Holiday Highball Is The Eggnog Candle That Flirts Back

If your December routine smells like pine clichés and sugar cookie déjà vu, let me stir the punch. The Kobo Holiday Highball Candle leans full cocktail mode, and it is not shy about it. Think velvet eggnog in a coupe glass, the clink of ice, someone winking from across the room. It is the rare holiday scent that actually feels like a party instead of a potpourri aisle.

On first light I get creamy custard layered with a boozy glow, the kind of rum-vanilla warmth that sits low and slow. Nutmeg leads, with a soft dusting of clove and maybe a whisper of cinnamon. Crucially, it stays away from that plasticky frosting effect that kills so many winter gourmands. This reads like drinkable dessert, not bakery chaos.

Throw sits in the medium to generous range in my space. It filled a small living room within twenty minutes and drifted nicely down the hall without bulldozing the senses. If you burn it during a gathering, it plays well with clinking glasses and actual food, which is rarer than it should be in holiday home fragrance. I like it most in the hour before guests arrive, when the room needs a mood shift from weekday to velvet rope.

Who will love it: gourmand fans, cocktail-hour romantics, anyone who wants their home to flirt rather than lecture. Who might pass: pine loyalists and spice maximalists hunting for chest-thumping cinnamon.

There is a touch of mischief here that I appreciate. The candle doesn’t aim for cozy nostalgia, it aims for cheeky glamour. It makes the room feel dressed, like you put on lipstick just to watch a black-and-white film and pour something amber over ice.

Practical note. You can find Kobo’s Holiday Highball Candle at Smallflower for around $32.50, which lands it in that sweet-spot gift tier. Trim the wick, keep burns to a couple of hours, and let the wax pool reach the edges so you avoid tunneling. Paired with low light and real glasses, it turns even a Tuesday into a midnight toast.

File this under holidays with a pulse. Not wholesome. Not nostalgic. Just delicious.