Cire Trudon made their name furnishing European monarchy with smokeless, odourless, carefully blanched candles that could be tinted to match the wallpaper. And they still do that. But you don’t have to be a half-ruined countess with a salon in a very tricky shade of damask to enjoy their wares. Their heavy, liturgical-looking candles—stamped with a red, Roman cameo—are a shelter mag staple and the Marie-Antoinette busts are full of deliciously cruel humour.
The scented candles come in somewhat sinister looking beetle-green jars and are calculated to smell like monasteries and palaces—Carmelite is our favorite. Most people never bother to go upstairs, which is a pity because there’s everything you’d need for an 18th century dinner party (Venetian mirrors, candelabra, candlesticks, and curiosities) at surprisingly reasonable prices. Also, check out the “Boules Puantes” (stink bombs): tiny glass vials of subtle fragrance designed to be smashed on terraces to perfume summer evenings.