October Slow Study — What Is Worth Making?
There is something about this time of the year that makes warmth and light feel a little more special.
Autumn brings the desire to make our spaces feel warmer and cozier. Diwali brings the glow of lamps and candles into our homes, while Halloween brings its own kind of atmosphere, with soft lights, shadows and flickering flames.
I thought candle-making would be a lovely way to begin October’s Slow Study.
I imagined choosing colours, experimenting with fragrances and creating something beautiful with my own hands. It seemed like the perfect practice to explore during a month that already felt connected to warmth and light.
Then, while looking for the supplies I needed, I had a thought.
What if I just bought a candle instead?
It would be easier. I could choose the one I liked, bring it home and light it that evening.
Instead, I was looking at wax, fragrance oils, colours, moulds and vessels, trying to figure out what I needed before I could even begin.
And I hadn’t made a single candle yet.
That was when this month’s question started to feel a little more real.
What makes something worth making yourself when buying it is so much easier?
Why I Wanted to Make a Candle
I wasn’t looking to start a candle-making business or add another hobby to my list.
I wanted to try making something.
There is a particular appeal in seeing the things we use every day differently. A candle is a fairly ordinary object. We buy one, light it when we want a little warmth or atmosphere, and eventually it burns away.
But what would it be like to make one from scratch?
I was curious about the process. I wanted to see how the different materials came together, how the fragrance and colour would affect the result, and whether I could create something that looked the way I imagined.
There was also the simple pleasure of making something with my hands.
Of course, I could have bought a beautiful candle in a few minutes. But buying one wouldn’t answer the question I was curious about.
Could I make one myself?
So I decided to find out.
The Cost of Getting Started
Before making anything, there was the matter of buying the supplies.
Soy wax, vessels, moulds, colours and fragrances. Each item seemed reasonable enough on its own, but the list grew as I started thinking about all the things I wanted to try.
I didn’t want to make just one plain candle. I was already imagining different colours, shapes and fragrances.
And that meant buying more than I needed for a single attempt.
It was difficult to compare the growing list of supplies with the price of a finished candle. After all, the whole point of buying something is that someone else has already done the work.
They have figured out the process, sourced the materials and made the finished product available to you.
All you have to do is choose.
Making it yourself is different. Before you have anything to show for your effort, you have to invest in the materials, learn the process and accept that your first attempt might not turn out as expected.
I found myself wondering whether the experience would justify the expense.
I didn’t have an answer yet.
I had only bought the supplies, and now I had to do something with them.
My First Candle: Figuring Things Out as I went
Having the supplies was one thing. Actually making the candle was another.
I had no thermometer to guide me, which meant I wasn’t entirely sure about the temperature of the wax or the right moment to add the fragrance.
I had questions before I even started pouring.
Was the wax ready? Should I add the fragrance now? Was the colour right? Would everything turn out the way I expected?
I wanted the candle to look good, but I was still learning what I was doing.
Eventually, I poured the wax into the glass vessel and waited for it to set.
There is something interesting about the waiting period. Once the wax is poured, there isn’t much you can do except let it cool and see what happens.
I had done the part that felt like making. Now I had to wait for the result.
When I looked at the candle, I noticed lines in the glass where the wax had pulled away as it cooled. They weren’t what I had imagined when I started.
It wasn’t a perfect first candle.
But it was a candle I had made.
That distinction felt worth noticing.
I could see where the experiment had worked and where the result differed from what I had pictured. I had something tangible to look at, rather than an idea of something I might make someday.
And, perhaps more importantly, I now had a better idea of what I wanted to try next.
Enjoying this little experiment?
I’m exploring one ordinary practice each month, paying attention to what happens when I slow down and try something for myself.
If you’d like to follow along, subscribe to The Slowly Letter for new experiments, honest notes and small discoveries from Slowly Curated.
One practice. One month. A little more attention.
Was it Worth Making?
I still could have bought a candle.
It would have saved me the time spent researching supplies, figuring out the process and worrying about whether I was doing things correctly.
It might even have looked better than the one I made.
But I would have missed the experience of making it.
I wouldn’t have known what it felt like to work with the wax, how much I would question the timing, or how it felt to see the finished candle for the first time.
None of that automatically make the handmade candle better than a purchased one.
And I don’t think it has to.
There are things I would happily buy rather than make. Sometimes convenience matters more. Sometimes I don’t want another project, another set of supplies or another afternoon spent figuring something out.
But there are other things I might want to make simply because I am curious about the process.
Perhaps the value isn’t always in producing something cheaper, better or more beautiful than what is already available.
Perhaps sometimes it is in discovering what goes into making it.
I haven’t decided whether candle-making is something I would do regularly. I’ve only made my first candle, and there is still so much I haven’t tried.
But I’m beginning to understand that the question isn’t necessarily whether making something is better than buying it.
It’s whether making this particular thing worth the time, effort and attention it asks of me.
And I think the answer might be different for every person, and even different for the same person at different times.
One candle Down, More to Explore
My first candle was only the beginning.
I still have wax, colours and fragrances to experiment with. I want to try different shapes and see what happens when I move beyond a simple glass vessel.
My next experiment is a bubble candle, with an ombré effect that gradually shifts from one shade to another.
I have an idea of how I want it to look.
Whether it turns out the way is another question.
For now, I’m happy to keep experimenting. Not because everything I make needs to become something worth keeping, but because I want to see what happens when I give the process a little more attention.
October’s Slow Study is about asking what is worth making.
I don’t think I’ll find one answer that applies to everything. But perhaps, by the end of the month, I’ll have a better understanding of what makes me want to make something in the first place.
And what makes me decide that buying it is perfectly fine, too.
What about you?
Is there something you enjoy making even though you could easily buy it instead?
I’d love to know what it is.
Until the next experiment,
Slowly Curated
Slow living, one month at a time.
