Dorinda Medley’s home, Bluestone Manor, is less a residence than a position. It smells, reportedly, of wood fires and expensive decisions, and the candle responsible for a significant portion of this atmospheric achievement is the Blue Hyacinth — a fragrance that manages to smell simultaneously of spring garden parties and the kind of old-money composure that doesn’t need to raise its voice.
At 8, this is the most accessible piece of Dorinda’s domestic mythology. One cannot replicate the Manor — the bone structure of that house belongs to another century — but one can light this candle and approximate, for the duration of a dinner party, the feeling of being somewhere with history. That is worth thirty-eight dollars. The Heiress burns it in the study. She has not told anyone this.
