Making the Dad Grass Classic Scented Candle has been a labor of love for me and the rest of the Dad Grass team. I personally love how certain scents can instantly transport me to another time and place, maybe one I’ve experienced before, maybe one I’ve only dreamed of.
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So when we started working on our first candle, I knew that the scent needed to encapsulate the Dad Grass world that lived in my head, even if that vision was as much an aspiration as it was a reality. Sure, we’re a weed brand so the sweet smell of mary jane had to be a part of it. But that wasn’t going define it.
I would love for you to pick up one of these candles and take this trip for yourself. Because, well, scents are as hard to describe as the good times we often associate with them. But if you want to “try before you by” or you’re just not a candle sort of gal or guy, I wrote up a little visualization that should help you get a sense of what we’re going for. Check it out:
Imagine as an adolescent you're visiting your uncle for the weekend, there's a back house, with a shed attached to it, and it'a place that you're not really supposed to be. But he's your uncle and you know he's pretty cool and he's got some cool shit in there so you sneak away and go to check things out. It's on a semi rural property and you're stepping over felled trees and dry pine needles. you pass the woodshed and get a whiff of chopped wood curing for the winter. That wood smell is dry and sharp. And you get that very specific metallic smell of old steel tools as you crack open the shed for a peak. And of course, somewhat concerningly, the old diesel can for the generator, wafts its petrol smell right to you. You've never had the inclination to be a huffer to escape reality, but damn if it didn't smell good.
You finally decide to go for it and enter the back room that you know your uncle and dad spent a lot of time in. It's old and worn, but not in disrepair. Like a banister at an old hotel that has been worn smooth from years of use. That old house smell hits you as soon as you open the door. They all have the same scents but each one is unique. There's antique wool rugs on the floor, the furniture is a combination of warm leather and wood, with an upholstered chair that is threadbare with lumpy springs. A few old musty sarape blankets that somehow remind you of the beach are folded in the corner. As you sit on the couch you start to acclimate to the other notes of the room. The paperbacks and the sleeves of the record collection. Dry, with a touch of sweetness that you can only imagine comes from the way that paper used to be made, whatever that means.
As you're poking around, you find it…a wooden box that you know has the good stuff in it. As you open it up, you see the faded bandana and unwrap it's contents. It's fresher and danker than you expected. You raise it up in its full glory and inhale deeply: Pine, clove, tea leaves, a touch of diesel, and a slight, almost strawberry-like fruitiness. You're impressed. You look down and realize there's half of a roach left in an ashtray and you catch a whiff of the dry resin. You think to yourself “what the hell?” and strike a match, take a puff, and watch the smoke plume and twist into still air of the room.
- Ben Starmer, Co-Founder
