Nothing is made to be admired from a distance. Cups, plates, incense holders, spoon rests, candles: objects meant to be picked up every morning and washed by hand every evening. There is a plate shaped like a slice of toast, sold with a mug that sits on it, which tells you most of what you need to know. Olga makes them in the south of Spain, in small batches, and runs the workshop herself. A cup with a bit of weight to it. A tray small enough for an incense stick or a pair of earrings. A spoon rest with a rough, unfinished-looking edge. Nothing is trying to be more than what it is.

The glazes are where the control ends. On the Nox incense holder they run from a cosmic grey into blue, purple, a milky white and a warm brown, and the shape underneath is left deliberately irregular. Olga says as much on every listing: slight variation in colour and form is part of the piece, never a flaw. Hand wash, she asks, to keep it that way.

Not all of it is quiet. There is a cup with a small croissant stuck to the side, and a matcha bowl with croissants sculpted and painted onto it. Cups dotted with coffee beans. Cups painted with lemons, in tribute to the gardens around the studio. Espresso cups in black and white, pinched into shape by hand rather than thrown. A folded note in glazed clay, carrying a message you choose yourself. All of it sits in the same small range as the speckled plates and the plain grey cups, which is unusual: most studios pick a lane and stay in it.

The scented candles are poured into cups you keep once the wax has gone, so half the range ends up back in the cupboard as something to drink from.

All of it comes out of the same small workshop, which is the part that is easy to miss. A cup with a croissant on it is a joke somebody still had to sculpt, glaze and fire, one at a time. She says as much herself, on her own listings, next to the pieces she has not finished yet.