Kudos to Amazon for its honesty, courage, and close attention to its customer's interests. Thanks to a pop-up appearing alongside these Libbey White Wine Glasses, I was surprised to see that I had previously purchased them. I was even more surprised to learn I had purchased them as recently as late December of 2017. (I commend Amazon for retaining this feature, which is not necessarily in Amazon's interests, especially when a "fair price" suddenly appears "inflated" when placed alongside the customer's invoice for the earlier purchase.) Of the 4 Libbey Classic White Wine glasses purchased a year and a half ago, only one remains. The other 3 were broken in the course of nomal use (qualifer: my norm is, as my wife has observed, unlike that of most people: while my body is washing, drying and extending the glasses toward a shelf out of her reach (and increasingly.my own), my mind is somewhere else, worlds apart--from determining the first chord of the bridge in "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" to characterizing the political stance of the Russian (Tolstoy) who condemned Dante, Shakespeare, and even Beethoven as immoral purveyors of decadent, capitalistic excess. (No, it has nothing to do with wine or alcohol. In fact, it's after I've "had a few" that I am the safest, most vigilant and alert operator of machinery or crafts, cars or dishwashers, which now receive the fully engaged, totally focused, undivided attention of my mind and body.) Accidents happen--a glass that's fractured in that fractional moment of inattentiveness--the cost of prioritizing Tolstoy over a Libbey wine glass. I sense that the thinness of the glass makes it more vulnerable to breakage than our other drinking glasses. What is a harmless, invisible, even "routine" nick to a kitchen water glass is a shard running the length of a delicately-presented wine glass. Isn't that supposed to be the case. What's "no harm, no foul" for a thick water glass is, in the case of the wine glass, "harm but no foul"--it's to be expected, so forget about it and order a replacement. On a positive note, I can attest that none of the breakages occurred while someone was drinking from the glass. Besides learning that I was breaking these at a rate of one every six months (no cause for concern let alone complaint), the comparison revealed that the price has appreciated--by approximately 10% in the past 18 months. I'll all it a reasonable hike--in line with the hot economy that has only heated up since the Trump Presidency--so not enough of a difference to affect purchase decisions. I'll confess that I liked these glasses--and went to them whenever I poured a new and unfamiliar drink, if only to display the color of a grapefruit-flavored soda more clearly. The fashion in wine glasses these days apparently caters to a mentality of "bigger is better." My wife has made me aware of the centrality of the kitchen in new homes--often the first room the guest sees (and maybe doesn't escape from). So apparently home-owners have more space than ever for their kitchen needs--from a TV set to a couple of Sonos speakers (or at least an "Echo") to wine glasses with unusually generous capacity (18 to 22 ounces and up). All the same, I think I prefer the more understated, less ostentatious "medium" size of these Libbey glasses (about 14 oz. capacity). I'll probably order another set and revaluate after 18 months. P.S. What's the difference between "white" wine glasses and "red" wine glasses (apart from the color of the liquid contents or the skin color of the imbiber)? My suspicion is that the primary meaning and function of these two signifiers is less about the consumer's practical needs than the seller's: ie., Libbey wants to be viewed as an American brand that's no less discriminating and deserving than the most exotic foreign glass companies. As I recall, the company made (maybe still makes) the little glass jars full of Gerber's baby food. By acknowledging a distinction between white wine and red wine glasses, Libbey is welcoming you to the world of adulthood--a free agent with the sophistication to make intelligent, discerning choices of your own. Speculating on wine futures and vintages can be a risky and expensive exercise in self-persuasion ("Am I tasting my money's worth in this 10-year-old Bordeau?"). If Libbey can't always make the wine a winner, their glass can insure you against a complete loss. (Even water tastes better. Perrier in cans? And we once thought the French had standards and class. Pour your canned Perrier chilled into this Libbey glass and it will taste as good as Dom Perignon--guaranteed!
