For a lot of my young adulthood (which sadly I am not in anymore), the can stood for one thing: cheap beer. A format for volume, not for love. If you wanted to signal quality, you reached for a bottle. Glass had the gloss, the ritual, the shelf presence. The can was what you drank from when you weren't trying to impress anyone.

Then came craft beer, and it broke that rule. Suddenly cans were loud, illustrated, collectable. They were the canvas for the brand’s identity rather than an afterthought of packaging. Brands used colour and design to fight for attention on a crowded shelf, and it worked: the can stopped being a compromise and became a choice. Drinkers who once dismissed it started seeking it out. But only if you wanted to drink craft beer.

Now RTDs are running the same play but are changing the whole beverage landscape, not just one category. Cans are across categories – from RTD wine to beer to cocktails to water.  Names lean tongue-in-cheek. Design signals the occasion and often flavour before the drinker even reads the label – a cheeky one on the way to a baseball match, a festival, a Tuesday that wants to feel like a Friday. The can isn't hiding what's inside anymore; it's selling the moment around it.

What makes this different from the craft beer story is where it's happening. RTDs are doing something the beer category never did: replacing the role of the bartender – not everywhere, but in mainstream venues, RTDs are commonplace. Venues that would once have reached for a bottle or built a drink from scratch are now stocking cans as a legitimate on-trade offer, not a backup option. That's not a packaging trend. That's a category being taken seriously by the people who decide what goes on a bar.

Put those two things together, and the can isn't just having a moment. It's become the format other categories now have to answer to. The can is no longer a budget format; it is a premium play and a must for any brand that wants to be in the occasion.

Written by Lizzie Carr, Managing Director