I am a Stanley Quencher super fan. My friends, family, colleagues and anyone I’ve spent more than five minutes with in the few months since it made a splash in my life will have heard me talk about it. It’s my favourite topic of conversation. I like the huge capacity, always having water on hand and the ease of drinking while I’m typing at my desk.
Naturally, I was intrigued by the idea of Owala. “Better than Stanley” – it was pitched to me. Could this be true? Could anything be better than my precious lilac-hued water container?
An immediate plus point in Owala’s camp is that the bottle is leakproof. I have put this to the test and it doesn’t spill or coat my entire bag in water – unlike the Stanley where I’ll find the contents dripping down my leg when I’m out and about. This is down to the integrated straw, making it a far more practical alternative when you’re going from office to home via the gym.
Yet the Stanley is a status item, it’s designed to be held and showed off. The Owala bottle is not quite as attractive. It has a playful colourway but feels more childlike than the sleek pastel hues of its competitor.
There is not much in the capacity of the Owala I’ve been testing: 1.185L vs Stanley’s 1.2L, however, it feels heavier – something to consider when the Stanley is already cumbersome. What’s more, it doesn’t fit in a cup holder. Not so much of an issue as you can stash in a bag, but not ideal on a treadmill (I learnt the hard way).
The leakproof nature is down to a lid, sealed with a clip and opened with a button. This means it’s not ready to drink the second that thirst hits and does mean that there is the possibility of it breaking and rendering the bottle unusable – this hasn’t happened, and it does feel sturdy, but the chance is there.
For the laziest among us, you can fill the Owala without unscrewing the lid, through the chug hole. Nice and handy!
So, is all the above enough to convert a staunch Stanaholic? Well, for sheer ease in portability, since I made the switch to Owala, my Stanley hasn’t made it off my dish-drying rack. Nuff said?