Theres not really much you can say about crockery. It has a handle, and it stops your tea from sploshing all over your lap. It isn’t really very exciting, or much likely to get you respect down the local pub.

Unless you’re packing The Mug! (From now on my grammar will get all squiffy because you can’t write The Mug! without the ‘!’. It’s, like, a rule). The good people at Thabto let me get my unworthy female hands on what is truly the most masculine mug I’ve ever seen. Honestly, if it had any more testosterone, I’d have a moustache by now.