alarm clock or a smoke detector.

Tamara Shopsin’s 5 Year Diary (about $20 at the time of publication)

I keep a motley assortment of items (knitting projects, earplugs, my favorite body oil) hidden away in the deep drawers of my nightstand. The top is reserved for a stack of (too many!) partially and totally unread issues of The New Yorker (and other magazines), whatever library book I’m working my way through, and a compact five-year diary. In the diary, each calendar day gets one page, with five entries per page, and you designate the year for the entry. The diary is lasting me much longer than five years because I’m not the most consistent diarist. But the constraints of those short entries have encouraged me to keep up the habit, even if it’s not very habitual. I use the diary primarily to record stuff about my kids, but it would be a nice place to recount dreams or jot down those ideas or thoughts that keep you up at night.

BatelierHandicraft Apple Watch Dock Wall Charging Station (about $45 at the time of publication)

ShopAaware MS2 Wall Mounted MagSafe iPhone Dock ($20 at the time of publication)

IKEA Symfonisk Speaker Lamp ($190 at the time of publication)

I primarily read on my iPad mini, which charges on my nightstand. (I’m currently reading Children of Ash and Elm: A History of the Vikings.) And I keep my headphones there so I can quietly listen to TV shows or movies. I also have charging stands for several devices—a phone, headphones, and a watch (these are not technically on my nightstand, so they allow more surface area there and keep the devices away from my toddler’s little hands). Finally, my lamp, the previous version of the IKEA Symfonisk lamp, doubles as a Sonos speaker for softly playing music when I’m lying down.

—Erik Erickson, director of platform engineering

Basic Organics L-Lysine Ointment (about $14 for a two-pack at the time of publication)

Marpac Yogasleep Whish White Noise Machine ($40 at the time of publication)

Blank Canvas by Potter Triangle Bookstand ($40 at the time of publication)

Philips SmartSleep Wake-Up Light ($100 at the time of publication)

Because I’m someone who can’t sleep at night and can’t wake in the morning, my nightstand has what I need to make my nights and mornings flow smoothly. Before bed, I apply Basic Organics L-Lysine Ointment to my lips; it has no flavor or taste and is the only ointment that keeps my lips from being dry in the mornings. To help clear my mind before bed, I turn on Marpac’s Yogasleep Whish White Noise Machine (a variant of our pick) and grab whatever book I’m currently reading from this Triangle Bookstand (which also has an area to store my glasses). On really sleepless nights, I read with the Vont Book Light, which uses a warm white light that doesn’t strain my eyes or wake my partner. I charge my phone on a RAVPower Turbo 10W Max Wireless Charger and keep tea or water on these marble and wood coasters. To help me wake peacefully in the mornings, I use the Philips SmartSleep Wake-Up Light, from our sunrise alarm clock guide. One of the most treasured pieces on my nightstand: a Jurassic Park music box, which has no purpose other than making me happy.

A Few Flies and I: Haiku by Issa ($16 at the time of publication)

Books mostly come and go from my bedside, but not my books of Japanese-language poetry. They’re permanent companions. The poems vary in style but tend to be short, and reading a few of them helps me drift off at night. Many of them closely observe the beauty or harshness of the natural world (the glint of a dragonfly, the lashing of a storm), and these types of haiku in particular transport me outside my four walls, which have become all too familiar during the pandemic. I especially love Kobayashi Issa’s haiku. He’s the earthiest of “the Great Four” haiku poets (the other three are Basho, Buson, and Shiki). Issa’s haiku are more empathetic toward nature’s unloved and harried creatures—“For you fleas too, the night must be lonely, it must be long”—and more sardonic about humanity’s trials and tragedies. If you want to get into haiku, the book that translation is from, A Few Flies and I, is a good place to start, as is Japanese Haiku (from the Peter Pauper Press), with its 330 poems by the Great Four and others. Many of the books I keep on my nightstand are out of print but easy to find online at used-book sellers. And they’re usually beautifully illustrated, too.

—Tim Heffernan, senior staff writer

Black Diamond Spot 350 ($40 at the time of publication)

Having made two big moves in the past couple of years, my entire bedroom is once again a work in progress. I’m still shopping for a bed frame and, thanks to Wirecutter’s recent wallpaper guide, dreaming of an accent wall. Once I check those off my decorating to-do list, I’ll eventually buy myself a sleek new bedside lamp. For now, I rely on Wirecutter’s top-pick headlamp, the Black Diamond Spot, to read myself to sleep most nights. I’m just about always the last one to bed, and the Spot’s bright but focused beam lets me disappear into a book without straining my eyes—and without waking my husband. The tooth fairy finds it useful, too.

Old Whaling Co. Coconut Milk Body Butter ($14 for 8 ounces at the time of publication)

DW Home Lavender Sea Salt Candle ($20 for a 16.4-ounce candle at the time of publication)

Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity, and Change by Maggie Smith (about $14 at the time of publication)

At any given moment, my nightstand may be littered with various phones, cables, glasses (of both the drinking and reading varieties), and often a heated neck wrap (usually homemade). But three items have taken up permanent residence. The first is a jar of Old Whaling Co. Coconut Milk Body Butter, which I originally received as part of a holiday gift box and instantly fell in love with. This thick cream feels more luxurious than the everyday hand lotion that sits by the bathroom sink, but it absorbs quickly and leaves my hands and feet silky smooth without feeling overly greasy. Some of the scents can be a bit overwhelming, so you might try this travel-size multipack of assorted scents before committing to a full 8-ounce jar. The second item is a scented candle to further aid in my evening relaxation ritual, usually in a lavender or gardenia scent. And finally, there’s always a book. It’s often something in the sci-fi/fantasy genre, but I’m starting the year with something a bit more contemplative: Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity and Change by poet Maggie Smith.

1FineTurn Pet Urns (price varies)

Everyone grieves in their own way. Mine involves keeping the ashes of my beloved Devon Rex cat, Ollie, next to me on my nightstand. I know it may sound morbid to some, but Ollie saw me through some of the most difficult periods of my life, and having a bit of what used to be him nearby keeps me centered, serving as a nightly reminder that I can handle anything life throws my way. I found this small, hand-turned red oak urn (currently sold out) on craftsman Brian Guhrman’s Etsy shop, 1FineTurn. All of his receptacles are lovely and unique, but he also takes custom requests. If you like the shape of mine, it’s worth asking for something similar. I chose this style because it reminds me of something one might see in a Hayao Miyazaki film—precisely the kind of fantastical world I always hope to find in dreams while adventuring once more with my wise little soulmate.

Bamboo Takefumi ($30 at the time of publication)

3rd Ritual Acupressure Polygon ($16 at the time of publication)

Tune Up Fitness Yoga Tune Up Therapy Balls (about $19 for a pair at the time of publication)

Pampshade Croissant Japanese Bread Lamp (about $90 at the time of publication)

I’m great at anxiety and insomnia, so my bedside is all about intercepting those tendencies. I love my bamboo takefumi, a traditional Japanese foot massager, which I stand on in a forward fold to open my legs, back, and arches before I get in bed. That immediately deepens my breathing and gets me ready for sleep. In a small bin, I keep some simple tools for tension release, like yoga balls, an acupressure polygon, and Maude’s Drop massager. Sometimes I just lie on my back with a ball under a muscle knot and read (or watch Buffy on my iPad, oops). My emotional support books change with my mood. But I always prop my croissant-shaped lamp on my chest as a reading light, since it emits a warm glow instead of the bright, stimulating light of some book lamps. And for later, when I inevitably wake at 4 a.m., having a few other things within reach helps me hang onto that sleepy feeling: a notebook open to a blank page for oh-so-urgent thoughts, a supple silk eye mask (which I think of as my slightly naggy “go back to bed” mask), a non-ticking travel clock (so I don’t check my phone), and a Kinto water bottle (which won’t spill when I sleepily knock it over).

This article was edited by Daniela Gorny and Christine Ryan.

Jackie Reeve is a senior staff writer covering bedding, organization, and home goods at Wirecutter since 2015. Previously she was a school librarian, and she’s been a quilter for about 15 years. Her quilt patterns and her other written work have appeared in various publications. She moderates Wirecutter’s staff book club and makes her bed every morning.

by Joanne Chen and Justin Redman

You can send us a note too.

© 2022 Wirecutter, Inc., A New York Times Company