For the past week I've been steeped in scientific inquiry, attempting to answer the eternal question: are candles the key to a luxurious life? Let's find out.
Today’s candle is “Passion” by Nest.
Official description: Combines the essences of blooming peony, dewy garden roses and warm sandalwood with a hint of flowering pittosporum, Evelyn Lauder's beloved fragrance note.
The candle wax is bright pink, which feels like a luxury candle no-no? I burn it for about an hour--the fragrance is very floral and very strong and I get paranoid that it’s giving me a headache. The wax color is no lie. I am not getting Evelyn Lauder’s beloved pittosporum because I do not what that is.
I wrote half of a blog post during the burn time.
Candle: Passion, again.
Forget about the candle thing until 6 pm. Contemplate starting a vlog. Look up the cost of ring lights and then promptly give up on the idea of a vlog.
I wondered if the candle would be more relaxing with drinking, but I gave up alcohol for March.
Candle: “Winter White” by Illume
Official description: Aromatic evergreen and frosted cypress are dusted with white peppercorn, spicy-cool cardamom, and a sparkling citrus nuance, perfectly wrapped in glowing amber.
It’s the in-between season where cedary scents feel heavy, but floral seems presumptuous. But I have this candle leftover from Christmas and it covers up whichever animal is farting tonight. And I’m excited by the cardamom note because everyone cool on the British baking show uses it.
Candle: “Pretty and Witty” by Kate Spade
Official description: Lily scented
This candle is covered in lint and dust because it has sat on my bedside table for a year without being burned. I am gross.
Compared to the ensconcing fragrance of the Nest candle, this is one I don’t notice until I burn it out. While burning, I barely detect any fragrance at all. It’s an ambiguous companion to my stethoscope shopping and very appropriate since I’m now looking at a rose gold stethoscope--a statement of style as basic as the candle.
Despite it being 30 degrees out, my allergies have flared up in a single nostril. No candles.
Candle: “La Marquise” by Cire Trudon
Official description: The powdery and merry air of a delicious boudoir: verbena and lemon polish the sensuality of the white flowers and roses.
Bebes, of course there is an obscenely expensive candle in the mix. I am a childless lady in NYC. We are not complete without Diptyque, but I didn’t like any of the Diptyque scents so I got this instead at Bergdorf for my thirtieth. And then I put it under a glass cloche to save for a special occasion. Like today, the day my right nostril stopped oozing viscous fluid.
And may I just say this candle is magic? It’s a delicious summer scent--not cloyingly floral and with just enough citrus for bounce. Yes, bounce.
I burn it while Duolingo berates me for continually mixing up tú and yo.
That's it. Candle week is over. Candles are fine. Burn them if you wish.