Kelly Bertrand asks the big question of our current zeitgeist – ‘are Stanley Cups worth it?’ without thinking that the answer might shock her. It did.
This was supposed to be a very different story.
While I’ve seen Stanley Cups in the TikToks and Reels of very small, blonde American influencers for the last year or so, for some inexplicable reason these ridiculous down-pipe sized cups have taken the world by storm lately.
Starbucks released a limited-edition version of the most popular model, the Quencher, and the result was stampedes of women around the United States, literally stomping on each other to get their hands on one.
They’re so ridiculously big Saturday Night Live dedicated an entire skit to them called Big Dumb Cups, depicting the most basic of women mocking both the Stanleys and the stereotypical ‘aesthetic girl’ – think felt fedoras, knee-high boots and puffer vests – with quips such as “it’s the cup that says I start decorating for Christmas tomorrow” and “Mm. You can really taste the bacteria”.
Big dumb cups – ARE Stanley Cups worth it?!
“Ha!” I laughed from behind my office desk, taking a dainty sip from my perfectly fine non-Stanley bottle and snorting with snooty derision. “What chumps. Why the hell would you buy such a monstrosity?”
Such was my condemnation I decided to march into the nearest mall, buy the biggest Stanley Cup I could find, use it for a week and write my own scathing take-down piece.
I thought these things were so stupid I was almost overcome with the embarrassment of buying one because they’re so ridiculous – I even lied to the lady at Stylerunner who was ringing my purchase up by telling her it was for my niece and that she was desperate to have one for her 13th birthday and even though I thought it was silly, I was going for the ‘cool aunty’ award and buying one for her anyway.
I don’t have a niece. (And I don’t think the shop assistant bought my bullshit anyway).
I’ve used it for more than a week now and it’s come time to write up the piece I intended to publish.
But damn it, this is a different story. Somehow, and just as inexplicably as the trend popping off in the first place, I’ve fallen in love with this bloody cup.
Are Stanley Cups Worth It?
While Stanley the company has been around for 110 years, their stratospheric popularity began after The New York Times profiled the brand in 2022 and #watertok was born – a bevvy of influencers encouraging followers to keep hydrating, so help you Stanley. Now, TikTok videos featuring or mentioning Stanley Cups have surpassed 201m views.
Now they’ve become a must-have item in any video posted on social media and look, compared to some of the other shit that’s trended on there (remember the Tide Pod nightmare) a reusable cup is a harmless, if not expensive, vibe ($90NZD, thank you very much).
One of my friends calls hers her ‘emotional support cup’ because it goes with her everywhere and never fails to comfort her (I’m not sure if it’s just water in there if I’m honest) while others describe it as an adult sippy cup. I don’t know why these ones are all of a sudden ‘better’ than any other bottle – I mean, think of the hold Frank Green had on us all last year?! – but so far, this year belongs to Stanley and his quencher.
But while the Stanley Cups have enjoyed a blistering moment in the sun, as with anything trending, controversy has emerged – there were allegations they contained lead (they kind of do – you’d have to damage it pretty badly for it to be an issue), that they didn’t keep liquid hot or cold, and that they leaked.
So, are Stanley Cups worth it?
Unfortunately, yes. God damn it yes, they are. I’m sitting here writing this in bed with my Stanley nestled comfortably by my side, always there, always with me. Sips of precious hydration are centimetres away and require minimal effort. The water I poured in at 10am this morning is still chilled at 7.35pm and it’s so satisfying (Stanley reckon it keeps cold drinks cold for 11 hours and hot ones hot for seven.)
In the short time Stan and I have been buds, he’s contained water, sparkling water, iced blood orange tea (highly recommend) and iced coffee (although I refused to fill it to the top a la my American contemporaries because, Jesus). He even contained a cheeky wine when I was sunbathing on the deck and yup, some nicely chilled rosé was all mine for hours.
I also don’t really want to tell you that I know this, but I can confirm that one of those small Ben and Jerry ice-cream pint thingies fits perfectly on the top (if you’re going to spend that much money on a drink bottle then hell, you need value).
So, Kelly, WHY is this big dumb cup so good? I wish I knew. Maybe it’s the straw – so much better to drink from – with the ability to pop it out and use it as a normal keep cup, AND cover the lid completely.
The handle is also weirdly useful – I have tiny, tiny hands so it’s actually much easier for me to pick up and hold and makes me feel like a cute little pixie in a giant’s kitchen cupboard.
Or perhaps it’s the consequence – man, I am HYDRATAED. I have less muggy-induced headaches. My skin is looking good. I swear I’m less hungry (although yes, loo trips have increased massively).
Stanley makes me feel better. Stanley makes me feel like, even if I’ve had a shitter of a day everywhere else, at least I’m hydrated. Yes, i might be a basic, but I’m a hydrated basic.
So, I will not be gifting on my Stanley Cup as per my original plan, he will take pride of place on my desk and on my table and yes, in my bed (apologies to my partner).
I’ve been converted. God help me.
