A candle that turns into a houseplant—could there be a better internet find?
‘Growing’ Candles Are the Coziest Home Product to Ever Exist
When I saw an Instagram ad for ‘growing’ candles that melt down and then turn into little potted plants, I let out a little gasp of wonder, the kind you might emit when watching the swaddle fall away from the face of a newborn baby.
I am not proud that online shopping is capable of bringing me to the zenith of human emotion. But I knew then that I had found the most elusive thing: something to order online that actually makes me feel happy.
In my experience, buying things online goes one of two ways.
The first way: You press “buy now” and are giddy with joy. Your veins run with what feels like hot caramel, colors look more vivid, air tastes lightly sweetened. You are certain that when this object arrives you will become a new person, even if you have to move into a new house and get a new job to live up to this new purchase. You will become a better lover. You will throw dinner parties where your guests will get wine-drunk and organically reveal the petty crimes they committed in high school.
Then the object arrives, your life is the same except for now it’s actually full of used shipping materials, which remind you of your failure. You enter a state of melancholy. Soon, the entire process repeats.
The second way: The same thing as before, except the object is awesome, and every time you see it you feel a little glow of pleasure.
Hyggelight is a company that styles itself with an earthy chicness that evokes that Dakota Johnson home tour video where she shows off her display of limes. Its hero product is a “growing” candle, which is described as follows: “Burn Candle + Plant Label = Grow Flowers.” The idea is that you enjoy the candle, and when it burns down, you repurpose the container as a planter, using the plant label itself, which is made with seeds.
Edith Hyggelight Candle
$30AmazonAstrid Hyggelight Candle
$30AmazonI find this borderline spooky. The product so fully satisfies my idea of a delightful object—not horribly expensive, makes me feel rich, environmentally thoughtful, you can set it on fire, is actually a plant. I immediately want to fill a linen closet with these boxes and always have them on hand to give as graduation gifts, hostess gifts, and “ha ha ha look what a thoughtful friend I am and also so stylish and eco-conscious” gifts.
Just to be fair—and to achieve my dream of being surrounded at all times by lit candles, like an evil count—I tried a similar product from Modern Sprout. Its “Glow and Grow” is a larger candle in a raised ceramic holder that comes with activated charcoal and plant food. It goes from candle centerpiece to miniature herb garden. My candle wafted a soft basil scent through the house—it didn’t smell even slightly artificial or sterile (it actually smelled like an Italian greengrocer). Then I used the activated charcoal, plant food, and seeds that came in the packaging, and had a baby basil plant. Regrettably, I loved these, too.
Modern Sprout Glow and Grow Candle
$35Food 52Both Hyggelight and Modern Sprout come in a ceramic vessel. Truly a vessel—not a pot, or a cup, or a twee little jar. They are heavy, lovely objects, that a more sophisticated person might describe as “earthenware.” They lend a feeling of coziness. The idea is that these are candle containers you can repurpose, unlike the sooty, wax-caked candle carcasses scattered around the rim of my bathtub. I have the Greta and Edith candles from Hyggelight, though I now want to adopt the entire family.
It's true that the experience of ordering something online in hopes of gaining a little cheer can work with any object: a vintage loveseat, a ruby necklace, a set of tweezers, a nifty can opener. The trick is that it's not just about the high you get when you exchange of cash for goods, but the ecstasy of possibility. When you are waiting for something to arrive in the mail, life has a very clear sense of forward mobility. For once time moves in a straight line and not in a nauseating wave pattern. You have actually arranged for something good to come your way.
Often, this is all in vain. Packing peanuts litter the floor, malaise drips like hot, messy wax over the side of a candle. But every so often, you get something special, something that brings beauty to your life. Something that burns, and melts, and blooms, and grows.
Jenny Singer is a staff writer for Glamour. You can follow her on Twitter.
This story originally appeared on: Glamour - Author:Jenny Singer