I have a confession to make.

I love things that smell good.

For most people, this wouldn't be a problem. For me, though? It's hell.

Why? Because of the other half of my confession: I am allergic to -everything-.

I can't count the number of times I've had to hold my breath as I dash through the grocery store, or how many rooms I've had to leave because someone decided to douse themselves in cheap perfume before leaving the house. I have to carefully vet every product that makes it through my door. It's to the point where I make my own LAUNDRY SOAP so that my own clothes won't send me dashing for an inhaler.

At the end of the day, though, I love things that smell good.

And this candle? Smells amazing.

Not only that: I can breathe.

I honestly would probably be happy with this candle if it did nothing but sit there and smell good in a pretty container, and that's saying something for me. But JimmyJane has gone above simply smelling amazing.

In my mind, the conversation probably went something like this:

"This smells heavenly. I want to roll around in it."
"Hey! That's a good idea!"

And thus, massage candles.

In reality, it probably went nothing like that, but I've never been one to let pesky things like reality keep me down. (I'm writing this review at two in the morning after far too much far too sweet coffee. Can you tell?)

What I love about this as a massage candle is that it actually works amazingly for massage. The included booklet suggests trimming the wick down to a fourth of an inch and letting the candle burn for half an hour, then extinguishing the flame before pouring the oil.

Despite the admittedly gorgeous design of the container, I found the oil awkward to pour. It tends to come out quicker than I would like, and I find that it dribbles down the side of the container. Because this is undeniably expensive for massage oil, I suggest doing your pouring over the back of the intended recipient. (And if you light this candle with the intention of using the product on someone other than yourself, you are a better man than I.)

As for the viscosity, it's about what I'd expect from a massage candle. The mixture of jojoba, shea butter, vitamin E and aloe is wonderfully softening and glorious on the skin, and the consistency doesn't differ much from other massage oil I've used.

You need to keep in mind the fact that this oil is made to reconsolidate back into a candle after half an hour. If it does it in the jar, it will to some extent do it on your skin.

This means that there is a faint residue left behind. It's lightly waxy, but I only really notice it if I'm looking for it and it's nothing that makes me feel the need for a shower afterward.

There are a lot of expectations walking into a candle with as sensual and daring a name as 'absinthe + sugarwater', and I found that it delivered in ways other than I expected.

Does it smell like absinthe? To me, not really. Does it smell like sugar water? Again, not really.

Does it smell amazing?

Absolutely.

The scent is strong and bracing out of the box to my nose, and the first impression of something sharp and citrus made me think initially of laundry soap. After the candle had time to mellow and my nose had time to adjust, though, the complexity of the scent started to come through. There's something undeniably clean and crisp about the top notes, but underneath there's a subtle woodiness that skips oak and dirt entirely in favor of clinging closer to the warmth of sandalwood or amber.

I've found that candles always smell different when burned, and it was no different with this. The clean-burning wick didn't offer soot or unpleasantness in the way that some cheap wicks will, but the oil itself reacted to the heat. The almost sharp notes of the top mellowed, and the wood came through clearer. It changed from a scent that I found interesting if bracing into something hedonistic.

And, like with all things, it changes on the skin.

For me, I find that it turns into a darker scent entirely when it mixes with my body chemistry. Hints of something deeper come out, much like the subtle way a tea will come into full expression when treated with the care that it deserves. Unlike tea, though, it's not suitable for consumption. I taste-tested a small amount for the review, and found I much prefer it on my skin instead of on my tongue.

Sitting as an unlit candle, it's a scent that will fill a room. When lit, it offers a subtler but deeper experience to those nearby. When used for massage, I wake up the next morning to the smell of it on my skin, and it lingers until I decide to wash it off.

Part of why I finally gave in and got one of these candles was my fascination with the idea as a whole. You light a wonderfully-scented candle, enjoy the sensuality of the flame and the slow changes to the scent, then you get a massage. It sounds like a perfect package.

And, honestly, it is.

For use as a massage oil, I won't argue that this is the best out there. You can probably find better in something that is intended solely for massage, and it's definitely more suited to bedroom massage than to an hour-long intense session.

Where it shines, though, is in bedroom use. There's a thick, sensual feel to it that makes you want to run your hands through it. It glides into skin, oil soaking in instead of hovering on top, and the friction and warmth keeps the oil liquid and pliable. The half-hour time for it to turn solid again makes it easy to reapply as needed (generally once in a massage in our experience), and the use of flame to melt it means that the oil is lightly warmed.

My only complaints about the performance are that the spout could have been better thought out, and that at times the candle has issues melting entirely to the edge.

The ceramic candle comes well-insulated in a thick cardboard packaging, and a thin plastic cover keeps the scent locked in. I didn't like that a full-time cover wasn't provided, but the solidity of the packaging, the stability of the ceramic container (I'm already thinking for uses when the oil is all gone) and the thoroughness of the pamphlet make up for it.

It's not obviously a sex toy, but there is some wording in the pamphlet that would make me hesitate to give this as a gift to someone very conservative in the original packaging. I'll include the quotes that make me hesitate, because I know with the holidays coming up this is a prime gift for those of us shopping for those we don't feel comfortable gifting sex toys to.

"Jimmyjane is a design-centric brand founded on the belief that life is better with a sexy twist. We design products and experiences to provide pleasure, strengthen connection, and create provocative possibility."

"Oil is intended for external use only and is not intended for use as a lubricant."

"...blow it out and playfully drizzle the oil on your lucky accomplice."

"Drizzle the warm oil onto the body to excite the senses."

"...you'll have plenty of time to perfect your technique."


It's not outside of what I'd expect from sensual branding in today's world, but I figured that it was worth mentioning for those who want a distinctly non-sexual gift.