Step through the blackened doorway of The Weeping Glass and Pittsburgh suddenly feels like a velvet-draped parlor from another century.
Flickering candlelight skims over curiosities that whisper of mourning rituals, odd sciences, and artists with a playful taste for the macabre.
You will want to slow down, breathe in the clove and wax, and let your eyes adjust to a room where every shelf tells a story.
Ready to explore a gift shop that doubles as a cabinet of wonders and a love letter to old Pittsburgh?
Victorian Mourning Candles and Scented Ephemera
Start with the candles, because scent is the closest thing to time travel you can hold in your hands. At The Weeping Glass, the epitaph candles burn low and slow, throwing off notes of smoke, clove, amber, and a breath of old library.
You pick one up and the label looks like a page torn from a Victorian ledger, all serifed letters and funereal flourishes.
The staff encourages you to take your time, to breathe the layers and find the one that matches your mood. Maybe you choose something resinous and cathedral-dark for winter nights, or something with tea and bergamot for a quiet reading nook.
Each candle feels like a ritual, a reminder to light it when the sky turns pewter and the house creaks.
Beyond the wax, you will find incense bundles tied with ribbon and small tins of perfume oil that smell like rainy alleys and velvet gloves. The packaging is beautiful but never fussy, made to be lit, worn, and loved rather than kept pristine behind glass.
Prices are fair for artisan goods, and the burn times make them practical indulgences.
There is an intimacy to the way the fragrances are curated, as if someone edited a scent library down to a few perfect chapters. You can almost hear the faint crackle of old pages, feel the cool brass of a candlestick in your palm.
Light one at home and your space becomes part parlor, part séance, wholly yours.
Take advantage of the slower weekday hours, when the shop opens in the afternoon and the crowd is gentle. The candles live near eye level, so you can compare throw and notes without juggling.
Ask questions, because the team has stories behind each blend and they love to share them.
Leave with a candle and you are carrying a little Pittsburgh dusk in a jar. It is a gift for a friend with gothic taste or for yourself on a restless night.
When the wick sparks, you will remember the shelves, the hush, and the way scent turned time on its side.
Macabre Taxidermy and Natural Curios
Move deeper and the light softens, revealing taxidermy that is reverent rather than sensational. Birds rest beneath glass domes, moths lift patterned wings in crisp frames, and small bones are arranged like poems.
Everything feels deliberate, a curated balance between science, artistry, and respect.
If you are new to oddities, do not worry. The staff is friendly and open to questions, and they will explain sourcing, care, and the difference between preservation and display.
These pieces are not trophies, they are studies, a way of honoring creatures while teaching us to look closer.
Prices scale with rarity and craftsmanship, so you might start with a tiny articulated paw or a single beetle under magnifying glass. The bell jar displays are scene-stealers, perfect for mantels and bookshelves, turning your home into a miniature museum.
Every angle offers a new detail, a feather’s iridescence or a delicate mandible.
There is a gallery feel to this corner, and you will catch yourself whispering like you do in museums. The bones are arranged with an aesthetic eye that makes them feel like sculpture.
You feel both soothed and curious, grounded by the natural world’s strange order.
Workshops sometimes touch on taxidermy and preservation methods, so keep an eye on the shop’s schedule. Even if you never plan to try it yourself, hearing how a mount is built makes you appreciate the craftsmanship.
You will also learn how to display pieces safely at home, away from sunlight and humidity.
Do not rush this section. Let your eyes drift, and choose the piece that gives you a quiet pause, the one you keep circling back to.
When you place it on your shelf, it will anchor a room and spark thoughtful conversations without shouting for attention.
Art Prints, Posters, and Gallery Walls
On the long wall, prints unfold like a salon of peculiar dreams. You find posters that wink at Victorian medicine, lunar charts, and flora drawn with botanist precision.
There is always a mix of local artists and visiting makers, a rotating stage for voices that thrive in the strange and beautiful.
The paper feels good under your fingers, heavy and toothy, some letterpressed with a whisper of indentation. Frames range from simple black to gilded curls, so you can take home wall-ready pieces or build your own gallery over time.
Prices are approachable, which makes the temptation to grab multiples very real.
Posters with occult flourishes sit beside quieter botanical studies, and that contrast keeps the selection lively. If your taste leans more academic than spooky, you will still find something elegant and understated.
If you prefer macabre theater, you will be spoiled for choices with skull motifs and twilight scenes.
What makes this wall special is the curation. It is not random; it is storytelling.
The shop arranges prints so your eye moves from moon to bone to bloom, like chapters on a dark linen ribbon.
Ask the staff about the artists, because they are eager to spotlight the makers. You might discover a local printmaker whose work becomes your new obsession.
Sometimes a show features originals in the small gallery area, so listen for announcements and openings.
When you get home, hang your print at eye level and let it change the room’s temperature. The Weeping Glass teaches you that walls can whisper.
Choose a piece that feels like a companion and let it keep you company through the seasons.
Jewelry with Old-World Mystique
In a glass case, jewelry gleams like secrets. There are lockets that could hold a whisper, rings that look excavated from a poet’s desk, and jet-black beads that catch the light like midnight rain.
The styles lean antique, but the makers are modern and meticulous.
You can try pieces on without feeling rushed. The staff keeps polish cloths handy and will tell you how to care for silver, plated brass, and stones.
If you want symbolism, ask about motifs like eyes, hands, and talismans drawn from protective folklore.
Prices span from small charms to showpiece rings, so gifting is easy. A simple pendant can be an everyday companion, softening a T-shirt, while an ornate locket anchors a black dress with quiet drama.
Everything invites touch, the weight of metal reassuring against the pulse.
What you will love is how these pieces play well with the shop’s mood. They are not costume, they are keepsakes.
You feel a flicker of ceremony when the clasp closes, a private vow to carry beauty into the day.
Ask for the story behind a maker’s hallmark or the casting technique. You may learn about cire perdue or hand-engraved bezels, details that transform an object into a narrative.
The craftsmanship gives each piece the authority of an heirloom, even when it is new.
Leave wearing a ring, and the rest of the afternoon sharpens around it. You will notice how light follows metal, how strangers glance and then smile.
Jewelry from The Weeping Glass is not loud, but it lingers, like the last note of a favorite song.
Books, Zines, and Esoteric Guides
There is a corner where paper rules: slim zines, illustrated chapbooks, and handsome hardcovers. You can thumb through esoteric primers, folklore anthologies, and botanical histories that double as art objects.
The selection sits at the crossroads of curiosity and scholarship, perfect for rainy afternoons.
Some titles come from small presses you will not spot in big stores. Others are beloved standards that pair well with the shop’s sensibilities.
If you like ritual guides, there are thoughtful, grounded options that favor practice over posturing.
Zines add a DIY heartbeat to the stack. Risograph inks bloom in unusual colors, and the staples feel charmingly homegrown.
They make excellent gifts because they invite discovery without demanding commitment.
The staff is happy to match a book to your vibe. Want something macabre but gentle?
Try a collection of Victorian ghost stories with lush illustrations and notes on period mourning culture.
There are also artist monographs and exhibition catalogs that align with the gallery shows. You might walk out inspired to rearrange your shelves at home.
Pair a book with a candle, and you have a ready-made night in.
Bring a tote and give yourself time to browse. You will find clarity in the soft rustle of pages and the smell of ink.
When you leave, you carry not just content but companionship, the kind that sits quietly beside you and deepens a room.
Hand-Poured Soaps, Teas, and Bath Rituals
Self-care here looks like an apothecary dream. There are soaps marbled with charcoal and rose, bath salts that gleam like frost, and teas that smell like late gardens and library hours.
Labels feel hand-touched, with typography that nods to vintage chemists.
You can build a ritual kit in minutes. Choose a tea with bergamot and violet leaf, add a soap that leaves skin squeaky without stripping, and finish with salts dusted in lavender.
The scents are nuanced and never cloying, which makes them easy to live with.
Packaging matters, and these goods nail it without wastefulness. Glass jars are reusable, tins stack satisfyingly, and paper bags crinkle in a comforting way.
Everything looks giftable even before ribbon, which is helpful when time is tight.
Ask about sourcing and ingredients if you have sensitivities. The staff will guide you toward gentle formulas and unscented options.
They will also tell you how to store teas so they stay bright and how to keep soaps drying evenly between uses.
There is pleasure in turning a simple bath into ceremony. Light a shop candle, steep a cup, and let the steam soften the edges of a long day.
The Weeping Glass excels at transforming small routines into meaningful pauses.
Take your time sniffing and sampling, especially during slower midweek hours. When you step back onto E Warrington Ave, you will feel lighter.
Your bag will clink with jars, and every one will promise a moment of calm waiting at home.
Workshops, Readings, and After-Hours Events
The calendar at The Weeping Glass turns shopping into community. Workshops might cover broom making, beginner taxidermy, or crafting that leans folkloric and hands-on.
There are also card readings held at a small table that glows under a pool of light.
Events feel intimate rather than showy, which suits the space. Seats are limited, so you get time to ask questions and actually learn.
You leave with a skill, a story, and a keepsake that smells faintly of clove and wood glue.
After-hours, the gallery side can host openings that make the whole block feel electric. On big neighborhood nights, the street outside thrums and the shop becomes a lantern in the dark.
If crowds are not your thing, plan for quieter sessions on regular days.
Readings are thoughtful and grounded. You are not handed doom; you are given perspective, a way to frame what is already stirring in your life.
It is like a mirror that understands symbolism and timing.
Sign-ups happen fast, so follow the shop online to catch announcements. The team is organized, and communication is clear, which makes attendance easy.
Bring a notebook, because your hands will smell like cedar and you will want to jot things down.
When you walk out after a class or a reading, the neighborhood looks slightly enchanted. The experience lingers, stitched to the senses.
You came for curiosities and left with a new practice tucked into your pocket.
Gifts for the Delightfully Strange
If you are shopping for someone with macabre taste, this is your one-stop trove. There are enamel pins shaped like tiny bones, skeleton hand spoons, and greeting cards with a wink of gallows humor.
Everything feels clever without tipping into tacky.
For kids and the curious, owl pellet kits are a hit, bridging science and wonder at the kitchen table. There are also puzzles, small craft sets, and pocket-sized field guides that make learning feel like play.
You can pair a quirky pin with a print and a candle to build a themed bundle.
Price points are friendly, so you can leave with several little treasures instead of one big purchase. The packaging makes wrapping easy, especially with the shop’s black ribbon and tissue paper.
It all looks considered, like a gift from a Victorian aunt with excellent taste.
Seasonal rotations keep the shelves fresh. Around autumn, the selection leans cozy-spooky, while spring brings botanical brightness with a twist.
You will always spot something new, even if you visit often.
The beauty of this place is that it treats strange as normal and curiosity as a virtue. You are encouraged to pick things up, laugh, compare, and imagine who would love what.
The vibe is warm, not standoffish, which makes gift hunting actually fun.
Make a list before you go, but expect to veer off it. The store is a magnet for serendipity, the kind where a small object feels like it was waiting for you.
When you hand it over later, the recipient will feel seen in a way that is rare and memorable.
Visiting Tips and Neighborhood Notes
Set your map to 746 E Warrington Ave and aim for afternoon hours. The Weeping Glass is currently closed Monday and Tuesday, with doors opening midweek at 1 PM and earlier on weekends.
If you prefer a slower browse, Wednesday through Friday afternoons are a sweet spot.
Parking is straightforward on nearby streets, but give yourself a few extra minutes on event nights. The block can fill up when the neighborhood throws a party, and the shop gets lively.
If crowds drain you, plan a return visit when things are quiet.
Call ahead or check the website for workshop listings and any hour changes. The team updates frequently and wants you to have a smooth experience.
You can also shop online if you are out of town, and packages arrive well packed and clearly labeled.
Inside, treat the space like a gallery as much as a shop. Handle fragile items with care, and ask for assistance with domes or framed works.
The staff is approachable and kind, and they love sharing backstories.
Make a mini itinerary. Pair your visit with a coffee nearby, then linger over prints, candles, and a gift or two.
The shop is small enough to savor but dense enough to reward a slow hour.
When you step back outside, you will carry a bit of that old-world hush with you. Pittsburgh feels different for a moment, like the past leaned close and smiled.
That is the charm of The Weeping Glass: it makes time feel beautifully elastic.