The Holmegaard vase. Although I might be mistaken, products from Holmegaard Glassworks seemed to fill up every shelf and cupboard of my childhood growing up in the southern part of Sealand during the 1970s. The beautifully crafted polar bears, the innocent girls with their small baskets and, not least, the steeping black horses seemed to grace all living rooms in Næstved and beyond with their almost-artlike aesthetics and not-so-subtle (but always failing) allusions to luxury and wealth. Everyone knew someone who worked at Holmegaard Glassworks and for a reasonable price this someone could provide everyone with almost-artlike products. And I hated every glass product that was ever made at Holmegaard Glassworks. This vase was made for and given to my father at his 30th birthday in 1977 when I was six years old. I distinctively remember the vase standing on the floor next to a peculiar bouquet with stems made of metal wires from which hang round metal balls. And I always wanted to kick the vase. Not out of anger or frustration but simply because it was really, really ugly.