Why this vase earns its place
Height is the number that decides whether a table vase survives. At 110 mm this one sits below the eye line of two people talking across a two-top, so nobody leans around it and nobody quietly moves it onto the windowsill. The 70 mm body leaves room for the things that have to be on the table anyway — cruets, a candle, a menu — on covers where every square centimetre is already spoken for. It takes a single stem or a couple of short ones, which is the honest scale of a vase this size and the reason it stays upright when the table gets knocked.
Green glass carries the table on its own. Filled or empty, there is colour and depth on the cover, so a room can be dressed on a Monday without a flower order landing every week — and when there is greenery to put in, the glass and the stem read as one thing rather than two. Plain is deliberate: no cut pattern or moulding to trap grease and dust, nothing to argue with a patterned cloth, and a clean tapered outline that reads as intentional against linen or bare wood.
Recycled glass brings its own character. Tone varies slightly between pieces and small bubbles sit in the wall, so a table of them looks made rather than machine-stamped, which suits a casual or rustic room better than flawless clarity would. On the practical side, nothing gets a hand and a cloth inside something 70 mm across, so cleaning means a bottle brush and a proper rinse; water marks show more readily on coloured glass than on clear, so drain and dry them at the end of service rather than stacking them wet.
