Our story — Meet Jennifer
Before Prism Wares, I spent 15 years in professional kitchens, mostly in Melbourne and Sydney. I trained as a chef, then worked my way up to head chef at a South Melbourne bistro. Later, I ran the kitchen at a small Surry Hills restaurant. Some of my fondest memories are of suppliers: the roofer-turned-apricot farmer near Mildura, the mushroom grower in Woodend who always sent extra porcini. I got to know their operations inside out — what worked, what didn’t, the whole dance of making something from scratch.
Like a lot of hospitality people, I burned out. When COVID hit in 2020, it gave me a reason to pause. The restaurant I was cooking at closed, and I didn’t go back. I spent some time rethinking what I wanted to do, whether it was staying in hospitality at all. What I realised was that the part I missed most was working with suppliers. I didn’t miss service tickets or late nights, but I couldn’t shake the instinct to put beautiful things together.
Prism Wares started small in 2022, with just one product. An old wine supplier in Orange had introduced me to a glassmaker there, and we worked on a vase design they could produce. I used part of my redundancy payout to fund the first batch of 200 vases. They sold out at the Marrickville Makers Market within two weekends. Seeing the response, I leaned into it. I contacted more suppliers I’d stayed in touch with, from a soy wax producer in Taree to a leather tannery in Victoria. The range grew organically from there, one practical item at a time.
These days, we run things from a small workshop in Marrickville. It’s mostly me packing orders, with a couple of part-timers helping stitch up journals or pour candles. Every time I pick up a new batch of glassware or leather covers, I remember why I started this: to collaborate with makers who care about their craft, and to create things that people will actually use.
— Thanks for reading, hope to see you around — Jennifer, Jennifer Lee Segail
Journal
The Story Behind Our Kakadu Plum Serum
Kakadu plum isn't just a trendy ingredient — sourcing it drew me into an unexpected collaboration with groves in the NT.
When I first started formulating the Kakadu Plum Facial Serum, I was set on sourcing the plums locally, which narrowed things down pretty quickly. There’s only one place they grow naturally — northern Australia. In my old chef life, Kakadu plum was sometimes used to punch up a granita or dressing, but it was more novelty than staple. Now, I see it differently.
I ended up working with a small family-run operation near Humpty Doo in the Northern Territory. They harvest Kakadu plums at dawn in January, before the heat gets unbearable. I had a proper chat with Amy Jin, who runs the grove, and she mentioned 2023 had been a tough season with only 60% of their usual yield.
I liked the simplicity of the product. There’s no fancy machinery involved — once picked, the plums are cold-processed into a pulp within 24 hours. That pulp, super tart and slightly earthy, is then transported to Sydney. From there, we distil it down for the serum base.
The irony isn’t lost on me that I used to be obsessed with imported ingredients — yuzu, black truffle, Spanish saffron. Now, I get excited about the humblest native foods. Kakadu plum’s vitamin C content is off the charts, sure, but it’s also got this quiet resilience to it that I admire.
I’m not one to romanticise suppliers, but there’s something grounding about knowing exactly where your ingredients come from. Seeing real people grow, pick, and ship what’s in your bottle changes how you approach it. That connection feels more important now than ever.
Yes, Soy Candles Make Sense in Summer
Candles aren't just for cold winters — eucalyptus scents pair perfectly with hot Sydney nights and breezy verandahs.
The other night, I lit one of our Eucalyptus Soy Candles in the courtyard at home. It’s something people don’t think to do in the warmer months — candles get typecast as winter props. But eucalyptus has this fresh, green quality that feels ridiculously appropriate when you’re sitting under gum trees or catching that distinct Sydney summer breeze.
Here’s my tip: burn it while you’re hosting a barbecue. It’s subtle enough not to clash with food aromas but still gives the table (or balcony, in my case) a bit of atmosphere. I timed the burn last week during a long dinner — one candle lasted just over 30 hours. Not bad for something that’s by no means industrial-grade.
It helps that soy wax has a cleaner burn compared to paraffin. It’s less smoky, which makes a big difference if you’re in a small outdoor space. Plus, fewer drips. One less mess to think about, right?
I first came up with the eucalyptus blend with a perfumer based out of Leichhardt. We wanted something a bit more Australian than the usual vanilla or spice route everyone goes for. Turns out, it pairs well with every season — but it truly shines in summer, when all those fresh bush notes feel most alive.
So if you’ve got an outdoor dinner or picnic planned anytime soon, give it a try. Candles don’t have to wait for gloomier weather. Sometimes the most natural settings bring out their best side.
The Bamboo Picnic Set in Surry Hills Parks
From Prince Alfred to Sydney Park, here's why I keep the Bamboo Picnic Set on hand for casual gatherings.
A friend left our Bamboo Picnic Set in their car after a park hang. When they returned it, they said they’d been using it nonstop. Fair enough — it’s lightweight, easy on the eye, and you can’t exactly fit breakable porcelain into a tote. I keep mine under the kitchen bench, ready to pack at a moment’s notice.
This summer, it’s become my default whenever I head to Sydney Park — or even smaller spots like Hollis Park in Newtown. No one wants to lug heavy crates or deal with disposable cutlery flimsiness. The set fits four people easily: plates, tumblers, and proper utensils. It doesn’t feel like a compromise, either.
One practical thing: bamboo fibre holds up well to salad dressings and sauces. No warping or stubborn stains, even after the third time I subjected it to my tomato-heavy pasta salad. It’s machine washable, though I tend to just rinse mine in the sink after use.
The material’s not indestructible, but it’s been through enough tumbles out of bags to convince me it’s park-proof. For context, mine’s survived about five outings at Bicentennial Park this January alone. If it makes it through my clumsiness, it’s doing alright.
If you’ve been doing more picnics lately, or just trying to get outside when the weather allows, I can confirm it beats anything wrapped in plastic. Half the joy is in having something reusable that you never have to second guess.
Why the Aurora Vase Has Rounded Edges
Designing a crystal vase isn’t just about how it looks — function, balance, and practicality matter even more.
When I first saw the sketches for the Aurora Crystal Glass Vase, I had questions. Why rounded edges? Why not something angular, sharp, or more sculptural? Our glassmaker, Tomás, told me this: sharp vases tend to topple. Turns out, physics dictates aesthetics more than you’d think.
The wide base of the Aurora vase anchors it, but the curved edges make it less likely to chip. That’s particularly crucial with handblown crystal, which takes three people to shape while molten. It’s this mix of durability and simplicity I wanted — something functional enough to hold a dozen roses but elegant with just two stems.
In testing, I actually overfilled one with water and left it overnight on a wooden surface. No leaks, no stress. The polish on the rim also matters, as rough edges ruin the whole feel when you’re arranging flowers.
The vase pairs beautifully with natives — banksias, proteas, anything with a bit of structure. I did a bunch with kangaroo paw last week for a dinner setup. If you want something more delicate, freesias or tulips sit nicely too, though I’d still recommend trimming stems short.
It’s funny. In hospitality, plating was everything. Now, it’s vases. Both are about how you frame the main act. And just like a perfectly plated dish, the Aurora doesn’t need to scream for attention to stand out.
First Cool Nights in Marrickville
The temperature dropped below 14 degrees last night, so naturally, I leaned into it with a candle and red wine.
Winter in Marrickville always sneaks up on me. One day, you’re sweating through a humid afternoon. The next, you’re pulling out jumpers from wherever they’ve been hiding since September. Last night, it dropped to 13 degrees, and I caved — eucalyptus soy candle lit, shiraz unboxed.
There’s something about the first properly cool night that feels ceremonial. Distinct from deep winter, it’s still got the possibility of warm days ahead, but evenings like this are for pausing. I stayed at the table long after dinner, watching the candle flicker against the window reflection.
Eucalyptus isn’t a wintery scent by nature, but in this context, it worked. There’s a bit of brightness to it that balances out the red wine heaviness. If you’re wondering, the wine was from Orange, NSW — 2021 vintage. Black pepper, cherries, a bit of smokiness.
By July, I’ll probably be complaining about the cold, but for now, this is the sweet spot. Gum trees outside are shedding, and the chill in the air makes the heater seem too extreme just yet. These early shifts in seasons always catch me in a good mood.
Maybe it’s the novelty. Maybe it’s just the wine. Either way, the candle was a good call. It echoed something about that half-winter, half-autumn sense of pause outside.
How We Pour Our Eucalyptus Candles
Making soy candles isn’t glamorous, but standing in the pouring bay in Leichhardt is oddly meditative.
I spent a morning last week watching our eucalyptus soy candles being poured. The space, tucked behind a row of terrace houses in Leichhardt, is part lab, part assembly line. The air’s heavy with melted wax and essential oils — surprisingly quiet, except for the occasional scrape of wicks getting adjusted.
Each candle starts with soy wax heated to 85 degrees. The eucalyptus blend gets added once the wax cools to about 60, so the oils don’t evaporate. It’s poured by hand into tempered glass jars and left to cure for 24 hours. Simple, really. But watching it happen live changes how you think about scales of production.
The batch last week was around 200 candles, enough to stock for the next month. One pour takes about 2 hours, not including prep or clean-up, which means two people working with laser focus.
I took home one with a slightly off-centre label — what they consider seconds. No one else would notice, but for them, it’s not good enough to sell. I admire that stubbornness.
There’s something grounding about seeing the whole process start to finish. You get to grasp how much precision goes into every detail. It’s not flashy work but rewarding enough in its small, repetitive way.
Sourcing: The Skill I Took From Kitchens
Supplier relationships from my chef days now feed into Prism Wares — proving kitchens teach more than recipes.
When I left the restaurant industry, I didn’t realise sourcing would become my main transferable skill. Back then, it was all about finding the freshest seafood or the rarest heirloom vegetables. Now, it’s eucalyptus oils, bamboo fibre, and Kakadu plum. Different categories, but the instinct’s the same.
The thing about good sourcing is it’s never transactional. In kitchens, we relied on suppliers not just for product but for knowledge: what’s in season, what’s peaking, what’s worth waiting for. Those relationships carried over to Prism Wares. It’s why I still pick up the phone instead of defaulting to big distributors.
Eucalyptus oil, for instance, comes from a producer in the Southern Highlands. They’ve been distilling for decades, and their first question wasn’t what I wanted to buy but what I planned to use it for. They suggested tweaks I’d never have considered.
Bamboo fibre’s harder to source locally, as Australia doesn’t really grow bamboo at scale. But after months of asking ex-chef mates and fabricators, I landed on a supplier in Vietnam I trust completely. The durability speaks for itself, but more than that, they operate with this level of detail you rarely see.
Every supplier I’ve stuck with has one thing in common: no cutting corners. Whether it’s groves in the NT or oils from Bowral, their commitment feeds directly into what we make. It’s the same ethos from the kitchen days — treat your suppliers right, and they’ll do right by you.
Customer reviews
Emma G. — Marrickville, NSW — 2024-01-25 — 5/5
Beautiful vase!
I ordered the Aurora Crystal Glass Vase and it’s stunning. Delivery was quick, and it arrived in perfect condition—packed securely.
James R. — Paddington, QLD — 2024-03-12 — 4/5
Candle smells great
The Eucalyptus Scented Soy Candle fills the room with a fresh scent. Slightly smaller than I expected for the price, though.
Lucy T. — Fitzroy, VIC — 2024-05-08 — 5/5
Perfect for picnics
I bought the Bamboo Fibre Picnic Set, and it’s super practical. Light to carry and easy to clean. Great service, too.
Olivia M. — Newtown, NSW — 2024-06-15 — 5/5
Love the serum
The Kakadu Plum Facial Serum feels amazing on my skin and smells lovely. Arrived faster than I expected.
Ethan B. — Glenelg, SA — 2024-07-22 — 4/5
Journal looks good
The Recycled Leather Journal has a nice texture, though I wish the pages were a little thicker. Fast shipping!
Sofia H. — South Melbourne, VIC — 2025-01-11 — 5/5
Perfect gift
Got the soy candle as a gift for a friend, and she loved it! Simple but elegant packaging.
Liam K. — Hobart, TAS — 2025-04-20 — 5/5
Great eco-friendly option
I’m impressed with the Bamboo Fibre Picnic Set—it’s durable and well-priced. Delivery to Hobart was smooth.
Sarah J. — Bondi, NSW — 2025-05-30 — 4/5
Serum works well
The Kakadu Plum Facial Serum is gentle on my sensitive skin, but the pump can be a bit finicky. Still, love the product!