This candle is a beautiful, basic vanilla candle. I really love it.
I had been craving a vanilla candle that had a true vanilla scent, was not overpowering, and could be burned for a long time without overwhelming the space. This candle checks all the boxes, so I thought it was worthy of your attention.
I’ve been on a mission for years now to reclaim vanilla as one of the great gifts to olfaction. Vanilla gets a bad rap, I think, because it’s ubiquitous and offends no one. Well, other than vanilla haters.
I think about vanilla in the context of our cultural tussle over being a “basic bitch” or loving basic things. How deep does it go? What does it mean to be a basic bitch? Is this simply an issue of using commercial goods to communicate identity? Or is it deeper than than? How much of this is rooted in misogyny?
When I think “basic” or “basic bitch,” I think of:
Pumpkin spice lattes (from Starbucks, obvs)
Leggings
Tall boots
Loving fall
Instagram
And you know, at different points in my life, I have loved all of those things. I also think of white, cis, het privileged women. Which, to be totally honest, describes me.
For a long time, I carried within me a narrative that I was “not like other girls.” It was a story that carried me through the hard, lonely years of my late 20s and early 30s, a time when I was living alone, my career was sputtering and gasping, and the future looked vaguely terrifying. I had finished graduate school with my PhD, but it was becoming increasingly clear to me that academic science was not a place where I would be able to flourish. I was also dating someone who was fundamentally unavailable for marriage or life-building.
To sustain the unsustainable totality of my life as a young female PhD, I convinced myself that it was all fine because I wasn’t like other women. I was ambivalent about having children, I didn’t wear makeup, I loved my alone time, I had no desire to plan a big wedding, I was fine dating someone who couldn’t build a life with me…except that last part was a total lie. I loved this unavailable man. He was good to me. But I desperately ached for a partner who was available, whose life had the space for something bigger that included me. And the truth is that having found that person, my person, set me free in profound and life-affirming ways.
Why do we fear or loathe being basic? Why do we want to be “not like other girls?” Other writers have written some great pieces about this phenomenon; I’ll link to their work below. I have a theory: choosing to be basic is choosing comfort. A woman who makes “basic” choices knows, deep in her heart, that the world is harsh and unforgiving. And so she makes choices about clothing and lattes and seasonal decorating that bring her comfort.
When I think about my own choices during times of high stress, I reach for familiar items: favorite book, sweater, blanket. Things I already own. I’m not open to the siren song of capitalism, always trying to sell us something new. A woman making “basic” choices is not a woman dropping coin on a bunch of stuff she may not need. She’s buying what she already uses and loves. She’s still participating in consumer culture, to be sure, but it’s in a very deliberate way. And in that sense, I’d say I actually aspire to be basic.
There’s a beautiful trope in the beauty community about “mom pans.” “Pan” is the bottom of a makeup product’s packaging, usually a compact. “Mom pan” is the state of having a large area of exposed pan, after the product has been removed from the compact by use. I think it got its name because for many people today, their moms have a small makeup bag and they will, for example, use a blush until it’s totally used up. A powder blush compact can have a huge mom pan for a long time before the product is totally used up. There is a lot of admiration for mom pan because it shows that a person has really used that product in a consistent way over time—months, even years. And I just love how everyone admires mom pan. We admire the commitment. Instead of using a product a few times and then chasing after the next shiny thing, mom pan shows dedication and confidence in one’s aesthetic choices.
To summarize, I think being basic is as much about where you shop as it is about your confidence in your choices. I love a quirky local shop as much as the next Austinite. I’ve spent many dollars on locally made candles. But sometimes I hit up the corporate chain store…and I love it. Isn’t it nice to not feel constrained by someone else’s judgment—or even your own judgment—when making a consumer choice? To feel free to do what feels right to you?
Set yourself free.
Product Details: White Barn Vanilla Bean 3-Wick Candle
Sold at Bath & Body Works
Price: $26.95 for a 14.5-ounce candle
PS Further reading!
* What We’re Really Afraid of When We Call Someone “Basic” by Anne Helen Peterson
* I’m a Basic Bitch and I Love It by Nikki Natividad