About

I read somewhere that indoor 'parlour' fireworks were regularly in use as early as the 18th century. Although I am fairly confident they would fail most modern REACH regulations and EN15947 testing, they probably met the requirements of the time.

The first time I recall encountering indoor fireworks was when my Dad bought them for me—probably his entertainment more than mine. He’d bring them home at Christmas. I vaguely remember him explaining a cardboard tank in true military fashion, describing how the smoke device mimicked the concentration methods he likely used while serving in the army. I also seem to remember him tugging at cardboard Winston Churchill while puffing on a cigar.

Other effects included a combination of fizzles, a few flashes, and the occasional bang—plus a lot of dreadful smells, which I quite liked. I think my favourites were the snake and the expanding smoke devices, which looked like black foam or snow. Then, suddenly, the room would fill with artificial snow, or so it seemed. I suppose a family tradition had started.

I fondly recall my childhood fascination with indoor fireworks. Whether they came in a small box or in larger assortments, they always held a kind of explosive magic. Many were curious novelties, shaped like miniature volcanos or snowmen that hissed and sparkled with a mild hiss. Their chemical compositions had likely not evolved much over the decades—who knows what odd concoctions were inside them!

It appears that passive smoking volcanos are now classified as category 2 items under REACH and cannot be sold. But other effects are still available in a variety of modernized forms. Companies like Astra/Cleveland, Sharpe’s, and Ellisdons offered sets that included classic names like Brock’s, Standard, Lion, and Tom Smith.

You can still find excellent discussions and photos of these boxes online. One design I’m especially fond of was made by Cleveland Toys in the 1950s. It had a hand-drawn image of a bomb on a dinner plate, symbolising the explosive fun. My personal favourite was the Talelab box, packed in a tiny 7mm x 8mm x 3mm assortment of colourful labels—each promising to be more amusing than the last.

As an adult with kids of my own, I wanted to revive the indoor fireworks tradition one Christmas. Admittedly, they weren’t as thrilled as I’d hoped. Still, I pressed on, even suffering a minor injury and a scolding from my wife for ruining the good china. The following year, I tried again but couldn’t find indoor fireworks anywhere. I feared the worst: had the Health and Safety Executive struck again?

Eventually, I called around and was told that indoor fireworks weren’t available anymore. Fast forward to 2008: despite dealing with COMAH regulations, HSE, security issues, and seasonal staffing nightmares, we finally started producing our own indoor fireworks kits. They were an immediate success. Even though our early runs were quite limited, the response from customers was overwhelming.

By 1995, I had a small retail outlet selling regular fireworks. I remember clearly when an elderly woman walked in and asked, “Do you sell indoor fireworks?” It brought back memories of Christmas lunches and my promise to find her some. Sadly, I couldn’t source any. But I kept trying.

In August 2008, when demand was peaking, I sold my business to a competitor (now friend), Nigel Claydon of Dynamic Fireworks. By 2009, we launched our first batch of indoor fireworks in a new, more attractive presentation box with updated designs and effects. The joy of telling customers, “Yes, we have them,” never gets old.

When people ask, “Are they as naff as they used to be?” I always say, “Yes.”
“Excellent,” they reply. “Where’s my nearest stockist?”