Vanilla Sky

A warm fever pitch, swirling vanilla clouds, a peach-flavoured cocktail, the balmy breeze of paradise, a Mapplethorpe flower, elegant, depraved and frozen in time, a night that you don’t want to end.

A warm shock to the system, honey-coloured light, a red-apple heart with an electric synth beat, violet eyes, a utopia for misfits, wallflowers in bloom, almond tree blossoms on a crisp autumn night.

The tongue twist of a maraschino stem, sweet stained lips, cherry cream pie, milky waves of cumulous clouds, bourbon vanilla icing, a silky confection, an insatiable craving, a dessert of debauchery and glamour.

A saffron glow, eye contact and melting honey, amber spotlights and hot pepper, shimmering sweat and pressed mouths, the taste of chocolate and free love, a fleeting moment that feels colossal.

Whipped cream foam, a suede jacket, the scent of cedar, blood orange, the lyrics burn-baby-burn as your heart floats in a fluffy vanilla sky, the night you fall in love in the Meatpacking District.

Three legendary clubs that thrived in the 1980s, brought together in this candle trio to transport you back to their decade.