I don't have a lot of possessions. I seem to prefer keeping just one type of any thing. I'm not the kind of person to have a handful of frying pans, instead, if I don't use it regularly, it gets donated.The middle draw in my kitchen, usually home to as many gadgets as you can fit, is slimmed right down - I have tongs, 1 serving spoon, vegetable peeler, knife sharpener, and a few other common tools. The garlic press is gone.. since I discovered how to press garlic using the flat edge of my chefs knife, it had no further use to me and that realestate is reclaimed.
That's the way I feel about my teapot. I could easily have a collection of tea pots, and that is something I may do, but I'd always gravitate to the favorite, so the collection would be just that, a collection, for the sake of collecting. So my teapot needs to be reliable and robust, happy to be loaded into the dishwasher, able to withstand my sometimes clumsy behaviour, and be pleasing to look at, all the while not claiming more space than it requires. Owing to its tall square design, it doesn't have any bulbous sides that infringes on space that it doesn't absolutely need. It has a lid and strainer made of stainless steel, so it will both look like new and perform like new for as long as I own it. the handle feels perfect, I don't feel like my hand is a second consideration to design or art. The tall profile has an added benefit in that the tea leaves are suspended from the brewed tea the moment you pour your first cup - I don't know if they thought of all these things in designing the Zero Japan, but I like to think they did, and they probably did!
It all makes sense when you read their philosophy as being;