Analyzing Ceramics from a Feminist Perspective on Design and Utility

Ceramic dinnerware looks so innocent on the table. A soft pink mug, a minimalist stoneware bowl, a candy-gloss platter that glows under brunch light. Yet every piece carries a quiet archive of who made it, who was credited, whose body it serves, and whose time it consumes in the kitchen sink afterward. When you start looking at your tabletop through a feminist lens, the story of “just plates” gets a lot more interesting.

Art historians, archaeologists, and ceramic artists have spent decades unpacking that story. Moira Vincentelli’s book Women and Ceramics: Gendered Vessels (reviewed in Ceramics in America by the Chipstone Foundation) argues that women have long been primary producers and consumers of ceramics, even as their contributions were written out of design history. A ResearchGate study on Ghanaian pottery shows women likely among the earliest makers of clay objects, yet their labor is still undercounted in formal economies. A blog from LaGavi traces how industrial pottery factories in Europe institutionalized male control while women’s work was dismissed as “hobby” or auxiliary.

At the same time, contemporary makers are turning clay into an unapologetically feminist medium. The Kentucky Folklife Digital Magazine profiles Laura Beth Fox‑Ezell, who throws utilitarian feminist ceramics for everyday use. A Forbes profile of artist Jen Dwyer explores pastel pregnancy-test pipes and body-positive incense burners that went viral precisely because they treated taboo topics with humor and tenderness. Together with scholarship and industry research from brands like Joyye, Lenox, HF Coors, and others, these perspectives give us a rich toolkit for rethinking dinnerware design and utility through feminism.

In this article, we will move through three layers: a short history of women, clay, and power; how design decisions encode feminist or patriarchal values; and how to shop, style, and care for ceramics in ways that honor both aesthetics and the people behind (and using) the pieces.

What a Feminist Lens on Ceramics Actually Looks Like

A feminist approach to ceramics is not just about putting a slogan on a mug. It is about asking whose labor, bodies, and stories are centered or erased in the entire life cycle of a piece of tableware: from mining clay and mixing glaze, to who can afford it, to who washes it after dinner.

The Ghanaian study on “Feminism as a Model in Pottery” notes that women make up about 51.4% of Ghana’s population and are heavily present in petty trading, craftwork, and farming, yet much of their work is unpaid or informal and therefore invisible in economic statistics. In many African regions, older women historically dominated indigenous pottery production. Archaeological and gender-studies research suggests women may have been the first makers of clay objects, closely associating pottery’s origins with women’s labor and knowledge.

Feminist aesthetics builds on that reality. It asks how objects can counter male-dominated viewpoints, link design to women’s lived experiences, and recognize a “female aesthetic” that shifts as women’s social conditions change. Vincentelli, drawing on thinkers like Foucault, Bourdieu, and French feminist theory, proposes ceramics made and used by women as a kind of visual écriture féminine—a material “feminine writing” that expresses embodied, pre-verbal experience. She highlights techniques such as coiling and burnishing, and cases where figurines exploring female sexuality replace the male gaze with a female one.

Archaeologist Rita P. Wright’s review of Vincentelli’s work is a crucial corrective. She praises the wealth of case studies but warns that broad claims about “women’s ceramic traditions” can slide into essentialism, as if certain techniques are naturally, eternally feminine. Feminist archaeologists have shown that who makes pottery, and how, depends on specific cultures and time periods rather than universal female psychology. So a feminist lens should remain context-sensitive: open to patterns, but skeptical of “always” and “never.”

For our tabletops, that means we can read design through gender and power, but we must keep nuance. A coiled bowl is not automatically feminist, and a porcelain coupe plate is not automatically patriarchal. What matters is who designed it, how it was produced, whose needs it prioritizes, and what stories it invites to the table.

Clay, Gender, and Power: A Short History

From Ancient Hearths to Industrial Factories

Long before industrial kilns and restaurant supply catalogs, clay was a domestic lifeline. The Ghanaian research emphasizes that pottery is one of the oldest human crafts, rooted in transforming earth by fire. In many African communities, women—especially older women—have historically led this work, shaping cooking pots and storage jars that literally held family survival. Yet much of that labor remains under-documented because it happens in family compounds and informal markets rather than in salaried factories.

The LaGavi essay “The Saga of Women in Pottery and Ceramics” shows a similar pattern in Europe but with a harsher institutional twist. By the mid eighteenth century and into the age of major European porcelain factories, production structures were designed and controlled by men. Women were present as makers, printers, and assistants, but usually in lower-status, lower-paid roles. Industrialization often used women as a “reserve army of labor”—pulled in when needed, then pushed out or denied stable recognition. The potter’s wheel became a symbol of the male studio potter, while women were more often depicted as decorative subjects, patrons, or fertility symbols rather than credited makers.

For wealthy women, ceramics was reframed as an acceptable leisure “hobby,” while men’s pottery was seen as professional, collectible art. That split continues to echo in how we value “studio pottery” versus “craft” and in how easily women’s work slips into the anonymous category of “decorative.”

Gendered Vessels and Explicit Feminist Ceramics

Vincentelli’s Women and Ceramics: Gendered Vessels tries to pull women back to the center of this history. Using archaeological, ethnographic, and contemporary case studies, she documents women as potters, factory workers, cooperative members, business owners, collectors, writers, and teachers. She pays special attention to technical choices that, in her view, create a tactile, intimate relationship between women’s bodies and clay.

Her discussion of Magdalene Odundo is a vivid example. Odundo’s vessels reference bodies, nipples, gourds, and stamens; they are meticulously burnished, with a soft sheen that “speaks the loving attention” given to them. Vincentelli reads this as a gendered embrace of practices that keep the hand close to the material and foreground sensuous surfaces.

She then looks at figurative ceramics where women explore female sexuality and symbolism. Because these works embed a female gaze and female sexual imagery directly into ceramic practice, they can unsettle critics and destabilize patriarchal visual orders. That is an important insight and resonates with the work of contemporary feminist artists.

At the same time, Wright points out that Vincentelli sometimes leans too hard on essentialist claims, such as suggesting that hand building and burnishing are predominantly women’s techniques across cultures. Feminist archaeologists have cautioned against tying specific techniques to universal female traits. Context matters: in some societies, men coil pots; in others, women run large-scale kilns. A feminist reading must stay grounded in specific histories rather than biology.

Fast-forward to now, and we see feminist ceramics becoming more explicit and playful. The LaGavi article highlights a “New Female era” in which women such as Susan Halls and Liza Lou push the boundaries of what clay can do, while also gaining recognition as central figures rather than supporting characters. The Forbes profile of Jen Dwyer shows how a clay pipe shaped like a pastel pregnancy test or a peachy incense burner can become both an art object and a viral conversation about the female body, reproduction, and pleasure.

Dwyer’s work is deeply influenced by rococo interiors and Versailles-style ornament, a historical language of luxury and domestic display in which women were tastemakers but rarely credited designers. Her graduate research blends studio practice with gender studies, asking who gets to define “good taste” and whose aesthetics get written into the canon. That is feminist design analysis in action, and it filters down to our dinner tables whether we realize it or not.

Fox‑Ezell’s feminist pottery, by contrast, is explicitly utilitarian: wheel‑thrown mugs and bowls meant to be used daily. The Kentucky Folklife Digital Magazine locates her work in a specific rural Kentucky context, reminding us that feminist ceramics can look like a dishwasher-safe morning mug, not just a gallery sculpture.

Design as Feminist Language: Form, Surface, and Story

Technique and Touch

When you pick up a plate, you are also picking up a lineage of technique. Vincentelli emphasizes that many contemporary women potters choose methods that keep their bodies in intimate contact with clay—hand building, coiling, meticulous polishing with stones passed from mother to daughter. She describes coiling as a rhythmic, time-intensive activity that is pleasurable in itself, not just a means to an end.

Even if we accept Wright’s warning against universalizing these choices, the connection between touch and meaning is worth sitting with. A hand-built stoneware bowl with visible coil lines and a slightly irregular rim invites you to trace its history with your fingertips. A wheel-thrown cup that still shows faint throwing rings holds a record of the maker’s hands, turn by turn.

Industrial production changes that relationship. Articles from Euro Ceramica, MDMaison, and others describe how precise molds, controlled kiln profiles, and automated glazes create lightweight, consistent, chip-resistant pieces that are easy to stack and store. That can be a feminist gain when it reduces physical strain, breakage, and replacement costs for whoever is doing the dishes. But it can also erase individual makers and flatten the tactile experience.

From a feminist perspective, the key question is not “handmade good, factory bad.” It is: whose needs are prioritized by the chosen technique? If a plate is so heavy that carrying a stack of six strains your wrists, that is a design decision with gendered implications in households where women still do most of the clearing and washing. If a factory piece uses safer glazes, better thermal stability, and long-lasting decoration, that can be an everyday win for health and workload.

Bodies, Motifs, and the Domestic Sphere

Clay has long been linked to the body. The Ghanaian paper associates feminism in pottery with nature, earth, domesticity, and the home, precisely because those domains have historically been feminized. Vincentelli’s analysis of Odundo’s body-referencing vessels and her discussion of figurines that foreground female sexuality show how ceramics can reclaim that symbolism on women’s terms.

Dwyer’s pregnancy-test pipes and peach-like incense burners push that reclaiming into pop-cultural space. Covered by outlets like Newsweek and The Guardian, these objects use humor, pastel color, and decorative charm to talk about sex, reproduction, and anxiety in ways that feel tender rather than shaming. They are literally handled by the mouth and hands, embedding feminist discourse into everyday rituals of smoking or scent.

Fox‑Ezell’s focus on utilitarian feminist ceramics reminds us that imagery is not the only carrier of meaning. A mug with a handle sized comfortably for smaller hands, a plate whose rim keeps sauces from spilling for a multitasking parent, or a bowl that stacks efficiently in a small apartment kitchen can all embody care. When feminist artists and designers integrate that kind of embodied empathy into form, they are intervening in the domestic sphere that has historically been undervalued precisely because it is feminized.

Color, Glaze, and Algorithmic Aesthetics

Surface is where ceramics flirt with us. ADORNO DESIGN’s editorial on candy-inspired ceramics talks about Halloween pieces in glossy glass, resin, and ceramic that look like hard candy: bright, shiny, playful. Joyye’s collections of reactive glazes, crackled finishes, and whimsical motifs (pumpkins, mushrooms, embossed Christmas patterns) show how color and texture can turn a plate into functional art. The Decor Kart’s floral dinner plates and modern minimalist bowls lean into rich palettes, high-quality stoneware, and hand-painted details to frame food as a little celebration.

Color politics are feminist politics, too. Pastels and florals have been coded as “girly” and trivial; embracing them unapologetically can be a way of refusing those hierarchies. Conversely, the surge of black ceramic plates and deep indigo glazes in modern collections, documented by Joyye and others, shows how moody, traditionally “serious” palettes are now being claimed for everyday home tables, not just formal restaurants.

On top of that, algorithmic aesthetics is reshaping what ends up on our plates. Malacasa’s exploration of AI in ceramics outlines how generative image models now drive digital surface printing, from photorealistic florals to parametric patterns. Companies like Sicer have developed water-based inks that eliminate volatile organic compounds and ECO solvent inks that cut emissions dramatically compared with older chemistries. There are even Nature-published studies fine-tuning diffusion models to reconstruct historic blue-and-white porcelain layouts, offering tools for heritage restoration and archive-inspired remixes.

From a feminist angle, this is both exciting and fraught. On the plus side, AI can democratize access to pattern design, reduce toxic emissions in digital printing, and offer more flexible small-batch customization—things that can benefit small studios, including women-led ones. On the minus side, Malacasa and others warn about homogenization and the risk of training models on unlicensed community motifs, including those of marginalized groups. When algorithmically generated plates circulate without credit or consent, they repeat long histories of extracting from women’s and Indigenous visual cultures without recognition.

A feminist approach to AI-decorated ceramics means asking who authored the prompts and datasets, whether motifs were licensed or community-approved, and how human touch remains visible in the final object. That could be as simple as pairing an AI-printed plate with a hand-thrown bowl, or as complex as brands publishing clear statements about their data sources and environmental practices.

Utility, Safety, and Care Through a Feminist Lens

Beautiful plates are not feminist if they quietly poison, exhaust, or financially drain the people using them. Utility and safety are not boring technicalities; they are core ethics.

Materials and Everyday Labor

Different ceramic bodies carry different trade-offs. MDMaison and Lenox describe porcelain as a high-fired, dense, non-porous material that is thin yet strong. It resists moisture, odors, and staining, and most contemporary lines are dishwasher and microwave safe (as long as you avoid metallic trims). Bone china, a blend that includes bone ash, is even more luminous and often surprisingly strong despite its delicate feel; it has an almost weightless presence that many people love for both special occasions and daily use.

Stoneware is thicker and heavier, with a rustic charm and excellent durability. Brands like Euro Ceramica and HF Coors highlight its ability to handle frequent meals, dishwashers, and even ovens. HF Coors, for example, vitrifies its clay for hardness, keeps pieces lead-free and non-porous, and backs them with a two-year chip guarantee—all practical considerations for a busy kitchen where dropping a plate is always a risk.

Earthenware, by contrast, is more porous and fired at lower temperatures. It is less durable than stoneware or porcelain but offers rich color and a cozy, hand-touched aesthetic that appeals to certain markets. Joyye’s sourcing guide notes that earthenware is growing quickly in market share, fueled by demand for artisanal and rustic looks.

Joyye’s market analysis projects the global ceramic tableware segment to reach roughly $26.13 billion by 2030, with porcelain occupying about 58.50% of that space and earthenware growing at around 9.40% annually. That scale explains why mass-market trends—toward thicker rustic stoneware or ultra-thin porcelain—shape what most of us see on store shelves.

From a feminist utility standpoint, the question is: how do those material choices land in real bodies and homes? Heavy rustic plates may embody comforting solidity but can be tiring to carry and wash, especially in stacks. Ultra-thin porcelain feels gentle on wrists but can demand more careful handling and higher upfront cost. A mix is often ideal: perhaps sturdy stoneware serving pieces combined with lighter porcelain or bone china for individual place settings, calibrated to the people actually using them.

Here is a compact way to think about it:

Safety, Standards, and Invisible Hazards

The glamorous part of dinnerware marketing rarely mentions heavy metals, but feminist analysis insists on it. LuxuryBoneChina and Solecasa both emphasize that lead and cadmium release from glazes is a critical health index. Poor raw materials, low firing temperatures, or sloppy process control can cause excessive leaching, raising the risk of chronic poisoning over time.

Multiple jurisdictions have strict limits. International standards such as ISO 6486, European regulations, and U.S. Food and Drug Administration guidelines all set maximum lead and cadmium migration levels for food-contact ceramics. Solecasa notes that market surveillance in 2023 found about 38% of tested ceramic dinnerware samples failing requirements due to excessive heavy metal release. That is not a statistic any host wants to ignore.

In the United States, FDA rules focus on controlling leaching levels and ensuring manufacturers use approved materials with good manufacturing practices. In the European Union and Germany, LFGB-based regulations add a “positive list” approach that allows only specified raw materials and includes sensory tests to check that ceramics do not impart strange odors or tastes. Decorations within about two centimeters of the rim get special scrutiny because they are more likely to contact lips and food.

For everyday buyers, you do not need to memorize every regulation number, but you can absolutely ask questions. Vancasso’s guide to valuing ceramic tableware suggests looking for clear “lead-free,” “food-safe,” or “tested to FDA/LFGB” language from reputable makers. Yongjian and DHgate’s expert tips recommend inspecting glazes for smoothness, checking for bubbles, pinholes, or raw unglazed patches on the base, and being wary of very cheap, heavily decorated pieces with no safety information.

Microwave and dishwasher behavior is another hidden safety dimension. Articles from JQY, MDMaison, Lenox, and others make the same points: many modern ceramic plates are microwave safe, but metallic or gold trims should never go in the microwave; repeated dishwasher cycles can wear low-fire overglaze decoration; and very thin glazes can crack under rapid temperature swings. Yongjian points out that a low water absorption rate—ideally at or below about 0.5% for high-end porcelain—helps prevent odor buildup and bacterial growth inside the ceramic body.

Safety is feminist because exposure to heavy metals, cracked glazes, and slippery, poorly designed forms often falls hardest on families and caregivers who spend the most time handling dishes. Choosing compliant, well-fired, thoughtfully tested pieces is a way of protecting those bodies.

Durability, Trade Value, and the Life Cycle of a Plate

Durability is not just about avoiding the heartbreak of a shattered mug. It is about cost over time, waste, and the psychological relief of not having to baby every plate. Lenox’s durable-dinnerware guide defines durability as resistance to chips, cracks, scratches, and repeated dishwasher or microwave use. Melamine and Vitrelle glass show up as extreme ends of that spectrum: one virtually unbreakable but not microwave-safe, the other layered glass that is extremely chip- and crack-resistant yet light.

Vancasso’s valuation guide adds an important angle: the condition of a piece—mint, excellent, good, fair, or project—strongly determines its trade or resale value. It also highlights subtle issues like metal marking, those gray lines left by cutlery on glazes with certain crystalline structures. Under angled daylight, such marks can reveal how a glaze will age. A resonant “ring test” suggests a dense, well-fired body; a dull thud might indicate microcracks.

From a feminist, sustainability-minded point of view, investing in truly durable pieces that stay beautiful in “good” or “excellent” condition for years is preferable to replacing chipped, crazed ware every season. It reduces the mental load of constant shopping and re-matching, cuts down on landfill waste, and respects the energy and labor embedded in each plate.

At the same time, Vancasso recommends treating cracked or heavily crazed items as decorative only, not for food use, because microcracks can harbor bacteria and, in older pieces, may coincide with higher heavy-metal leaching. That is especially important when reusing vintage plates that lack clear safety markings.

Bringing Feminist Ceramics Onto Your Table

How to Shop with a Feminist Compass

Shopping through a feminist lens starts with three simple questions: who made this, how was it made, and how will it live in my home?

Who made this connects directly to the historical erasures described by LaGavi, the Ghanaian research, and Vincentelli. Supporting potters and brands that explicitly credit women and community artisans is one way to correct the record. That might mean choosing dinnerware from a woman-led studio, buying from a collective where older women potters are partners rather than anonymous labor, or seeking out artists like Jen Dwyer or Laura Beth Fox‑Ezell whose work explicitly engages feminist themes. It can equally mean choosing mainstream brands that invest in women designers and treat factory workers fairly, even if the marketing is not overtly feminist.

How it was made includes both technique and ethics. Malacasa’s AI overview suggests asking who authored the design and whether AI was used. If AI is involved, a feminist buyer can look for brands that clearly state their datasets rely on licensed or consented imagery and that preserve human authorship and finishing. Questions about inks—whether they are low-emission, water-based, or ECO formulations—and about environmental management systems like ISO 14001 reflect a broader ethic of care for workers and the planet.

Safety and compliance questions are fair game, too. Solecasa and Yongjian both treat FDA and LFGB compliance as basic qualifications. For everyday tableware, it is reasonable to ask customer service or read product descriptions carefully: is the glaze lead-free and cadmium-safe? Has the line been tested to relevant food-contact standards? Are there clear statements about microwave and dishwasher safety, especially if metallic decoration is involved?

Finally, thinking about how a piece will live in your home brings all the utility considerations together. JQY and MDMaison advise matching material to lifestyle and hosting style: stoneware for robust family dinners, porcelain or bone china for refined yet practical everyday use, earthenware for rustic, gentle contexts. Smart.DHgate’s comparison of “light luxury” bone china versus rustic stoneware confirms that both can be microwave and dishwasher safe, but the lighter bone china may suit those who prioritize elegance and low weight, while heavier rustic pieces suit those craving cozy, durable vibes.

A feminist approach does not dictate one correct answer. It invites you to align your purchases with your values: supporting certain makers, picking materials that respect your body’s limits, and insisting on safety and transparency.

Styling a Joyfully Feminist Table

Styling is where the joy curator wakes up. Trend reports from MDMaison, Joyye, 28Ceramics, and Smart.DHgate all point to two big aesthetic currents: minimalist “light luxury” and earthy rustic. Smart.DHgate’s hands-on test of a semi-translucent bone china set versus a heavier rustic stoneware setting describes how the former shines for sleek, modern tables and easy handling, while the latter evokes cozy grandma dinners with imperfect charm.

Instead of picking a side, consider the feminist potential of each and then mix them deliberately. Light luxury aesthetics—white or ink-painted bone china, thin profiles, subtle metallic accents—can honor historically feminized languages of elegance and refinement while still being practical when pieces are microwave and dishwasher safe. Rustic stoneware—textured, weighty, in neutral earth tones—reclaims craft and rural aesthetics that have often been dismissed as lesser than “fine china.”

Placed together, they can tell a story about refusing false hierarchies between “fancy” and “everyday,” between decorative and functional, between masculine and feminine palettes. Here is a snapshot of how that might look in practice:

Layering these thoughtfully makes your table an ongoing conversation. A sleek white porcelain coupe plate from a long-established brand can hold a dinner that sits atop a rustic, hand-thrown charger by a local woman potter. Candy-bright dessert plates inspired by contemporary design editorials can share space with a matte, AI-printed bowl whose pattern remixing is openly credited to a historic archive. The mix-and-match trend highlighted by Joyye and 28Ceramics becomes not just a style choice but a story about whose aesthetics you are honoring.

Caring for Your Pieces as Feminist Practice

Maintenance may not feel glamorous, but it is where your ethics meet daily reality. Decor Kart’s guide to stunning ceramic dinnerware, Lenox’s durability advice, Yongjian’s quality checks, and multiple manufacturer articles converge on a few simple care principles.

Delicate, hand-painted, or low-fire overglaze decorations are better handwashed, even if they are technically dishwasher safe. That is how you protect intricate florals, metallic rims, or subtle matte textures from fading and abrasion. High-fired stoneware and porcelain with robust glazes can usually handle gentle dishwasher cycles, but overloading racks so rims knock together invites chips.

Thermal shock is a common culprit in cracks. Moving a dish straight from the refrigerator to a very hot oven, or from broiler to cold water, stresses the ceramic body. Yongjian suggests thinking about density and water absorption when evaluating pieces; regardless of exact numbers, giving ceramics a few seconds to adjust between extremes is simply kind.

Storage is another feminist detail. Vancasso recommends stacking with felt or cloth separators to prevent micro-scratches and chips, especially for high-value or thin-walled pieces. Avoid hanging mugs solely by handles if the design puts too much stress on a narrow joint. Smart.DHgate’s practical tests also show how thoughtful grooves and stackable profiles in rustic stoneware can make daily storage easier.

Ultimately, caring well for your ceramics respects the labor that went into them and reduces the frequency with which you need to replace them. It supports sustainability, eases financial pressure, and keeps your favorite feminist pieces in circulation for years of conversations.

A Few Quick Questions, Answered

Do ceramics have to show overt feminist imagery to count as feminist?

Not at all. A plate can be feminist because it is made by women potters whose labor is fairly valued, because it prioritizes the comfort and safety of caregivers at home, or because it quietly preserves indigenous or women-led ceramic traditions that have been historically marginalized. Explicit imagery, like Dwyer’s body-positive pieces or Fox‑Ezell’s feminist slogans, is one powerful route, but design decisions around form, weight, and accessibility also matter.

Are handmade or traditional pots safe to use for food?

They can be, but you should not assume. Research and industry reports show that lead and cadmium leaching remains an issue in a significant share of ceramic products on the global market. When buying handmade or traditional ware, especially for daily food use, ask the maker whether they use lead-free, food-safe glazes and whether their pieces have been tested against standards similar to FDA or European LFGB requirements. For older vintage pieces with unknown glazes or visible crazing, it is safer to treat them as decorative.

Can mass-produced dinnerware be part of a feminist table?

Yes, especially when it meets strong safety and durability standards, integrates sustainable practices, credits its designers, and fits the needs of the people actually cooking and cleaning. Articles from HF Coors, Lenox, Euro Ceramica, and others show how industrial dinnerware can be lead-free, vitrified, chip-resistant, and thoughtfully designed for stacking, storage, and multi-appliance use. Pairing these workhorse pieces with a few carefully chosen feminist studio pieces can give you both practicality and expressive power.

In the end, a feminist approach to ceramics is less about policing aesthetics and more about turning your table into a place where care, justice, and joy are material. Every mug, bowl, and dessert plate can participate in that story—one meal, one conversation, one quietly radical object at a time.

References

1. https://kyfolklifemag.org/feminist-pottery/
2. https://chipstone.org/article.php/114/Ceramics-in-America-2002/Women-and-Ceramics:-Gendered-Vessels
3. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/331354994_Feminism_as_a_Model_in_Pottery_Contribution_of_Women_to_the_Preservation_of_Pottery_Heritage
4. https://www.28ceramics.com/a-modern-elegance-exploring-contemporary-porcelain-dinnerware-trends.html
5. https://smart.dhgate.com/expert-tips-for-identifying-high-quality-ceramic-dinnerware-that-lasts/
6. https://ekaceramic.com/8-must-have-ceramic-dish-styles-for-modern-homes/
7. https://www.joyye.com/info-detail/8-inspiring-ceramic-plate-ideas
8. https://jqyceramics.com/the-ultimate-guide-to-choosing-and-caring-for-luxury-ceramic-dinnerware-sets/
9. https://luxurybonechina.com/2-factors-of-quality-of-ceramic-tableware/
10. https://mdmaison.com/blog/ceramic-vs-porcelain-dinnerware-what-you-need-to-know-our-top-picks