To Yankee Candles

We had no idea that we needed the smell of washed linen in our living rooms. We never knew sunflowers smelled like a hot sweet July day, some mad mix of cotton and lavender and cucumber. In winter, we light up pine scented ocean breeze and imagine we are all in Northern California and we have not given up the dream of living off the grid.

 

But the standard by which all other candles are judged is Vanilla. Madagascar vanilla. Vanilla cake. Vanilla chai. Vanilla lime. Vanilla bourbon.

Source: http://www.yankeecandle.com

What inspired vanilla bourbon? Did the candle maker go to a dinner at Tavern on the Green the night they ran out of desserts and so drenched some vanilla ice cream with bourbon and called it a house special? Maybe it was lunch at the B-Spot in Cleveland, a boozy adult milkshake with some artisan burger on a freshly made sourdough bun?

No. Nothing that hip. Her mother poured the drinks at 5:30, 5 on Saturday. Her dad put on jazz and she knew from the record choice if they would all be eating dinner together or if the children would be eating alone. Count Basie, Louis Armstrong were good nights. But Charlie Parker, Billie Holiday, Chet Baker--she could feel the sad drift up the stairs. Her mother would call her and the boys for dinner early, serve them canned tomato and grilled cheese. She always wished for the edges to cut off, not because she minded them, but it seemed a small grand gesture a parent might make as a way of saying, "I'll make this special for you."

But her mother would sit with them. She'd bring just her bourbon to the table. When she would bend down to pick up the plates, her arms would smell like vanilla, but her breath would smell like bourbon.

It's a best seller the first week it hits the shelf. Stores can't keep it in stock. It's on back order in every state.

The company thinks it reminds people of fireplaces and warmth and good books.

But across America, people remember the Chet Baker nights in their homes. The way their parents sighed.