Reading is wonderful. You don't need us to tell you that. Diving into someone else's story. Learning new words, thinking new thoughts, and carrying them around in your pocket like a superpower. Find the right book, and it's all consuming. Find your favourite book, and you'll forever remember where you were when you started, if not finished it, and the accoutrements that went with it. Be it the swallow-you-up chair, mug of probably-lukewarm tea, or the candle that pricked the atmosphere and amplified it.
Voracious readers may be able to read on baby-laden aeroplanes, or bustling commutes (we should be so lucky), but others require a dimly-lit, monastically-silent sanctuary. Yes, candles and books are harmonic bedfellows, and no, before you ask, you needn't do anything as contrived as tenuously pair a genre with the scent of a candle - which isn't to say that this entire process is pointless, merely that NO-ONE has time for that. Even now.
Winter may monopolise candles, but fervent flame fans, know them to be just as good in spring. Or simply when the world is on the brink. Ahem.
What came first, the line drawing or the must-have millennial piece? Don't answer that. Do buy this, which is indeed, inspired by the Andes. Horse riding through them, in fact.
If you know someone that wears the fragrance of this, you'll know how irresistible it is to nuzzle into the neck, but that's a) unprofessional (she's your boss) and b) unsustainable. This however. This will billow its rich, woodsy, amberness into your whole house.
And you thought the lure of tie dye stopped at socks and sweaters. Further seduction is the fact that it smells like a National Trust garden in high summer, which is to say that it's herby, bright and busy. Three wicks, too.
Admit it, reading a classic makes you feel inexplicably sanctimonious. Good, it's only right then to match it with a holier-than-thou candle, that's been hand poured in the mecca of artisanship, East London, is vegan, sustainable and laced only with superlative essential oils.
It's tricky to crack a rose scent without it feeling synthetic and/or predictable, but this has done just that. Tumbling roses with woodsy notes from the vine - just like the pot, actually.
Oh Capri, and its sorbets that hum with tangy lemons, unctuous frutti di mare and boats so big you could park double decker buses on them. Our only stipulation is that in addition to a book, there's a G&T, too.
This will drop your shoulders an inch, which is as good a prescription as any for a book that's making you bite your nails with worry. It's less spa-like than it's older siblings, but is just as delectable, and oh, it has three. whole. wicks.
Not half as dramatic as its exterior would have you believe, but in the very best way. Dry and bracing, yes, but laced with soothing whiffs of honey. A rather nice toothbrush holder afterwards, too.