The Oyster range grouped on linen beside a single poppy in a vase

New — a full set

Oyster, all of it

The whole Oyster range — dinner and side plates, bowls, cups — now offered together.

Until now the Oyster pieces went out one at a time — a plate here, a pair of cups there. From this season the full range is offered as a single set: two dinner plates, two side plates, two bowls and two cups, glazed over every surface in the satin grey that gives the collection its name.

It is the same ware out of the same kiln, only gathered. A whole table in one box, for the people who were quietly buying it a piece at a time anyway.

Sets are made to order against each firing. When a firing closes, the next set waits on the next kiln.

We priced it as a set rather than the sum of its parts, because a table is a thing you buy once and keep, not a subscription. Two dinner plates, two of everything: enough for the two of you, or for you and whoever turns up.

If you already own a few Oyster pieces, the set still makes sense — the satin grey is glazed to the same recipe every firing, so the new plates sit beside the old ones without a seam. That consistency is the one place we do chase evenness.

A set also settles an argument the single pieces cannot quite make: that these forms were drawn to sit together. The dinner plate answers the side plate, the cup echoes the bowl, and lined up along a shelf they read as one hand at work rather than a row of near-matches gathered by chance.

We box it plainly — straw, a stamped card, nothing that outlives the unpacking. The ware is the thing worth keeping; the packaging is only how it survives the post, and a set that arrives dressed like a gift it is not would be starting on a false note.