Every question, answered.

Hard surfaces first, if anything — the wide footprint plus the fin grip means a bumped or swept glass moves with the base or settles back instead of going straight over, on wood, laminate, glass, or a windowsill ledge.

The cold glass sweats onto the base instead of the wood, so there's no ring to treat in the first place. The base rinses clean in the sink; there's nothing to blot, bleach, or refinish.

That's the soft-surface case it was drawn for. The wide base spreads across the duvet instead of sinking a point into it, the fins grip the drink by its bottom inch, and it settles back level when the mattress re-tilts.

It takes one real cause off the table: a glass sliding or going over from a swept hand. The fins hold it by the bottom inch, so the reach that used to send water toward the hose now generally just finds the cup. It isn't a seal, so a full glass is still safer set a few inches back from the machine.

Check the bottom, not the rim: a base of 2 to 3 inches across settles in. The 40 oz Stanley fits, no number needed. Handled mugs don't — the handle sits right where a fin needs to press.

No. There's no install and no frame to measure — it sits on top of the nightstand, the shelf, or the mattress, and moves sides in one hand.

It changes the game more than it ends it. A loose glass wobbles and slides at the first pat, which is most of the appeal; gripped by the fins, it does neither. A cat on a genuine mission is still a cat on a mission.

No — that's chemistry, not placement. Water left out overnight picks up dissolved CO2 and loses its chill regardless of what it's sitting in. What the base handles is keeping the glass upright and off the wood until you get to it.

Same base, same grip — anywhere flat and hard works the way the nightstand does. The narrower the ledge, the more that matters.

Rinse it under the tap or run it through the dishwasher. It's one piece of flexible material with no seams and nothing to come apart.

The base itself is called the Steadi. Steadi Labs molds it in small runs in Orange, California — veteran-founded, patent pending — and ships every order free from steadilabs.com, with 30 days to change your mind.

Yes, though it's the snugger of the two. The 30 oz Stanley Quencher's base runs about 3.15 inches — right at the outer edge of what the fins flex to — so it seats with a firm push rather than the fuller settle a mid-range base gets. The 40 oz Quencher, at about 3.1 inches, sits just inside that and settles a little easier.

The fins grip the true base — the ring at the very bottom, not the bowl or the stem above it — which is exactly the part of a wine glass that's already unstable on its own: a narrow foot holding up a wide, top-heavy bowl. The stem doesn't change anything about the fit, since nothing about the fins cares what's happening above the base.

The 24-ounce FreeSip runs about 3.12 inches across its base — inside the fins' flex range, so it seats snugly rather than settling in loose the way a narrower bottle does. Larger FreeSip sizes run wider at the base and should be checked against that number, not the bottle's marketed capacity, before assuming the same fit.

Yes — the fins grip the base regardless of temperature or what's inside, so a steaming cup of tea holds the same way a cold glass of water does. What changes the fit is shape, not heat: a straight-sided cup in range seats fine hot or cold, while a handled mug stays the honest non-fit either way, since it's the handle getting in the fins' way, not the temperature of what's in it.

Yes. Nothing limits it to a single spot. Two sleepers can each keep one on their own nightstand or their own side of the duvet, and a sick day with water, tea, and something else on hand works the same way — one base per drink, set down wherever it lands.

It solves a specific, recognizable annoyance — the 3 a.m. reach, the side of the bed that never got a table — which tends to land better as a gift than something more general does. It ships free from Orange, California, with 30 days to send it back if it doesn't earn its spot.

A carafe set solves for having water on hand overnight and for looking the part on a nightstand; it doesn't solve for a knock. The open top has nothing to close over if it tips, and it claims a permanent piece of the nightstand's already-short real estate whether it's in use or not. This holds whatever's already in your hand — the glass, the bottle, the tumbler you actually reached for — instead of adding one more fixed vessel to keep track of.

There's nothing in it built to wear the way a spring or a clamp does — it's one piece of injection-molded material with no moving parts to fatigue. The fins hold by flexing the same motion each use rather than by tension that loosens with age; rinse it or run it through the dishwasher like a dish, and there's no separate part that can come loose or wear out.