Heaven is a Cire Trudon candle.

I´ve always liked to have a scented candle going in the house, but now that we´re a 50 fag a day or so household, it´s become more of a necessity than an indulgence. Pre-Cire Trudon, I used to favour  Diptyque´s Figueur, Santa Maria Novella´s Melograno or Penhaligon´s Blenheim Bouquet, but that all stopped when I came across these heinously expensive but well-worth-every-penny-bits-of-heaven-in-a- green-hand-blown jar in the Bluebird on the King´s Road (note to anyone buying in London:  don´t get them at Bluebird because they´re a tenner dearer than they are in Liberty´s).

The house comes with a history. Founded in 1643 (which is already enough to make me part with lots of money) it is the oldest wax-producing manufacture in the world - or at least that´s what it says on the box. The wax is made of a mixture of palm oil, rice, soy and coprah, and the candlewicks - please note - are woven with pure cotton (again, I´m quoting the box here!)

Last night, having gone through the last waxy drop of Manon (the blurb: "happy as a lark, this delicious scent of fresh cupboard and of swilled down tile floors, recall the washing days of George Sand heroes and the Parisian laundry maids. Between stacks of embroidered linen sheets on a lady´s festooned bed, lavender and orange spread a smell of lightness and neatness" - now resist that if you can!!!!) I lit Carmelite (blurb: "the perfume of the old stone walls, in the shade of the cloisters and convents, this scent of fresh mossy stone tells us about the black and white silhouette of sisters moving in the silence of ritual mass. Under the light of votives and psalmody, Carmelite refers to the peace of sould and eternity". This is pornography, no?), which I also have on now and which has transformed this room from a stale, ciggie-smelling, morning-after-a-dinner-party room, to the closest thing you can get to olfactory orgasms.

So far, I´ve tried Roi Soleil (blurb: "Fragrance of the mirror gallery and the vast wooden floors of the Chateau de Versailles, vapours of wax, candelabra and palace ....) and have Trianon (Blurb: "the picking of jacinth, roses, white flowers, wild herbs from the meadows and graminacious plants, this bunch of flowers reminds us of an ideal nature, that of the Nouvelle Heloise and the country life dreams of Marie Antoinette. Vibrating with the memory of a summer evebubg ab the warm scent of musk of torches, this candle is an homage to the Queen of taste who inspired so many candles to Maison de cire Trudon") next in line, which means I´m guaranteed nice smells for the next month or so. By then, I suppose, letters would have started puring in from my bank manager!