From a series written for ABC Radio National’s Blueprint for Living. This piece first aired on 18th November 2023. You can hear the audio here.

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For those of us of a certain age, a Mason jar was a constant, filled, in my childhood at least, with plums and pears and stored on a cool, dark shelf in the garage. And it’s remarkable how something designed for one purpose can become a symbol of so much else. While the Mason jar was designed to help store a glut of fruit or vegetables, it’s also a history of the modern world encapsulated in glass.

In the 1790s, French chef Nicolas Appert experimented with wax and cork stoppers to seal bottles and preserve their contents, an idea that would help in the development of canned foods. In 1858, American tinsmith John Mason came up with something similar, a glass jar with a moulded threaded collar on which a metal cap could be screwed, thereby creating an airtight and watertight seal. It showed an awareness that contact with air caused food to decay, and its simplicity made it a boon for those who grew their own food, now able to conserve their produce so that it could last into the leaner winter months.

Mason didn’t quite appreciate the impact his invention had. When he refined his own design with different lids and applied for a new patent, the Board refused, saying his claim had lapsed because so many others had developed their own versions in the ten years since his initial patent.  Mason might have lost his rights to the jar but his name remained, becoming the generic term for all jars of this type. A further refinement was made by Alexander Kerr in 1915 with better quality glass and enamelled caps that wouldn’t degrade when in contact with food or when heated, showing that the science of food hygiene and bacterial growth had evolved since Mason’s day. It’s this version that most of us are familiar with now, and they’re often referred to as Kerr Mason jars.

Today, the Mason jar is more likely to be used for simple storage than as part of the process of pickling and preserving. While its airtight quality is appreciated, it also expresses a link to other times. When the gourmet revolution was taking off in the late 1960s, building on the popularity of books by Elizabeth David and promoted in the new lifestyle shops of Terence Conran, the idea of displaying kitchen staples in a more charming way had taken hold. Where Tupperware and other plastics had stolen the show in the 1950s kitchen, the 1970s saw a yearning for something more romantic. The 1980s saw the rise in popularity of the Mediterranean diet, with sun-dried tomatoes and preserved lemons, and the Mason jar seemed to fit the mood. Glass was recyclable and honest, and had a wonky charm that also fed into the shabby chic trend of the 1990s. And so it continued, reaching its zenith in the 21^st century when the Mason jar became not only a storage container but a utensil, something to drink cocktails and fruit juices out of, or else a design accessory, with candles glowing within. All the time, it hinted at an idealised past, the country kitchen or the craft workshop with a dash of Bauhaus functionality. Perhaps it’s not surprising that something affiliated with the appetite should strike such a chord.

The elevation of ordinary objects to other purposes continues. When we decorate our homes with tin signs for engine oil and suspend factory lights above our kitchen counter, we’re demonstrating a resistance to bourgeois prettiness and convention, even though such items are now part of high street fashion. The Mason jar has become a cliché, perhaps, but it remains a symbol of comfort, providing a homespun element in our hard-edged, clinical kitchens. An emotional link to the past, no doubt, but also a salute to the adaptablity of simple design.