It’s not a new obsession.

They have a way of multiplying because we convince ourselves we need more.  Try as we might, we just can’t shake our infatuations.

After all, they aren’t just vessels for holding and consuming liquids. They are our friends and partners, known by a variety of names:  mugs, cups, flasks, thermals, tanks, tumblers, bottles, quenchers. They are there when we need them the most; we just can’t get enough of them. 

A bit dramatic?  Given the hype we’ve seen lately around the current sweetheart of drinkware, Stanley insulated water bottles, then no.  Anything that causes people to lose their sense of logic and common sense to the point that they will wait in line then rush to spend $45 or more for something that holds water deserves the title of drama.

Our collective fascination didn’t just start yesterday.  There is a living history museum near my home and over the holidays we paid a visit. During the tour, we stepping inside the Potter’s Shed, where a period-dressed craftsman showed us how drinkware was crafted in the 1830’s. He explained how commonplace mugs were cranked out via the wheel, then spoke of how Potters would from time to time (perhaps to break the sheer boredom) get all fancy and creative and spin out some unique designs – different sizes, shapes, even something with two handles for drinking grog or ye ol’ spiced apple cider.  I gazed around this little room crowded with a myriad of tankards and steins and imagined a woman of yesteryear being presented with the gift of a special vessel that would stand out from all the other run-of-the-mill clay mugs in her small kitchen.  Yup, I know how you feel, sista.

The difference now of course is the remarkable variety available to us in any manner of shape, material, color and even intended use. Which leads us down the inevitable road of having too many – but not wanting to part with any of them – because in our minds they all have some reason for being in our collection.   As the Stanley’s of the world can tell us, the market for insulated drinkware has gone fairly haywire. At one moment or another, each type of brand has had its popular moment in the sun — or gym bag, desk, or rolling around in the back of the car.

Like many of you, I have a shelf in a cupboard dedicated to storing these handy holders – which invariably reaches a point where I can’t open the cupboard door without some falling out and hitting me in the head.  Those of you with teen or 20-something young women in the house no doubt experience the glut of containers on a whole ‘nother level.  Sure, guys use them too, but they tend to get attached to just one or two and don’t let go until they are chipped, ugly and potentially have something evil growing in them. 

Rather than strike up a conversation at a gathering about politics, it can be darn right entertaining to start talking about types and brands of travel mugs and reusable water bottles – soon the conversation and debate over the best types and brands starts to resemble celebrity name-dropping. “Oooh, you got the rose-quartz Stanley?”  “What do you mean you don’t have a Yeti, they are simply the best.”   “Check out these cool stickers I just added to my Takeya, aren’t they cute?”   Like all styles and fashions (really, we are still talking about things that hold water), brand names come and go.  Some that used to be “it” fade when a new variation shows up on the block.  My cupboard then resembles the old Filene’s basement of drinkware, with a mishmash of varieties – but each has a particular purpose in my world.  I know you know what I mean.  Let’s see… I’ve got the old Camelback that fits in my bike’s water bottle holder, and is indestructible enough to have survived several drop ‘n rolls along the road.  There are a couple Swig Life tumblers given to me by friends because they are pretty and convenient.  The Hydro Flask is my go-to for hiking.  My son gifted me my one and only Yeti – in a cool mint green — the thing weighs about 10 pounds and can keep an iced tea cold for days.  I like to use it in the summer or when I’m on a “gotta drink more water” binge.  A joe-basic Contigo is my hot tea commuter friend. There’s a Rubbermaid that goes to my gym workouts with me, and a no-name jug that I use most days going back and forth to the office because it is a great size and has daisies on it.  

I don’t think my clothes closet has such a plethora of designers and varieties.

Let’s of course not forget the addiction that started this all:  the basic ceramic mug.  Like that 1830’s potter, we have forever found comfort in that perfectly-weighted, delightfully designed basic carafe that keeps our coffee, tea, or matcha-laced-latte warm as we huddle around it.  There are even more colors, designs and varieties to these beloved cups than their travel jug cousins.  Again probably like many of you, I have a separate cupboard shelf for mugs, and I get emotionally attached to each one for different reasons.  Mugs are a universally-acceptable-and-appreciated gift.  Most of my collection was gifted to me. So not only do I like them for their size, their shape, their heft, their design or witty phrase (I have several that state something about being a dog mom), each one means something because I remember the person who gave it to me.  For whatever reason, that person selected that particular mug because it made them think of me.  How can I then cast it into a donation bin?  I tend to rotate my collection, as I have holiday and seasonal mugs.  I just recently stowed away my candy-cane striped cups and brought out my spring flowers ‘n bunnies selections. Oh, come on, don’t roll those eyes; I know some of you have mugs you only use on certain days. Sure hope your Monday mug is clean and ready.

Mugs, unlike the insulated water bottles, are where the division between his & hers tends to be more pronounced.  My husband has his mugs that not only feel larger and heavier and more comfortable to fit his hands around the handles, but are emblazoned with designs about Corvettes and Star Trek. Rarely do we use each other’s mugs – it’s just an unwritten rule, like never using each other’s toothbrush.  However, my husband is the first to declare that “we have too many, we need to clean these out again.”  Which of course means get rid of some of mine.  He is not wrong, we have far too many for the number of inhabitants in the house, nor the number of friends who may visit and need a mug for morning coffee.  I even have old mugs that never make it into regular rotation, like one with a group photo of friends that was taken 20+ years ago.  I try to hide those we don’t use so he doesn’t notice them.  But I know he has a hunch.  While holiday shopping this year, I happened to pause in front of a row of mugs in a store, and as I reached out to pick one up (just to look at, honest!), his knee-jerk reaction was a swift “NO!  No mugs!”  It became our mantra of the season.

I suppose as obsessions go, while a bit cluttery, our desire for more liquid-carrying vessels is pretty harmless. In our crazy, busy, scary world, it’s nice to know that we can count on these helpful, quiet, loyal friends when we need them.  There is definitely comfort and a bit of happiness to be found in drinking from an icy cold funky-looking water bottle on a hot summer day, pouring a jolt of liquid caffeine into your favorite to-go thermal, or cuddling up on a cold winter’s day with a mug full of decadent cocoa. 

That said, let’s talk about that chipped, stained, faded oldie in the back of your cupboard.  It may be time to let ‘er go.  Don’t be sad. You know there are a whole lot more just waiting to be discovered and brought home.