Candles

Small batches, usually with somebody’s name on them.

Nearly every candle that’s left this table was made for one specific day — a wedding, a shower, a favour table with a set number of seats. That’s still the main thing. There’s no standing list of scents. There’s wax, vessels, and a label with your details on it.

The usual request

Favours and custom labels.

Tins or glass, your names, your date, your colours, in a quantity that matches the guest list. The label’s the part people keep.

Candle tins with custom floral wedding labels packed in a box
Tins with custom floral labels, boxed for a wedding.
Monogrammed candle tins beside an organza favour bag printed with names and a date
Monogrammed tins with printed organza bags.
Purple organza favour bags packed in a shipping box
Forty-odd favour bags, packed and counted.
A pumpkin-shaped candle in a glass vessel with a monogram label
A pumpkin pour in glass with a monogram label.
A hand holding an etched glass candle over a newspaper-covered worktable
Etched glass, checked over the newspaper it was poured on.
A personalised vessel at a place setting with eucalyptus and dried leaves
A vessel doubling as a place setting.

Right now

Something’s setting.

There’s finished stock from earlier batches on a shelf, but it isn’t listed here yet — scent names, sizes, burn times and prices all get published when they’re actually decided, not before.

So ask. You’ll get the same straight answer you’d get standing at a market table, including “that one’s gone.”

A batch of cream pumpkin-shaped wax pours drying on paper
A batch of pumpkin pours drying. Previous autumn.

How batches work

Small, because the table is a table.

One person, one pouring pitcher, a finite amount of counter. When something’s gone it’s gone until the next pour. It’s a kitchen, not a strategy.

Rows of freshly poured candle tins cooling on a newspaper-covered table
Mid-batch. The newspaper is not a styling choice.