Review: That Loyal Old Red Curver Box

Pictured: How no-one remembers the box, in happier times


What’s being tested?

The increasingly impractical, degraded and therefore potentially dangerous plastic Curver box that, while not yet granted  ‘family aireloom’ status, has been in use since time immemorial, and remains so largely due to unresolved sentimental reasons.

What we found


We found that the continued use of the otherwise lethal Curver box implied in the user several positive qualities, most notably that they are “all about the work”, as a result of their evident reluctance to engage in a focused stationary shop. The box’s lethal stylings also imbued its owner with a kind of devil-may-care, freewheeling romance, given that they clearly have no intention of guaranteeing their own wellbeing by committing such a simple act as buying a new plastic storage receptacle.

Our testers noted that the box itself is seen as touchstone of sorts, and the sight of its dependable, unwavering plastic form can be a source of great comfort and relief to those who know it’s place in family history (despite the box in question being held together with gaffa tape and prayers and having really, really sharp edges now). The box is also known to be of particular embarrassment to Uncle Jeff, when he was bested by the vessel in one of his formerly legendary and now quite tedious ill-tempered drunken tussles with whatever happens to be on hand. The box therefore has a great deal of familial anecdote currency, while also serving as a general deterrent to Uncle Jeff.

Finally, we found that the fact that the box is really just a combination of extremely sharp plastic shards loosely held together with some tape of some description makes it a formidable and very unexpected emergency weapon.


As probably evidenced in the former stages of this review, the box, as a result of its advanced years and continued use, is in a very volatile state. It’s structural integrity is profoundly compromised, which makes it extremely  dangerous. Coupled with its incredible knack of appearing where it’s least expected, and usually at shin height, the receptacle often negates any goodwill felt towards it by causing grievous injuries that with painful hindsight could have been avoided by just binning the f*cking thing. Often the source of familial tension, as no one can identify who it is that wants to keep the box anyway, and seems to be able to generate almost limitless quantities of unidentifiable power cords and nearly-spent biros.


We found that, on balance, it would be better to let the box die an honourable death, befitting a receptacle of its standing, respectful of the services rendered to the family who love it. Our testers found that this end should be hastened, as the box can only be described as having a taste for blood – specifically, the blood of an exposed shin.  Ultimately, we know that the only real course of action is to make the disposal of the cherished Curver box swift and clean (in the bin), before someone loses a foot and sees fit to punch it into infernal tiny red pieces.