Name that Bean!

Before my mid-year meltdown, I was on fire creatively speaking. I launched several themed Art Storefront (otherwise known as Threadless) collections, ranging from the whimsical macabre to the politically charged. Among these is my Name that Bean collection which, though it still features a full array of home goods and accessories via Threadless, launched with another product arm.

Each Bean design debuted paired with a coconut-apricot wax candle on Etsy via Printify. Now, it's important to state up front that I no longer sell these candles. I may eventually bring them back if demand ever justifies it, but they were among my myriad failures to launch. Nevertheless, I obviously found them worthy as a gag collector's item or I wouldn't have attempted the line in the first place.

See, I have a peculiar sense of humor. It's a heady mix of cringe puns and high-brow and gutter jokes and gallows cliches that produces these odd, misshapen ideas like the one that started the entire collection. The first Bean to drop is the worst Bean of them all. The other Bean puns played off of their candles and concepts, but the Baked Bean leans hard into the stoner stereotype with sea salt, patchouli, and a Bean with blood-shot eyes in a cloud of semi-transparent smoke.

This candle's scent may not scream "ranch," but its composition resembles the cologne brand Stetson, which is also a brand of cowboy-style hat. Seriously. The hat was the whole joke, and I didn't place it right. Why? Constant interruptions. Poor discipline. Too much baked in my Bean-making. Oh, well.

The Cool Bean is a hipster stereotype, because cool beans were Beans before it was cool. I warned you I was cringy with the puns, friend. Anyway, the candle's smell was the most popular fruit in the world, paired with two complementary scents that turn it into a smoothie-like concoction of fragrance.

The Jelly Bean plays off the scent more than any other in the series. Blackberry notes translate to indigo, with ripe plum represented most broadly with various shades of medium purples. Lighter lavender vanilla acts as a counterbalance to the sharp, heavy fruit fragrances and darker design elements.

The Green Bean is pretty self-explanatory, from the color to the peacenik glasses to the forest scent. If there's something about this one that you're struggling with, let me know in the comments and I'll happily explain to the best of my ability. I may be missing language barriers or something similar.

The Navy Bean is a straight up pun, based on the foodstuffs and the color and the occupation. Bergamot and lavender call to mind shades of purple and blue, which leads to Navy Blue, then to Navy, then Navy Bean. The cute little sailor outfit is jaunty.

Cooler than cool, the Chili Bean is ice cold, literally. With a fragrance all about a sweet tooth, the semi-transparent Bean is caked with snow and icicles. Inspired both by the pairing of ice cream with the fragrance components and the word "chilly," this pun is simultaneously complex and stunningly stupid.

Inspired by a certain famous musical number involving a mouse, the Magic Bean lends a literary nod to Jack and the Beanstalk as well. With these in mind, I chose the candle scented with warm spices that feel like a safe nook to read in, a hot cup of tea, and the fruit-laden branches of an orange tree freezing sour.

The final candle is the unscented Clean Bean variety, a control of sorts and not so much a pun as a rhyme and a reference to a legendary tumblr thread and the art-world beef it references between Stuart Semple, Anish Kapoor, and Kapoor's Chicago sculpture, Cloud Gate. This was my pièce de résistance as far as high-brow humor for the series.