What’s the Deal With Okapa’s $300 Water Bottle?

“What does it feel like? do?” asked my friend as we sat there staring at the futuristic-looking pink chrome cylinder on the table. “It’s just a water bottle,” I said.

“It doesn’t filter your water? Keep track of how much you drink?” she asked. I shrugged my shoulders. “No, I guess it looks cool, though.” My friend was asking me this because Okapa, a brand with just one product, sells its flagship water bottle for $295.

For context, most high-end water bottles cost around $50, or maybe $100 to $150 if they have fancy features like self-cleaning UV lights, built-in filters, or app connectivity to monitor your drinking habits. When a brand charges significantly more than market value, it’s usually for one of two reasons: Either it’s a luxury product designed as a status symbol, or it solves a consumer problem that no one else has solved.

Okapa claims to do both. Her Instagram bio talks about “luxury hydration” and she appeals to the fashion world to find her clientele by partnering with a small designer for a New York Fashion Week show. But Okapa also says its bottle redefines hygiene and sustainability, using materials typically found in medical and aerospace applications.

Indeed, Okapa says it took eight years of research and development and more than 10,000 prototypes to achieve the “micron precision” of its bottle, and in doing so it was awarded more than 70 patents worldwide. By the way, if you’re wondering what Okapa means or where it comes from, according to the company, it’s apparently a state of mind. “We call it ‘Okapa State’ where the unthinkable happens,” says the bumf website. The site adds that the bottle is “a technical feat of engineering beyond reason.”

No stranger to the luxury market, or even hyperbolic product promises, Okapa founder Hardy Steinmann cut his teeth in the ’80s and ’90s running marketing and sales for high-end watch brand Hublot in the United States, then relaunching the Swatch Group’s Hamilton watch brand globally.

Regardless, do these medical and aerospace materials actually make a difference in a water bottle? Can a water bottle really redefine hygiene? I tested it for almost two months and spoke to a medical toxicology expert to find out.

Initial thoughts

Before I even got my hands on the water bottle, I saw the website. It has a retro video game aesthetic with pixelated text and sliding transitions. Even the user manual is illustrated in the same playful style. And I’m a fan of a company that puts so much intention into the brand design and overall feel.

When I unboxed the water bottle, I was even more sold. This thing is magnificent. The lines are clean, the dot pattern is eye-catching, and the finish has a soft matte sheen that looks expensive. I got the pink and yellow colorway (Peaches Copperwire), but there are eight in total, from all black to bright red. Each has a name that sounds more like a low-budget sci-fi movie character than a color, like Redd Rumble or Mitsi Pinku.

With such a distinctive design, would my novelty water bottle spark jealousy from peers or strangers? Could they even say it cost that much? I’ve carried it through airports, to spas, to business events in New York, and on trains in Europe. I kept it in my hand, swinging it between my fingers, fishing for compliments. I don’t have any.

The test experience

Water bottles are a pretty basic product, so the engineering and details of the Okapa bottle surprised me. Firstly, it’s really satisfying to drink. The lid opens with the push of a button and lets out some clean liquid. popular as the spring-loaded top snaps back into place. It’s easy to open with one hand, and when you tilt the bottle to get the last drop, the cap stays perfectly out of the way instead of tipping forward to hit you in the forehead.

The shape of the mouthpiece fits perfectly when you purse your lips, and the Swiss-made Grilamid plastic is softer and more premium than most. It also has a locking mechanism that works exceptionally well. Even when I forget to turn on locked mode, the cap never opened in my bag. (I once destroyed a laptop when an Owala opened mid-ride, so I appreciate a reliable latch.)