doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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There is a recurrent spot where the pattern lolls like a broken neck and two bulbous eyes stare at you upside-down. I get positively angry with the impertinence of it and the everlastingness. Up and down and sideways they crawl, and those absurd, unblinking eyes are everywhere. There is one place where two breadths didn’t match, and the eyes go all up and down the line, one a little higher than the other. Indolic jasmine glaring through a haze of tobacco yellow and stained lace.
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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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Saying “bone apple teeth” instead of “bon appétit” seems to take on a special meaning in the context of Halloween treats. Here’s a scent commemorating the allure of everything our dentist would have us avoid: a luscious red apple rendered nigh impenetrable by armored plates of toffee and caramel, sprinkled with bone-dry cinnamon-glazed almonds and hard bits of popcorn.
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A scent inspired by the debris left over from frantic last-minute costuming sessions. Torn scraps of velvety black voodoo lily mingled with dried rose petals and a flash of red peppercorn.
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An intangible vapor, an obfuscating mist: grey iris, ambergris, mallow blossom, white tea blossoms, and scorched milk. Alfred Stieglitz
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And the weaver said, Speak to us of Clothes. And he answered: Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful. And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy you may find in them a harness and a chain. Would that you could meet the sun and the wind with more of your skin and less of your raiment, For the breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind. Some of you say, “It is the north wind who has woven the clothes we wear.” And I say, Ay, it was the north wind, But shame was his loom, and the softening of the sinews was his thread. And when his work was done he laughed in the forest. Forget not that modesty is for a shield against the eye of the unclean. And when the unclean shall be no more, what were modesty but a fetter and a fouling of the mind? And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair. Sunlight on skin: sweet amber, honey dust, golden sandalwood, and soft musk.
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Lightning Moon: Golden Amber and Plum Blossom
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
Golden Amber and Plum Blossom. -
Ladies, is it gay to have a skeletal system? Short answer: YES! Because the human wrist was undeniably made to flap and go “enh.” There are many theories about the historical origin of the so-called “limp wrist” gesture, which has bedeviled arbiters of masculine/feminine presentation since at least the ancient Roman times. So when we defiantly flop our phalanges, we’re reclaiming a time-honored tradition! And letting our skeletons do what they do most naturally: camp it up. Did you know the human wrist is made up of eight small bones, plus the forearm’s radius and ulna? Factor in the four small ones that comprise that lightly extended pinkie finger, and the number of bones required to execute this delicate maneuver add up to FOURTEEN. No wonder we’re always so tired. So defy nature if you truly must, but never forget: when bones are all that’s left of you, the wrists will be extra floppy. And we think that’s worth celebrating while you’re still alive! This scent debuted in 2023 as “Is He, You Know” but since this is commonly deployed as an equal-opportunity aphorism, we’ve created a campy companion scent: sweet 13-year aged patchouli, peru balsam, white oakmoss, spikenard, bourbon vanilla, sugar cane, and a sprig of lilac.
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Snake Oil, opium tar, indigo poppy petals, plum cognac, and a dribble of laudanum.
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In the vein (GET IT) of Boo, Suck It, and Spooky, this is a gushing font of sweet bloody black cherry cream and crushed dried blackberries.
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Black Butterfly Moon: Vanilla-Infused Frankincense and Raspberry
doomsday_disco replied to doomsday_disco's topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
Ohohoho! /Ojou-sama laugh I was here for the raspberry, and fortunately, the raspberry is the star of this duet on me. It starts off as a tart, bright raspberry, but it ends up developing a bit of creaminess to it after a few hours of wear, which could be due to the vanilla, but I'm not 100% on that since that has happened with other raspberry scents on me, even the ones from Astrid (it's not a bad thing, though -- it's more like realistic tart raspberry morphs into a raspberry Mamba, which is a hard, taffy-like fruity candy). There's only the barest hint of frankincense in the background if I go sniffing for it, but I probably wouldn't have guessed this contained any if I didn't know it were there. I layered a drop of this with Black Butterfly Moon, and I enjoyed the combination of the two scents more than the moon on its own. I'm not sure if the lunacy scent brought out more of the vanilla-infused frankincense from this, or if this brought out more of the vanilla resin in the lunacy, or what, but I definitely get some vanilla and resin with the tart raspberry that floats over the blackberry and purple flowers from the lunacy scent, and the vanilla and resin note make me think of the Bourbon Vanilla bath oil from several years ago (deceptively sweet: bourbon vanilla oleoresin and benzoin resinoid). I am after more raspberry scents to pair with Framboise Hair Gloss, so I'll be needing a bottle of this before it goes away. -
Black Butterfly Moon: Vanilla and Tobacco Flower
doomsday_disco replied to doomsday_disco's topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
This doesn't smell like just the two notes in this duet, to my nose. When I first sniffed it in the decant, I wondered if this were just he Dregs of a Bottle of Vanilla Extract (Discovered in the Mud) plus tobacco. Then I sniffed them side by side and realized that Dregs is much cooler and features a different dirt note, and there's a bit of spice to this one that's not in Dregs. But nevertheless, I get dirt, a sheer vanilla, and a dry tobacco note. My partner also thought that I smelled like dirt when I wore this, and when I layered a drop of this with Black Butterfly Moon, I mostly got the dirt and sheer vanilla floating over the blackberry-tinged purple flowers of that lunacy scent. If you're here for a vanilla and tobacco flower duet in the vein of Pediophobia, or Zorya P, you're going to be disappointed. That's what I was hoping for, so I don't think I'll be keeping the decant. -
Vex, the Bone Goddess – summoning rituals of skulls, bones and stones, chanting into the dancing flames, pits of black ash and spice, the door opens. A bone goddess’ sacred incense: fire and ash, bone shards, and stone.
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Dark delusions, sinister shadows in an underground lair, surrounded by death and decay, puffs of tobacco smoke and a longing to be whole. Pipe tobacco and a splash of Victorian fougere, damp soil and grave moss, yew boughs and mandrake root.
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An unreleased summer duet.
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Also known as the Dead Head Dragon, this is a guardian of rot, rust, and revelation, feeding on spiritual decay and quietly hoarding the sordid secrets of the powerful. Scales of deep purplish rust-red: black fig, patchouli-steeped purple clove, black tea, blackcurrant, red musk, and oud.
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Rare, reclusive, and devoted to contemplation, Chartreuse Dragons make their home in high, wooded monasteries carved into moss-draped cliff faces. Its scales shimmer in shifting tones of yellow-green, laced with the scent of lime rind, crushed apothecary herbs, and translucent vegetal musks.
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A fussy, irritable, irascible dragon with a taste for drama, velvet throw pillows, cryptic social media posts, ink-smeared burn books, biting commentary, and vintage clothing with a past. Its scales are the color of dried blood, old bruises, clove-spiked pomegranate, aged patchouli, and vermouth.
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Once the guardian of the garden of Hesperides, the Dragon constellation Draco coils around the sky’s north pole. Never sleeping and never setting below the Northern Horizon, Draco and its Draconis stars within are now the celestial guardian, forever watching over us all. A protective blend of Dragon’s Blood, Clove, and Amber.
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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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Opoponax, ebony, and black galbanum cast black shadows across mineralic amber and glittering sand. František Kupka
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Crimson musk, sacramental wine, iron oxide, saffron threads, stained linen, and frankincense. Oskar Kokoschka
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Kit Sahari, Lady of the Fennec Fox skull – deserted wanderer, a lone survivor, quick footed and silent, warm blood, bones and fur, sharpening blades by the fire. Blood, bones, and fur: russet musk, desert sand, Daemonorops cinnabar, tonka bean, vetiver, and clove bud.
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A luminous cold flame: chilled bergamot, Ceylon cinnamon, white clove bud, amber, and incense smoke. Between these passionate moments there were long intervals of commonplace, of gaiety, of brooding melancholy, during which, except that I detected her eyes so full of melancholy fire, following me, at times I might have been as nothing to her.
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Black Currant and Black Violet.