When Ross Cowie goes on holiday, alongside the suncream and flip flops, he’ll always pack one of his favourite mugs. Careful not to leave any of them out of the international travel experience, he’ll take a different one each time. “They’re like little babies to me, so it’s like picking a favourite child,” he says. “You’d be surprised how many people pack a mug.”
For many of us, the vessel from which we take our morning brew is the first and most important decision of the day. It’s a uniquely British obsession. We have cupboards crammed with too many cups; the favourite ones, the gifted ones, the chipped ones, the outdoor ones. But please God, no, not that one. Not the massive Sports Direct one. The wrong mug can affect your mood for hours. How to describe the hurt you feel when a chipped mug containing the wrong-coloured tea lands on your desk at work or – gulp – one that is black inside? And what kind of a monster electively drinks from a corporate mug?
