My dad took to Gauloises in the early 70s on a trip to Southern France: dressed in double denim, mutton chops and a Che Guevara t-shirt he cut a typical figure of an Englishman abroad. I sneaked one to see if i could be so cool and regretted it immediately: it felt like a hive of angry bees had invaded my lungs!
You'd think it'd put me off smoking, but no! I persevered with Embassy #1 back home and soon got the hang of it. Tried Gitanes on another trip to France and enjoyed them with a cup of strong coffee - avoiding the fashion tragedy of double denim, in the early 80s.
You're missing the point of a working man's tea mug: it must remain stained with the memory of a thousand brews. It is an unwritten rule, acknowledged by all.