Our story — Meet Dina
Elm Goods started on a kitchen bench in suburban Adelaide, back in 2017. I was juggling part-time admin work, the school run for my two kids, and that constant churn of feeling like there weren’t enough hours in the day. I’d always loved making things — practical, useful things — and one evening after the kids were in bed, I was sewing a simple blanket for my youngest. That blanket got more compliments than anything else I owned. Friends started asking for one too.
Before this, my days were spent drowning in spreadsheets and emails. I’d worked in small business offices for years, and it was mostly fine, but the setups were never family-friendly enough for what I needed. I wasn’t a business person by any stretch, but I knew my way around budgets, and I knew if I could make and sell enough of what people actually wanted, I could out-earn my part-time salary working fewer hours.
Elm Goods properly kicked off when I made my first 20 blankets and sold them at the local Stirling markets. I brought in $600 that day, which might as well have been $6000 for how chuffed I was. I named the brand after my eldest, Elmira, and kept sewing at home every spare moment I could find. Soon, it wasn’t just blankets anymore — people were asking for functional, thoughtful pieces for their homes, so I branched out. By 2019, I’d moved everything out of the house and into a small workshop on the Sunshine Coast, with a bit of help from the kids for packing orders after school.
These days, Elm Goods runs during school hours with a small team I trust. We still focus on the same things that got us started: simple, practical designs that fit real Australian homes. If I’m not in our Sunshine Coast workshop, you’ll find me at the local post office lugging parcels, or on the sidelines at weekend sport. It’s still busy, but it’s the kind of busy I’m glad I chose.
— Thanks for making Elm Goods part of your day — Dina, Dina Knezovic
Journal
Why Eucalyptus Works Wonderfully For Candles
Our eucalyptus candles lean on Aussie bush scents and the practicality of sourcing local leaves straight from Queensland.
When I first made the eucalyptus candles, I was sitting in our backyard, breathing in that cool, sharp smell after a sudden rain. It’s the Sunshine Coast in winter — not cold really, but crisp enough to notice. Eucalyptus isn’t exactly exotic, but that’s what makes it perfect. It’s familiar, grounding, and smells a bit like arriving somewhere great after being stuck on a plane all day.
We work with a producer in Gympie for our eucalyptus oil. Their property’s got something like 300 species of eucalypt planted; they use a few specific types for oil because not all species suit candles. They do small-batch distillation and zero waste too — any leftovers from production go into compost. It’s satisfying knowing exactly who we’re working with and that nothing’s wasted.
If you’re wondering why eucalyptus over other scents, it’s partly nostalgia. Growing up, there was always something eucalyptus-scented in the medicine cupboard. And partly because it just works. Unlike some floral candles that are great for two hours then overwhelming, eucalyptus stays fresh for ages. Light it, blow it out, come back four hours later, and the room still smells good.
We pour these candles here in our little garage-turned-workshop. Each jar can hold about 200 grams of wax. With the oil content, we found 9 percent gave the best throw — enough to fill a room but not make a headache. Testing that was half science, half guessing, and a lot of sniffing. My daughter, who we named Elm Goods after, once told me I smelled like eucalyptus for weeks.
This time of year, it’s little details like this that keep me grounded. It’s funny how something as simple as a smell can do that. Anyway, next time you strike a match, think of Gympie. Or don’t — just think of that lovely clean scent settling in for the evening.
Spring Reset with the Bamboo Spice Rack
Spring cleaning is manageable when you tackle the little things, like untangling your spice cupboard with our bamboo rack.
This week, I tackled my pantry, which usually devolves into chaos by November. The main offender? Spices. I swear some jars have been lurking in there since Elm Goods was just a hobby. The bamboo spice rack we make started as my solution — something simple but sturdy to hold standard supermarket jars.
I put in the measuring tape early on: each rack fits 21 jars if you stack them tightly, or fewer if you’re like me and chuck in bigger canisters too. For bamboo, we source from a supplier in Byron Bay who gets it pre-finished, so it’s smooth (no splinters!) and sturdy. Bamboo’s a weirdly resilient material — it grows insanely fast and thrives in Australia without much water or fuss.
The other thing I like about these racks is the depth. It’s shallow enough to tuck into narrow cupboards, but deep enough for proper jars — I’m looking at you, cumin in a sachet with no lid. Honestly, just decant it already. I keep Lachie’s protein powders on the bottom tier now too, which was a game-changer. No excuses for spills anymore.
If you’ve got five minutes, spice organisation is weirdly satisfying. I moved mine into glass jars last year and stuck washi tape labels on them, which still makes me unnecessarily happy. When everything’s lined up properly, I find myself cooking more — or at least opening the pantry without feeling defeated.
So if you’re pretending to spring clean but actually just looking for one tiny area to focus on, pick spices. It’s manageable, and the result is instant. Plus, it feels a lot easier than defrosting the freezer.
How Our Wattle Embroidery Got Its Start
The embroidered wattle cushions tie back to family, sewing lessons, and a love of yellow blooms against green leaves.
When I was a kid, Mum had this huge Singer sewing machine. The kind with a heavy metal pedal and a wide wooden table to stop it from rocking. She taught me to sew on it, which back then felt more like a chore than something useful. But as I got older, I started to see the beauty in it, especially as she mended softball uniforms late into the night.
The wattle design on the cushions started as a sketch in one of my notebooks. It felt fitting — bright yellow against a deep green backdrop, like summer holidays driving through back roads near Macedon. Wattle’s one of those Aussies-only plants. My goal wasn’t to make it perfect or realistic, but to give a hint of that feeling.
For embroidery, we work with a little workshop in Noosa. They run six machines, each capable of tens of thousands of stitches an hour, which still boggles my mind. The wattle design takes about 18,000 stitches total, and each cushion cover gets trimmed and finished by hand. They’re the kind of people who keep lollies around the factory floor for kids who come in — properly kind and helpful.
It’s seasonal work because the cushions don’t really move in summer. But I like watching it pick up each autumn when people start nesting again. For me, it’s not just about making another ‘throw cushion’. It’s a bit sentimental. Something about creating a piece that nods to both Mum and home makes me glad for those nights at the Singer.
If you’ve ever stitched something, you’ll get how meditative it feels. Like it’s not just about shape or pattern, but the motion of threading one thing into the next, until suddenly, it’s complete. That’s what keeps me coming back to embroidery for the collection. The finished product is only half the story.
January Means Reclaiming Slow Work Flow
The new year feels interesting. It’s not about starting huge projects — it’s about tidying up after the chaos of Christmas.
The shop part of Elm was wild over December. I think I spent more time printing shipping labels than actually eating meals. Weeks like that remind me why we keep it small. Running this on school hours means January is spent not scaling up, but coming back down to something manageable.
I start most years by sifting through leftover stock. After Christmas, there’s an odd mix of leftovers: two eucalyptus candles with dented lids, five spice racks missing screws, and a few embroidered cushions that somehow didn’t sell. You’d think we’d have the maths down by now, but guessing demand never gets easier. I donate what I can and fix what’s reparable. The rest … well, there’s a drawer in the garage.
Making stuff is slower now because school holidays are still on. I fit in work between swimming lessons, trips to the park, and packing lunches that inevitably get returned half-eaten. Fitting candles while planning pool runs isn’t efficient, but it feels good. There’s enough hustle during the rest of the year.
January also gives me time to poke at ideas. I’ve been sketching new cushion designs (top secret for now). Elm’s never been about conquering every category — it’s about steadying into what we already love making. Putting systems in place for production helps, but mostly it’s just about figuring out my capacity week by week.
If you’re also trying to reset after December, I wouldn’t bother with any big promises. Just get through the half-empty fridge, clear some email chaos, and find the smallest thing you can fix. That’s usually enough to shift things back into a less manic pace.
Our Koala Comfort Blanket Hits Its Peak
This is peak koala blanket season — when the mornings really start to bite, and soft layers suddenly matter.
May mornings here mean putting the kettle on first thing because the chill hits before the sun comes up. Even though we’re in Queensland, there’s something about autumn that makes you want to reach for the softest thing in the room. That’s exactly why the Koala Comfort Blanket exists. It’s soft, it’s big, and according to my youngest, it’s excellent for blanket forts.
The fabric for these comes from Melbourne. I found a supplier on one of those trade show stands at the Exhibition Centre years ago. It’s lightweight but warm, which feels like magic every time I pick up a piece of it. The factory in Burleigh Heads cuts and sews to size, adding those neat finished edges so my dodgy home sewing doesn’t make an appearance.
At home, the koala design came about because Australian animals are special without being gimmicky. Koalas feel like an old childhood friend — a bit ragged, a bit grumpy, but undeniably comforting. The print itself is subtle, tucked into greys and blues, deliberately not too loud. It’s a blanket adults can enjoy without feeling like they’ve nicked something off their kids.
Production-wise, May is without doubt our busiest blanket month. Numbers vary — we sold 233 last May — but the rhythm feels the same every year. It’s almost like we can feel the pull of colder days, and everyone stocks up before June tries to wallop us properly. It’s satisfying seeing these parcels head off to different states, knowing someone’s definitely tucking in with cocoa and TV.
Anyway, if this keeps up, I’ll need to clear extra storage come June. Blankets early in the year are like mangoes in December: seasonal, maybe a bit predictable, but always exactly the right thing.
Making The Most Of Winter Candles
Winter candle season often comes with tricks — like trimming the wick and avoiding drafts for a clean burn.
Now that the mornings barely hit double digits, the eucalyptus candles are back on my kitchen bench most nights. One thing I’ve learned over the last five years: candle care isn’t just a fancy concern. It’s practical if you want them to last. A few people have asked me how to make them burn evenly, so here’s what works.
First off, trim the wick before each use. I keep mine between five to seven millimetres. Too long, and the flame gets messy; too short, and it struggles to stay lit. It doesn’t matter if it’s a fancy gold trimmer or you pinch it off with scissors — just trim it. A smaller wick means less soot and a better smell.
Next, drafts are the enemy. One gust from a slightly open window turns the wax pool uneven, which messes with future burns. I light mine close to the table centre, away from the air con, and it’s been smooth sailing since. Plus, give the candle at least two hours on its first burn to set the memory pool properly. Anything shorter will tunnel.
Storage matters too. Eucalyptus oil’s potent, but heat can still dull it if candles sit in the wrong spot. I keep extras in a linen cupboard because it’s dark and cool there — though I’ve also heard fridges work, which honestly feels dramatic.
A good candle is like a tiny ritual in winter. You don’t need much to enjoy it, but with those little tweaks, it sticks around longer. Whether that’s for a quiet cuppa at 6pm or background ambience during dinner, it’s oddly reliable this time of year. Anyway, time to trim mine again before tonight’s episode of whatever we’re all bingeing.
Customer reviews
Sarah P. — Fitzroy, VIC — 2024-02-15 — 5/5
Beautifully practical!
I ordered the Bamboo Spice Rack, and it arrived faster than I expected. It fits perfectly in my pantry and keeps everything organised.
James T. — Newtown, NSW — 2024-05-20 — 4/5
Simple and effective
The Koala Comfort Blanket is soft and lightweight. I just wish there were more colour options available.
Olivia W. — Glenelg, SA — 2025-01-08 — 5/5
Perfect gift idea
I got the Wattle Embroidered Cushion as a gift for a friend. The details are stunning, and she absolutely loved it!
Tom H. — Paddington, QLD — 2024-07-14 — 5/5
Smells fantastic!
The Eucalyptus Scented Candle is amazing. It fills the room with a fresh, calming scent and burns evenly.
Emily V. — Subiaco, WA — 2024-09-03 — 4/5
Great but expensive
The Tasmanian Oak Cheese Board is solid and looks great, but it’s a bit on the pricey side. Still, it’s perfect for hosting.
Daniel K. — South Melbourne, VIC — 2025-03-22 — 5/5
Exactly as described
I bought the Wattle Embroidered Cushion, and it looks even better in person. Delivery was quick, too.
Mia L. — Hobart, TAS — 2024-11-30 — 5/5
So soft and versatile
The Koala Comfort Blanket is perfect for snuggling on chilly nights. I might pick up another for my car!
Ben R. — Adelaide CBD, SA — 2025-02-10 — 4/5
Lovely design
I bought the Bamboo Spice Rack to organise my herbs. It does the job well but could use slightly deeper shelves.