There's a particular kind of evening, cold outside, something simmering on the stove, maybe just you and one other person, where a proper wine glass makes the whole thing feel like more than a Tuesday. Not a special occasion glass, just a good one. That's the test for me now. If it only comes out for guests, it's not doing its job.
In an ordinary room, wine glasses sit well with almost nothing fussy around them, which is the point. A plain wood table, a few candles, mismatched plates even, the glass can carry the whole look if the stem is clean and the bowl catches light properly. I keep mine on open shelving instead of behind a cabinet door because a row of good glasses is honestly better looking than most of the art I've bought. Nobody warns you that glassware can be the pretty thing in a kitchen, but it can.
The difference between a glass you keep for years and one you chip within a month comes down to a few boring but crucial things. Thin, hand finished rims versus a rim that's been machine cut and never properly smoothed, you can feel it with your lip before you even taste the wine. A stem that's pulled from the same piece of glass as the bowl holds up to dishwasher life and the occasional drop far better than one that's glued or fused at a seam, that seam is always where the crack starts. And weight matters more than people think. A glass that feels like nothing in your hand usually is nothing, structurally. It'll go in the first year.
If you're starting from zero, don't buy a set of twelve in some shape you're not sure about. Buy six of one all purpose glass, the kind with a decent sized bowl that works for red and white both, and live with those for a while before you decide you need something more specific. I made the mistake of buying narrow flutes and oddly shaped reds in my twenties and most of them never left the cabinet.
Good glasses age well if you treat them gently, which mostly means washing by hand, drying with a soft towel before they sit, and not stacking them inside each other in a cupboard, that's how rims crack. Mine have survived a move, a dishwasher phase I regret, and one memorable spill that stained a white rug rather than the glass itself. They still look the way they did the day I bought them.
Next to them, I'd put a simple carafe, nothing ornate, just something clear enough to show the wine breathing, sitting on the same shelf, waiting its turn.