We have a winner! Thanks to the power of the random integer generator and your marvelous creativity, we have a winner in our Smells Like Chris Evans Or The Hotness of Your Choice candle giveaway!
The winner is: Nicollette, who hopes the candle smells like, “… Joe Carroll from The Following and I talking in a warm room while its raining outside. I know he is a serial killer and all, but for this fantasy it works…LOL.”
Congrats, and thank you everyone for a very delightful comment thread!
There’s a mythical story of a certain kind of Yankee Candle that rumor has it smells like Chris Evans looks. Not, like, clean-shaven Captain America Chris Evans, but between-movies-scruffy-beard-lumberjack-with-a-plaid-shirt-adorable-meatball-Chris Evans. You know the one.
This candle is called Mountain Lodge, and we know our job here at the Hot Pink Palace of Bitchery. We had to investigate this claim. Basically, if there’s a candle out there that smells like “Richard Armitage got you another blanket and is now spooning you” than we needed to find it and investigate the claims and report back. YOU NEED TO KNOW THIS. I NEED YOU TO KNOW THE TRUTH.
So I hopped on a bus, then on a train, and trotted down to the only Yankee Candle store on public transit in Boston. This store? In the heart of tourist central, in the Historic Faneuil Hall/Quincy Market area.
I BRAVED TOURISTS FOR YOU PEOPLE. LOTS OF TOURISTS.
Now, the original post’s instructions told you to go to the Man Town section.
Thankfully, this is over and done with- Mountain Lodge is now in the less sexist and weirdly named “Fresh” section.
SUCCESS.
I was thrilled that the store had it, because my other option was to order off the internet, and that does not make for as good a story as BRAVING TOURISTS AND RETURNING HOME TO THE PINK PALACE VICTORIOUS IN BATTLE. AMONG TOURISTS. AND SCHOOL GROUPS.
It DOES smell like Lumberjack Chris Evans.
It DOES.
It smells like you’re snuggled up in front of a fire with Hugh Jackman and you’re both reading good books and read passages to each other while sipping some really fantastic scotch.
It smells like Jason Statham is chopping wood for you.
It smells like Chiwetel Ejiofor is reciting Shakespeare to you.
It smells like you’re shivering under your covers, and Tom Hardy went to nuke the rice bag and tucks it by your feet so you can dig your frozen toes into it, and then cuddles you until you’re warm again and then you have 9 hours of perfect sleep and wake up fresh-faced and dewey-cheeked and without bed head and then Tom brings you a mug of fresh coffee that he doctored just the way you like it.
All at the same time.
That’s what it smells like.
So I brought it home, and gloated to my roommate (Girl!Roommate, not Dude!Roommate) that I had hunted and gathered and returned victorious and she then smelled the candle and declared like it smelled like Old Spice and cheap incense and she has no sense of delight in the world and is also wrong.
Now, we are not going to sit on this bounty by ourselves. No, no, we have a giveaway.
We have a 12 pack of Mountain Lodge tea lights to send to one of you!
All you need to do is leave a comment and tell us what you wish the Mountain Lodge candle to smell like in your home. Colin Firth in a cravat, bringing you breakfast? Anna Kendrick and Rebel Wilson singing to you while they cook eggs? Ji Chang-wook protecting you from all the bad guys while also bringing you a hot coffee? Jason Momoa doing pretty much whatever? Share yours!
Standard disclaimers apply: Standard disclaimers apply: we’re not being compensated for this giveaway, except for the part where it smells really good in here. Void where prohibited. Open to international residents were permitted by applicable law. Must be over 18 and prepared for olfactory glory to win. Your mileage may vary. You can in fact possibly smell what the Rock is cooking. Winners will be chosen at random on Friday 26 June 2015 and will be announced same day.
Good luck, and breathe deeply!
It’s going to smell like sitting between Chris Pratt and Tom Hiddleston on bonfire night, sipping hot chocolate and watching Christian Grey burn at a stake.
I’m already smelling Colonel-Brandon-Alan-Rickman assisting me into a horse-drawn carriage (with seemingly no effort, mind) that is festooned in Outlander style knit goodness. Come to think of it, I do believe Sam Heughan is likely to appear in highwayman fashion, and a challenge for my affections will ensue.
It smells like Jeremy Renner is rubbing my shoulders after a long day while I watch Chris Hemsworth play with a litter of kittens.
Mmmmm…
Max Martini is bringing me one. He doesn’t say much, he never does. But he just looks gruff and yummy. He smells ever so slightly of the desert.
Meanwhile, James Murray is massaging my feet, and telling me quirky little anecdotes. I’m not really paying attention because . . . Have you seen James Murray? James smells like the soil deep, deep in the forest.
When they’re both near me their combined scent drives me wild and calms me at the same time.
Heaven.
***
Alas, living in Phoenix as I do, there is no way to safely ship me a candle.
Sigh.
I hope it smells like Ranveer Singh (with a beard + mustache combo, natch–clean-shaven Ranveer Singh looks like an infant) cuddling me in front of a fire while a snowstorm rages outside.
(I watched the Bollywood movie Lootera at an impressionable age.)
How about Alan Rickman distracting the local deer from eating my plants by reciting Homer while Benedict Cumberbatch, taking a break from his newborn, makes coffee for me?
I would hope that it smells like cuddling with Tom Hiddleston under a cozy blanket, before a fire built from the wood that Tom Hardy cut, while we listen to Benedict Cumberbatch recite just about anything. Unfortunately, no matter how good a candle might smell, my nose will close within seconds and a blinding headache will ensue, so if my number comes up, please gift it to someone worthy who will light it in my (and Tom Hiddleston’s) honor.
I would hope that it smells like Richard Armitage curling up with me in front of a campfire while we make smores under the starry, starry sky, while Toms Hardy and Hiddleston read Shakespeare and we all sip on good wine.
I live just next to where Outlander is filmed. I could burn some of these, and see if I could attract some of the cast to my surburban den of iniquity for crumpets, crumpet and tea.
It smells like Daniel Craig bringing me a cup of tea after stoking the fire in that castle in Skyfall (before it got blowed up, of course), wrapping me in a wool plaid blanket. And I can smell the beef bourguignon that he put in the oven a few hours ago, along with the fresh bread that he just finished.
Hubba hubba.
It smells like eating smores while cuddling with Mick St. John ( Moonlight Alex O’Loughlin) under a blanket while it snows outside while I read a REALLY REALLY good book. No places to go no things to do just cuddling with a hot guy some smores and a really really awesome book!
Perfume is my (other) hobby, so this topic is very dear to me. I once smelled a very raunchy smelling fragrance (did you know perfumes could be raunchy, too?), turned to my husband, and said, “This smells like Hugh Jackman at a petting zoo!” Divine.
I guess my mountain lodge smells like sipping mulled wine on an old leather sofa in front of a crackling fire while Jon Stewart entertains me with hilarious anecdotes. Kit Harrington is out braving the snowstorm, probably protecting us from wolves or something, but he’ll be back soon.
(Incidentally, I would kind of love a candle that smells like Old Spice and incense.)
My mountain lodge would smell like Peter Dinklage gave it a thorough clean, spread sheepskins before the fire, hung a brass kettle over the flames and settled down to entertain me with behind-the-scenes stories about shooting Game of Thrones.
It smells like Tom Hiddleston, dressed in his Loki costume, reading passages from Elizabethan dramas off my Ph.D. reading list in funny voices while we cuddle on the couch with my cat.
I wish it smells like Billy Crudup wearing a plaid shirt and shampooing my carpet.
Smells like Anthony Andrews in his younger years, maybe Brideshead Revisited, wearing a wooly jumper and bringing me perfect British tea and a fresh plate of scones dripping in butter with plenty of clotted cream and jam on the side.
And thrn snuggles while we discuss sword play. No, actual sword play. With Richard Armitage and Shawn Ashmore cooking in the kitchen. Preferably in aprons. Just aprons.
(Look, I may have been introduced to The Scarlet Pimpernel in my tender years, and my love for Anthony has never left me. Don’t judge.)
I’m pretty sure it smells like scruffy Sebastian Stan snuggled under a tartan blanket and roasting marshmallows on the fire while I read, while a storm rages outside and cats try to nap on our legs.
It will smell like Tom Hiddleston in a sweater cuddling me and reciting poetry while we drink tea on a lazy afternoon
I’m pretty sure it smells like Tom Brady giving me a foot rub whilst Ron Gronkowski makes us all burgers on the grill.
Having just watched the first episode of Poldark last night, I want a candle that smells like Aidan Turner on horseback riding over the cliffs of Cornwall to rescue my dog and save me from a loveless marriage of convenience.
It will smell like Chris Evans startling me into a girly squeak and then cuddling away my indignant outrage at his meatball antics. The scruffy beard will make it doubly amazing.
It will smell like Tom Hiddleston dancing around the house, then collapsing next to me on the sofa and reciting Shakespearean sonnets.
I’m sure this candle smells exactly like Sean Bean after he has survived all the way through the end of a movie and is now grilling steaks and sipping scotch to celebrate.
I want it to smell like I’ve had a One night stand with Kit Harrington. I wake up and I just can’t get the smell of the Night’s Watch to go away nor do I want it to. I’m guaranteeing Kit Harrington is a smell I want to bottle and keep forever. “you know nothing Jon Snow” but damn you smell like an orgasm.
Pretty sure it smells like the romantic cabin where Hawke takes Sienna in the Sierras.
It smells like Jason Momoa who has just rescued me from kidnappers and we’re hiding out in his lake cabin where he has just joined me in his giant tub. He is spooning my back and washing my hair while cooing in my ear that he is going to make it all better.
It smells like The Barefoot Contessa making a pumpkin pie in the kitchen while I snuggle by the roaring fire with Channing Tatum who doesn’t mind our age difference, in fact prefers older, fluffier, experienced women.
I think this should smell like Viggo Mortensen rubbing my feet and reciting his poetry in a cozy log cabin. 🙂
This candle is going to smell like Paul Rudd giving me a backrub and then going of to fetch me Chinese takeout. Or Joseph Gordon Levitt serenading me while performing a choreographed dance routine. (But if it ends up smelling like Chris Evans, I’m totally cool with that too!)
Weeping. This would smell like Chris Evans making me laugh and happysigh (how, I’ll leave to everybody’s imaginations) while a snowstorm and a fire (and Chris Evans) make the whole world feel cozy.
It smells like the cabin where Nick Offerman and Megan Mullally bring me after a boat ride across a silver lake to a small, unpopulated island off the Oregon coast. Nick make the cabin with his hands, obviously, as well as the four-poster bed that takes up half the back wall. “It’s big enough for three!” Megan tells me, and Nick giggles in that way that makes you want to squeeze him around his manly, rugged middle.
It’s a warm night, so we don’t light the fire, but instead we all pile in the middle of the bed and Nick plays the guitar and we all make up silly songs and drink iced tea spiked with whiskey and munch on Cool Ranch Doritos. “Man, I wish Evans was here,” Nick sighs at one point, staring forlornly at a Dorito.
“We all do, honey,” Megan tells him, squeezing his hand and planting a kiss to his forehead. “We all do.”
The woods. And coffee. And sweaty man.
I hope it smells like Chris Evans just finished tuning up my Mustang and has now come inside to give me a massage and feed me chocolate covered strawberries, then watching the Notebook with me and reading Black Dagger novels with me after. 🙂
I like the between-movies-scruffy-beard-lumberjack-with-a-plaid-shirt-adorable-meatball-Chris Evans, but I will add in front of the fireplace and him giving me a backrub…shirtless 🙂
Belgian Chocolate and Ian Somerhalder on a beach 🙂
I would love for it to smell like vanilla and coffee
I think it will smell like being curled up in a cozy blanket in front of a fire, reading a old leather book. (I feel sweaty just typing that. Pass the lemonade.)
Now I’m going stop in at a Yankee Candle and give one a sniff. Thankfully, that’s only a single bus ride away to the mall with the nice theater.
Robson Green bringing in an armful of wood for the fire, stops and asks if I’d like tea and fresh scones. Fun with jam and clotted cream ensue.
It smells like Scott Fujita and I wrapped up together in a warm, soft blanket, drinking mugs of hot tea and discussing feminism as an early spring thunderstorm brews just outside our picture window (just big enough for two).
@LiJuun Hah, what complete and utter fantasy…everyone knows that Sean Bean NEVER makes it all the way to the end alive!