Here’s What Your Favorite Restaurant Bathroom Candle Says About You

Are you a Santal 26 person? Or maybe Mrs. Meyer’s Clean Day? Your favorite bathroom scent says a lot about you (for better and for worse).
Illustration of a man following a track of candles leading to a restroom
Illustration by Simon Bailly / Sepia

All products are independently selected by our editors. If you buy something, we may earn an affiliate commission.

The discovery of fire inarguably changed the course of humanity. It allowed our ancestors to cook their food, guard against predators, and play their hominid songs on acoustic guitars late into the night. But that important discovery is, of course, now best known for the role it played in one of our species’ greatest inventions: the restaurant bathroom candle.

Restaurant bathroom candles offer a fragrant moment of peace to those briefly escaping an awkward date or dodging the check at a group dinner. They cover up unmentionable smells and play an important part in helping one figure out what a restaurant is all about. They aid in answering important questions: What is the restaurant’s vibe? Who are the desired clientele? How much money does the restaurant allocate to its bathroom candle budget—and is that why a single glass of wine costs $29? Less discussed, though, is what a restaurant's bathroom candle says about you, the diner who has chosen it as your favorite.

So without further ado, here is a collection of commonly spotted restaurant bathroom candles, and what they say about the people who love them most.

The “Sticks to Drunk Plans” Diner

Mrs. Meyer’s Clean Day: Lemon Verbena

You don’t understand why your friends don’t want to get brunch. Last night when you brought it up at Jessica’s bachelorette party, you could have sworn a few of them said they were in, but now no one’s answering your texts. Hello?! As your friends, they should understand that you need an early afternoon hot honey and buttermilk fried chicken sando on a homemade biscuit, consumed in a brightly lit space. You crave clean white walls, a fresh but affordable Mrs. Meyers’s scent wafting from the bathroom, and nonthreatening plant decor. It is urgent that you order an orange juice, a coffee, a water, and a Bloody Mary, then photograph them all to share online with the caption “my brunch bevs!” Is solo brunch a thing? Ugh…no. You’re getting desperate. Maybe you’ll try calling your friends; if they’re sleeping, you’re sure they’d want to wake up for ricotta pancakes with blueberry-lemon compote and a side of bacon and, why not, a pastry basket for the table—oh, wait, also bottomless mimosas.

Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day: Lemon Verbena


The “Likes a Funky Wine” Diner

Keap: Wood Cabin

Which of the orange wines is your favorite? (That’s you, practicing what you’re going to ask the server later.) Which of the oranges is your favorite? You weren’t a big wine person before you discovered natural wine, but now it’s all you drink, and all you talk about. You know as well as anyone that a funky natural wine’s perfect pairing—in addition to a collection of small plates that, when shared among a group, will never really add up to a full meal for anyone except your friend who took most of the protein (yes, you noticed)—is a candle that smells like an autumnal hearth and communicates almost affordable rustic luxury. Let it soothe you while you hide in the bathroom to escape the dreaded question: Hey, what makes a wine “natural,” anyway? (If you were to guess, you’d assume it’s something like, um, foraged grapes?)

Keap: Wood Cabin


The “Living Like It’s 2015” Diner

Le Labo: Santal 26

New York City is alive, baby! Why do some people insist on saying it’s dead? You have no idea, because since you moved here six months ago, wandering around SoHo has never failed to get you absolutely amped. You are just pulsing with the life force that is New York City. You don’t care that your favorite restaurant hasn’t been known as “the hot spot” in over a decade. It’s still hot to you, and you’re happy its bathroom candle matches your chosen perfume (Santal 33) almost exactly. Finally, a place where you belong: New York City!

Le Labo: Santal 26


The “Will Ghost You for a Better Reservation” Diner

Byredo: Bibliothèque

For you, life is a constant struggle between wanting to be perceived as in the know, and not wanting anyone else to find out what is cool right now. Here’s a question, for example: When you take a bathroom selfie at the new cool restaurant, do you tag your location? Or is it better to leave your followers breathlessly guessing where you might be; what sort of place has this gorgeous bathroom lighting, which fashionable eatery has eschewed the common luxury of Diptyque for the chicer and more expensive Byredo, which smells like a fancy library? You’ll never tell. Or wait, actually—maybe you will tell. Yeah, screw it; you’re tagging the restaurant and Byredo.

Byredo: Bibliothèque


The “Would Like a Small Stool for Their Handbag” Diner

Trudon: Abd El Kader (Size: “Great”)

You’re interested in the tasting menu, yes, but the wine pairings look a bit generic—might the sommelier come over to discuss and craft an alternate wine pairing for each course catered to your taste and curiosities? That would be lovely, thank you. In the meantime you’ll be in the bathroom stashing free toiletries in your pockets and admiring the $660 Trudon candle. (Funnily enough, it’s the same one you have in your powder room at home!)

Trudon: Abd El Kader (Size: “Great”)


The “Restaurant Owner”

Unscented white votive candle

You are bereft. You have given up. As a restaurant owner, you are tired of having to replace your stolen scented candles. You’ve tried time and again to communicate the status of your restaurant via brazenly displayed luxury candles in the bathroom, and time and again you have been “burned,” so to speak. How do people smuggle out something that was on fire only moments ago? Like with so many of life’s evils, you do not understand; you merely know it to be true. Well, you hope they’re happy now. Go ahead and take this unscented white votive candle, jerks. You bought a pack of 400!

Unscented white votive candle