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!
I think mine would actually legit smell like Chris Evans, beardy and cozy, maybe making jokes and laughing and doing that thing where he cups his own pec? I find that to be a hilarious tic about him, and the Mountain Lodge candle would smell like that. I mean, basically it would smell like this: http://the-toast.net/2015/02/19/chris-evans-boyfriend/
If it smelled like Jason Momoa I’d die a happy girl. Thank you for the wonderful giveaway.
Erin
ErinLoves2Run at gmail dot com
It’ll smell like sipping cocoa in front of a roaring fire while Mark Darcy reads to me as snow falls outside.
The family cabin was just as I remembered it, although the pines lining the dirt road have grown in the past ten years. I open the front door with my mother’s key. Now, my key. Late afternoon sunlight makes a silhouette of my body on the glowing oak floorboards as I move my wheelie suitcase and duffle into the cabin.
The air inside smells of the citrus cleaner favored by the caretaking company we’ve used since I was a kid. Not a bad smell, but I open the screened windows facing the lake, then rummage in my duffle for the candle purchased just before leaving the city. “Mountain Lodge.” I had sniffed the strong, unusual scent, and been swept away with memories of the cabin.
I light the candle and place it on the windowsill. I can smell the lake on the wind, green and black smells of algae and rich earth. I can smell catmint lining the spring-fed tumble of water that courses beside the path leading to the lake. A little minty, a little skunky. Cedar and spice and sage rise on the hot updraft from the candle wick. I stand for a long time, just breathing, and watch the surface of the lake roughen into sinuous, wind driven patterns. Low, in the distance, a rumble of sound tells me it will be a rainy night.
I don’t know how long I might have stood there if the knock hadn’t sounded on the door.
“Paul.” Quelle surprise, as they say in the movies.
“There’s a weather advisory for tonight,” he says, waving a bottle of red wine at me. “Mrs. Cleaner told me you were coming for a week.”
The last time I’d seen Paul, neither of us had been of legal drinking age. The last time I’d seen Paul we’d said goodbye with a kiss that I considered the actual moment I lost my virginity. That skinny kid, with thick black hair that probably added pounds to his body weight, had grown into a man. He’d grown into a man with an uncanny resemblance to a young Chow Yun Fat.
He pushes past me into the cabin, heads for the open kitchen area and, unerringly, for glasses and corkscrew. “I’ve been living in our old place next door. There’s wood in the fireplace, ready to go. Light it up . . . we’ve got some catching up to do.”
It smells like Sam Heughan and Sebastian Stan have whisked me off to a secluded snowy cabin and are snuggling me by the fire while reading aloud from my favorite novels.
hahaha i enjoyed this post // your narrative greatly. hmmmm to me it would smell like my husband (yeah yeah i know not very juicy :p) chopping us wood for a fire, making me some cookies and sitting in our yard together by our fire pit. the cookies may not exactly scream mountain lodge-y but i assure you they are crucial 😉
This sucka would smell like James McAvoy (pre-“X-Men” Xavier baldness. That’s just a crime against humanity to cut off that mane.) snuggling with me under a blanket in my bed while a crackling fire burns and a steady, gentle rain taps on the tin roof. This sound, of course, would of course mix with the sound that naturally radiates off of Hugh Dancy, who would be acting as bodyguard-slash-snuggler-to-be-named-later. Oh, and Hugh’s sound would be like a chorus of angels.
It should smell like Michael Fassbender flashing me that wicked grin of his…and anything else he cares to flash 😉
The candle obviously smells like Richard Armitage, reading Pride and Prejudice, while feeding holding a plate of handmade chocolates for me to enjoy.
Well, considering that I just finished re-watching North & South, I’d like my candle to smell like Richard Armitage delicious face as he plants one of those kisses on me.
It smells like I’m stranded in a remote cabin in the woods with Tom Hiddleston & Charlie Hunnan & there’s only one sleeping bag for the three of us.
It would smell like Patrick Dempsey mixing up some margaritas then taking my pulse and checking my heart rate!
It smells like… Jason Momoa reading The Lord of the Rings to me while we’re lying in a little boat, drifting on the calm waters of a little Irish lake. Sometimes I’ll interrupt him to point out clouds that look like dragons and he’ll pretend to see it every time.
I like to imagine it smells like Jason Momoa and Joe Manganiello giving me a four-handed massage in front of a glowing fire.
It’s gotta smell like Tom Hiddleston reciting The Odyssey from memory as he brings me a blanket and pyjamas straight from the dryer.
it smells like beardy!chris coming in from ripping firewood – a la age of ultron – to see you’re watching the next episode of house of cards without him and he calls you that pet name he has for you and you blush because you know you were supposed to wait for him but he forgives you as you hand him a cup of coffee and he sits down and puts his feet on the ottoman and starts to play footsie with you…
I live a chris evans appreciation life.
Mark Wahlberg grilling us dinner for two.
Im envisioning 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
Oooh. I think it would smell like Charlie Cox with a beard, snuggling on the couch under a blanket while we talk about how awesome Stardust is and all the terrible pop music we love while his British accent charms me even further. *Sigh*
My boyfriend and me snuggled up at Deer Camp.
“You smell that? Take a deep breath through the nose. Really let that seep in. What are you getting? Because to me, that’s part man-smell, and the other part is really bad man-smell. I don’t know why, but overall it just smells like the color brown. Your thoughts?” – Flynn Rider
I bet it smells like being read to by Colin Firth in autumn, while Gemma Arterton plays with my hair, and Chris Evans brings us chilled sweet white whine. And I’m pretty sure Chris Pine is in the other room, picking out the movie we’re about to watch, and Jeremy Renner is in the kitchen with Zoe Saldana making popcorn.
It will smell like Sean Bean, just shrugging off his green Sharpe rifleman’s jacket after lifting me down from his horse and inviting me into his tent. He’ll ask me if I enjoyed the reenactment, and I’ll laugh and nod, and he’ll suggest “Scenes from Gondor” for next weekend’s excursion, and I’ll make him promise to stay well away from arrows for the duration.
After helping me out of my corset and skirts, we’ll both change into something more modern and comfortable, and go back out into the fields, dotted with identical tents and the first few campfires blazing to life as the sun begins to fade. The air will smell of a forest just after a rain, and after starting our own little fire, Sean will break out the hot chocolate and marshmallows, which we’ll roast while cuddling up on a fallen log and watching the fireflies flicker against the darkening sky. An only slightly muddy dog will join us, settling at Sean’s feet, and we’ll talk of Shakespeare, sculpture, and Sheffield United’s chances for their latest match until morning.
Yes, that’s definitely what those candles will smell like. *happysigh*
I have this candle. It is the Official Fragrance of the standing army of Alpha-shifter-Navy-seals in the Romancelandia Firefighter and Kitten-Rescuing Brigade. It is the scent that creates the Heroes of Romancelandia, not unlike the way the laughter of a child created Tinkerbell. This scent is present at the painful joy of childbirth when a woman in Romancelandia gives birth to the Chosen One of a four-book trilogy, and when the first rippling abs come forth in spring…
[…] also scored a candle that smells like Chris Evans for both myself and my writing partner because I AM THE BEST FRIEND EVAR, found out there is no […]