Stanley drinkware raises social class
Not long ago, I stumbled upon a massive, imposing shelf of Stanley cups sitting on what I initially thought to be a throne of lies in the middle of SCHEELS. I could see no reason to shell out $50 for what could easily be replaced with a plastic water bottle.
I skeptically turned over the 30-ounce cup in my hands, and the light from the gaping windows shone down upon me with a heavenly glow. The potential was obvious. The Stanley cup is more than a cup — it’s a lifestyle.
Imagine a summer day. Parked outside of the city’s best country club, you step out of your oversized SUV in a pair of expensive sunglasses. Your outfit is color coordinated. In one hand, you hold your gym bag and in the other, your beloved Stanley.
There are only four things on your agenda today: win a tennis match without breaking a sweat, pick up your golden doodle from the groomers, reassure your stockbroker husband that Pookie looks just fine and yell at the Starbucks barista in the drive thru for messing up your order on your way home to your gated community.
Your Stanley will fuel you through it all.
Of course, you don’t have just one cup. That would be outrageous.
When people ask, you boast that you have one in every color. No doubt, you probably have spent hundreds of dollars on the Stanley brand rather than donating the cash to a charity. You scoff at all other water bottles. Yours is obviously supreme.
The possibilities are endless when you own a Stanley cup.
No one at work will suspect you’re drinking on the job if you have a Stanley. It’s 5 o’clock somewhere, right? Not only can it hold your booze, but it can also double as a weapon, if need be. Who needs a taser when you can bop someone on the head with a hunk of lead?
Your Stanley has social power, too. The other gym goers with inferior Hydroflasks won’t lose weight as fast as you will. The other moms at the PTA meeting will want to be you — and the dads will want to date you.
Your Stanley may be heavy, and it definitely won’t fit in the cupholder of your leased vehicle, but have no fear: A carseat for your cup will do just fine. Out shopping? A cart will solve your problem. If no cart is available, I’m sure your children will be happy to carry “Mommy’s Special Cup.” A stroller is another alternative.
Stanleys can be a treat for the whole family. Your daughter will surely be crowned homecoming queen. Your husband, who will complain at first and tell his coworkers you are forcing him to haul it on his commute so he stays hydrated, will secretly love it and bask in its glory. You can’t go wrong.
Nothing can contain the prestige of the Stanley cup. Saturday Night Live has it wrong. A Stanley is no “big, dumb cup.” It’s an indicator of class and status. How could anyone possibly make fun of that?
