The $50 Titanium Cup That Refuses to Ruin Your Whiskey

I’ve broken more shot glasses than I care to admit, and I’ve also poured a good shot of whisky into a glass that smelled faintly of dish soap because nobody thought to hand-dry it properly. That’s the quiet failure of most drinkware. It’s not that it looks bad. It’s that it gets in the way of the thing you’re actually drinking, whether through fragility, absorption, or just feeling like an afterthought grabbed from a gift-shop shelf.

The Titanium Artisan Spirits Cup solves a problem I didn’t realize I’d been quietly annoyed by for years: the vessel changing the experience instead of getting out of its way. Made in Japan from solid titanium, this tiny cup, just 70ml, about the size of a proper sake or spirits pour, is built from a material that’s completely non-reactive. No metallic aftertaste, no lingering smell from last week’s whiskey, no worry about it cracking if you set it down a little too hard after a long day. It just holds the drink and lets the drink be the drink.

Click Here to Buy Now: Starting at $50

I’ll admit I was skeptical the first time I read “titanium cup” and pictured something that belonged on a camping trip, not a bar cart. But this isn’t the same brushed, utilitarian titanium you’d find in a hiking mug. The anodized finishes here, Horizon’s pink-to-green gradient, Aurora’s iridescent blue-green, Daylight’s pale blue shimmer, are created through an electrochemical process, not paint, which means the color actually lives inside the metal’s oxide layer. Practically speaking, that means no two colored cups come out quite the same. You’re not buying a product off an assembly line so much as picking one version of a process that never repeats itself exactly. For $50 to $60 depending on finish, that’s a small price for owning something genuinely singular.

It’s worth comparing this to how a brand like Yeti has trained American drinkers to think about premium drinkware over the last decade. Yeti built an empire on durability and temperature retention, on the promise that your drink stays cold or hot for hours in something that survives getting thrown in the truck bed. That’s a real, useful problem solved well. But Yeti’s whole design language is about insulation and toughness for casual, high-volume drinking. This titanium cup is solving something almost opposite: it’s not trying to keep your drink at a certain temperature or survive a drop from a tailgate. It’s built for the smaller, slower moment, the two-ounce pour you’re meant to sit with, not gulp. One is engineered for durability at scale. The other is engineered for intimacy in a single sip.

What actually sold me on this piece isn’t the finish or the aerospace-grade pedigree of the material, though both are legitimate. It’s the size. Seventy milliliters forces a kind of restraint. You can’t casually refill it five times without noticing you’re doing it. It nudges you toward treating a pour of whiskey or sake as an event rather than background noise while you scroll through your phone. That’s a small, almost accidental piece of good design, the kind that changes behavior without lecturing you about it.

I also don’t think the Titanium Artisans Spirit Cup is for everyone, and that’s fine. If you want something that holds sixteen ounces of iced tea and survives a dishwasher cycle, this isn’t your object. But if you’ve ever wanted a single, honest vessel for the good stuff, the bottle you save for a specific mood or a specific person, this earns its place on a shelf. With only a handful available at a time, it’s also not pretending to be mass-market, which somehow makes it feel more genuine rather than more precious. Good drinkware should disappear the moment the drink hits your lips. This one actually manages that, and it does it while looking like something you’d want to hold onto forever.

The post The $50 Titanium Cup That Refuses to Ruin Your Whiskey first appeared on Yanko Design.

A Designer turned Xiaomi’s Logo into a Multi-Utility Vehicle Concept

Side profile of the Xiaomi Horizon concept MPV in blue-to-lavender paint, parked on a white platform above still water.

You know that little rounded square Xiaomi uses as its logo? The one a Japanese design legend spent actual months tuning with a math equation just to get the curve right? Lucas Angelo looked at that shape and thought, sure, why not build a car out of it. The result is the Xiaomi Horizon, and I mean that almost literally. The tailgate is one giant glowing squircle. The wheels are squircles. The whole rear end reads like someone blew up an app icon to the size of a minivan.

It sounds like a gimmick until you remember Xiaomi’s entire EV strategy is basically “make our products feel like they all came from the same brain,” and a car shaped logo is honestly not the dumbest way to pull that off. Whether it should be a Multi Purpose Vehicle or something else entirely is a separate question, and we will get to it. But credit where it is due, this thing has more brand DNA baked into its sheet metal than most concepts manage with an entire mood board of heritage references.

Designer: Lucas Angelo

Front three-quarter view of the Horizon against a tall black louvered wall, with mountains visible in the background.

Rear three-quarter view of the Horizon at dusk, showing its illuminated red squircle taillight and the Xiaomi wordmark.

That squircle obsession is not Angelo inventing a bit for fun. Back in 2021, Xiaomi hired Kenya Hara, the design legend behind MUJI’s whole visual identity, to redraw its logo. He landed on a superellipse formula, dialed to a value called n equals 3, which is the mathematically precise sweet spot between a perfect square and a perfect circle. People online mocked it as three hundred grand for rounded corners. Angelo apparently took it a lot more seriously than the internet did, because Horizon’s entire rear fascia is basically that formula rendered at automotive scale, ringed in individually lit LEDs so it glows like a screensaver whenever the car is parked.

Front three-quarter view of the Horizon showing its illuminated Cascade Grille and squircle wheel hubs.

Straight-on rear view of the Horizon on a salt-flat-like surface, with its glowing red squircle taillight centered.

The front end plays a similar game with something Xiaomi calls the Cascade Grille, a full width lattice of tiny illuminated squares that fade in a stepped pattern across the nose. It is not a functional intake so much as a light show, which tracks for a brand that made its name on phones and smart speakers before it ever touched a chassis. Xiaomi’s actual head of automotive design, Li Tianyuan, cut his teeth on the BMW iX and the i Vision Circular, a concept that turned BMW’s kidney grille into a digital display. Angelo landing in almost the same conceptual neighborhood, independently, says his instincts are pointed in a direction the real design team already validated once.

Side view of the Horizon parked in front of a spiked black wall, taillight lit, with snowy peaks behind it.

Here is where things get spicy. China’s premium electric MPV segment has a body count, and the most famous casualty is the Li Auto Mega, a smooth, curvy one box people mover that the internet immediately nicknamed the hearse. One owner slapped high speed train decals on his because the jokes wrote themselves, and Li Auto’s own design chief was still publicly defending the car more than two years later. A big blank slab of a rear end on an MPV is basically an invitation for the internet to decide what it looks like for you, and it is never flattering.

The Horizon driving down a city street past a billboard

This is exactly the trap Horizon’s illuminated tailgate sidesteps. Instead of a flat dark void back there, you get a glowing signature the size of a barn door, something to actually look at instead of squint at. Whether Xiaomi ever builds anything like this is unlikely, especially now that the real Xiaomi has already picked its answer to the family hauler question with the SkyNomad, an EREV SUV with a fridge and a bed mode rather than a sliding door MPV. But Horizon is a fun reminder that sometimes the best way to honor a brand is to take its smallest, most mocked design decision and blow it up until everyone has to take it seriously.

The post A Designer turned Xiaomi’s Logo into a Multi-Utility Vehicle Concept first appeared on Yanko Design.