doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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Nouria, Lady of the Barn Owl skull- Candle-lit night, melancholy solitude and somber whispers, surrounded by leather bound books and ancient scrolls, the alchemy boiling and bubbling. A Regency-era alchemist’s cologne: bourbon vanilla, incense-smudged leatherbound books, rivulets of beeswax, galbanum resin, nutmeg, patchouli root, and leather.
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Black Sandalwood and Leather.
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Snake Oil was one of my first creations, one of the original BPAL scents, and is as bound up with my own history as it is with the history of Black Phoenix. It is the scent I wore on my wedding day, the scent I wore while giving birth to my child, and it is as much a part of me as my own eyes, breath, or limbs. Snake Oil has shed its skin, and is back — now with vintage patchouli and dark, rich, aged vanilla absolute. Snake Oil is our signature scent, our first perfume: deep, rich, earthy notes swirled with vegetal musks, sugared vanilla bean, and dark spices.
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Dead Leaves, Molten Lava Cake, and Raw Cacao.
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A tribute to the squeaky plastic rats that haunt every Halloween bin — adorable little horrors with gleaming eyes and crooked tails. Shiny black licorice, grey amber, and a dusting of smoky black pepper.
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It struck me—every Day— The Lightning was as new As if the Cloud that instant slit And let the Fire through— It burned Me—in the Night— It Blistered to My Dream— It sickened fresh upon my sight— With every Morn that came— I though that Storm—was brief— The Maddest—quickest by— But Nature lost the Date of This— And left it in the Sky— – Emily Dickinson It burned me—in the Night— It Blistered to My Dream— A scent born from sleepless nights and storms that carve themselves indelibly into memory, when lightning is no longer sky-bound, but lives in the beat of your heart and the whisper of your breath. Opium-laced benzoin and sweet myrrh veiled in black amber, violet incense and bruised plum, streaked with star jasmine, white frankincense, and ozone-crackled white musk.
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Bast, Ubasti, Ailuros, Ba-en-Aset. Represented as both a domestic cat and a fierce lioness, she truly evidences traits of both. She is the Mother of All Cats, Goddess of Sensuality, Fertility, and a guardian and protector of women. She is also one of the Eyes of Ra, and in that aspect is an Avenging Goddess, seeking retribution and punishing enemies of her people. Luxuriant amber, warm Egyptian musk, fierce saffron and soft myrrh, almond, cardamom and golden lotus.
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Lightning Moon: White Musk and Golden Frankincense
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
White Musk and Golden Frankincense. -
An oil of courage, daring, and reckless, unbridled joy. Contains: dragon’s blood absolute, frankincense, Tahitian vanilla absolute, blood orange, master root, apricot fruit compound, ginger root, heliotropin natural isolate, and fossilized amber.
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Patchouli and Smoked Vanilla.
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Airy brioche infused with spiced pumpkin and silken vanilla with a slow drizzle of maple warmed by sugared amber.
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Dead Leaves, Dried Fig, and Hay.
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Goth music and goth culture are for everyone. The more, the scarier! But try telling that to the troll who’s appointed themselves as guardian of an entire subculture, which they alone seemingly understand every nuance of. So purely for fun, we asked Drew Rausch to visualize this archetype for us as an undead horror host called the GOTHIC GATEKEEPER, who smells like every record store dickhead demanding that you name three songs from the band whose shirt you’re wearing… but the goth version. Behold: pleather, incense, and a ton of vinyl.
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Wish we had eight arms – then we could get more sleeves! Tattoo ink afuzz with caramelized pumpkin pulp, bourbon, cranberry juice, sweet patchouli, and red peppercorns.
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Every leaf tells a story.
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You’re a grownup, no one can stop you from slurping up clouds of rooty foam from around a giant glump of pumpkin ice cream squished onto the rim of a frosted goblet.
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Strangled on Midsummer’s Eve
doomsday_disco replied to doomsday_disco's topic in The Edward Gorey House
This is a very purple scent. Wisteria is the standout note on me, which was what I was hoping for, but sadly, the charred wood goes a little funky on me in the background. I don't think there's any actual violet or rose in this scent, or if those notes are present, they are not distinct on me. I've tested this several times, and I do get the tannic tea along with the wisteria and charred wood -- but during the first few tests, it was more of a background player, and during the last one, it was just as strong as the wisteria, and I swear it's one of those tea notes from the Lab with a slight anise-y quality to it (although that faded away after some time). The charred wood note going funky makes this scent one I wouldn't reach for, but if you enjoy wisteria and tannic tea notes, and can handle a bit of char, this might be up your alley. -
Peach Chai.
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But there is something else about that paper—the smell! I noticed it the moment we came into the room, but with so much air and sun it was not bad. Now we have had a week of fog and rain, and whether the windows are open or not, the smell is here. It creeps all over the house. I find it hovering in the dining-room, skulking in the parlor, hiding in the hall, lying in wait for me on the stairs. It gets into my hair. Even when I go to ride, if I turn my head suddenly and surprise it—there is that smell! Such a peculiar odor, too! I have spent hours in trying to analyze it, to find what it smelled like. It is not bad—at first, and very gentle, but quite the subtlest, most enduring odor I ever met. In this damp weather it is awful. I wake up in the night and find it hanging over me. It used to disturb me at first. I thought seriously of burning the house—to reach the smell. But now I am used to it. The only thing I can think of that it is like is the color of the paper! A yellow smell. Scorched wood and oversteeped chamomile petals pressed wetly into beeswax, brittle fossilized amber, a whisper of honeyed hay and saffron, and the sweet decay of overripe butter figs.
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Roasted pumpkin soaked in golden brandy, clove, nutmeg, and vanilla absolute.
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Blackberry and Wild Lilac.
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Often found napping in office cubicles and unrented studio apartments, this dragon is too apathetic to be evil and too bored to bother with goodness. She doesn’t hoard gold; she collects neutral-toned throw pillows, unread magazines, and Live Laugh Love-branded décor. Their scales are a rainbow of oatmeal, sandalwood, almond milk, tea-stained vanilla, and undyed wool in a muted eggshell finish.
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Dragon’s Blood and Red Wine.
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A tumultuous scent for tumultuous times: dragon’s blood resin, black clove, thunderous black musk, scorched 7-year aged patchouli, tabac absolute, and crushed pomegranate.
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The tiniest of dragons, these flirty, silly, and theatrical beasts build their nests in gilded opera boxes, toy stores, and above confectionaries and sweet shops. Their scales blaze like a handful of maraschino cherries and red currants bathed in fluorescent lighting, sparkling with sugar crystals and drizzled with vanilla liqueur.