Everyday I think, “What am I going to name these candle sleeves?” Today I sat at my desk and studied thesaurus.com and dictionary.com cross-referencing Google, of course. I started with the obvious: candle sleeve, candle cover, chandelier parts. I wanted to better understand the language of these objects and the industry. I brainstormed with Kristin, my better half from 9 to 5. She was adamant that these must be thought of as fashion for light fixtures, suggesting the title evoke jewelry. ‘Candle cuff’ was a winner in my book. I googled it and there is a store in South Carolina selling decorative glass votives with this exact moniker. Candle Cuff also described a candy cane bracelet for a pillar candle. When I ran ‘candle cuff’ past a friend she said that she immediately thought of country crafts, which is exactly what the current products bearing this title are! ‘Chandy candy’ was Kristin’s favorite. I didn’t like this and, thankfully, there is a blog with this name. Finally, I thought. “English just isn’t working for my beloved candle covers.” I immediately went to babelfish and typed in ‘candle’ and noted the translation in a host of languages. Next I did the same with ‘cover’ followed by ‘sleeve’. I knew from my time on dictionary.com that sleeve was the more correct word. Sleeve as defined by the dictionary is “a protective tube fitting over or enclosing another tube.” The candle sleeve is the protective tube fitting over and enclosing the socket. The best translations for ‘candle’ and ‘sleeve’ were both Dutch: kaars (candle) koker (sleeve). I emailed my German girlfriend who lives in London assuming she had a Dutch friend. She confirmed that she did and passed my question of the legitimacy of kaars and koker in this context. The next day, I received a very positive email regarding ‘kaars koker’. Pronounced “cars coker”, right? And so became the infamous kaarsKoker- jewelry for generic light fixtures.

I am a traditional minimalist: I love fabric and prints, but use them sparingly.  Adding an additional layer to the interiors in the form of candle sleeves was important because I felt this was an unexplored area of decoration.  Customization with such a seemingly small detail was consistent with my aesthetic of spare interiors full of pattern and color.  In my own house there were areas with light fixtures and no art.  The candle sleeves instantly made a simple wall with only a light fixture something much more distinct.  Additionally, these candle sleeves brought my beloved traditional light fixtures into the 21st century.

The first prototypes of the candle sleeves arrived.  Not only was I anxious to see how the colors turned out but also the various finish options.  Most of the colors translated from digital file through printing beautifully.  Browns, reds and greens- turned out- were tricky because the finish also affects this range of colors.  While samples were an expensive step in the process, it was crucial to successfully select the dozens of other colorways. Specifying a carpet for clients requires the same up front cost: If the yarn doesn’t take the dye just as it did in the sample and you based an entire room around it, you’re screwed. So it was worth the upfront investment!  The final colors both for solid and the multi-colored patterns were simply taken from objects in my home (see aPa portfolio ‘Madison Park Lakeside’): lamps, rugs, paintings.  My home is draped almost entirely in shades of blue so I turned to magazine pages I saved for years filed under ‘COLOR’ for ideas.  Combining shades of magenta with goldenrod and turquoise may seem obvious, but it was hard to pull out of thin air when selecting  colors  for over 90 patterns.  From time to time, we all need directed inspiration.  I worked for weeks to create the entire palette for my unique candle sleeves, and, finally, the decorative candle covers have all been submitted to the printer.

I raided my in-laws ‘library’ and began scanning 19th and early 20th century book jackets.  I loved the instant texture and history these designs provided.  While color and pattern were important, finding a 4” square usable scan of the designs in these old books became a factor.  In the end, the imperfections expressed the history of the book and I embraced the perfection only age can bring.  The other patterns were taken from and inspired by my time as an architectural history student.  My thinking was that a new product needs classical motifs so the product will immediately resonate or seem familiar.  It was easier to connect to a ‘new’ product if the eyes and the mind were introduced to the new through the old, no?  Narrowing down the motifs required that I scanned and printed the pattern, cut it out, wrap it around the candle chandelier tube and look at it on my kitchen chandelier, an 8-arm early American piece.  Some of my chandelier candle cover designs were instant winners, others needed to be reduced in size to successfully scale the light fixture, but I was surprised at how terrible one of my favorite patterns looked—it just did not complement the fixture.  Finalizing the patterns was not nearly as hard as choosing the colors.  With a Pantone wheel in hand, I worked for DAYS to select the right yellow, green, blue, red.  I submitted 3 solids and 2 patterns of the candle sleeve to the printer to see what was lost/gained in the printing process.