The Lovecraft Collection.
Scents inspired by the works of H.P. Lovecraft and the Cthulhu Mythos.
Iä! Iä!
PERFUME OIL BLENDS
Presented in an amber apothecary vial.
$5.75 – $23.00
It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any subway train – a shapeless congerie of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and un-forming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that bore down upon us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the glistening floor that it and its kind had swept so evilly free of all litter.
An amorphous, radiant, incandescent scent. Ever changing, protoplasmic and primordial: white amber, green coconut meat, iris, palmarosa, Chinese peony, lime, water lily, snowdrop, muguet, lemongrass, osmanthus, wisteria, glassy musk, and hinoki.
The Lovecraft Collection.
Scents inspired by the works of H.P. Lovecraft and the Cthulhu Mythos.
Iä! Iä!
PERFUME OIL BLENDS
Presented in an amber apothecary vial.
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An Arabic term that refers to both the chirping of nocturnal insects and the ambient sound made by the chattering of demons. This is the original title of the feared Necronomicon, the Book of Dead Names, penned by the Mad Arab, Abdul Alhazred.
Nor is it to be thought that man is either the oldest or the last of earth’s masters, or that the common bulk of life and substances walks alone. The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be. Not in the spaces we know, but between them, They walk serene and primal, undimensioned and to us unseen. Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth’s fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread. By Their smell can men sometimes know Them near, but of Their semblance can no man know, saving only in the features of those They have begotten on mankind; and of those are there many sorts, differing in likeness from man’s truest eidolon to that shape without sight or substance which is Them. They walk unseen and foul in lonely places where the Words have been spoken and the Rites howled through at their Seasons. The wind gibbers with Their voices, and the earth mutters with Their consciousness. They bend the forest and crush the city, yet may not forest or city behold the hand that smites. Kadath in the cold waste hath known Them, and what man knows Kadath? The ice desert of the South and the sunken isles of Ocean hold stones where Their seal is engraven, but who hath seen the deep frozen city or the sealed tower long garlanded with seaweed and barnacles? Great Cthulhu is Their cousin, yet can he spy Them only dimly. Iä! Shub-Niggurath! As a foulness shall ye know Them. Their hand is at your throats, yet ye see Them not; and Their habitation is even one with your guarded threshold. Yog-Sothoth is the key to the gate, whereby the spheres meet. Man rules now where They ruled once; They shall soon rule where man rules now. After summer is winter, and after winter summer. They wait patient and potent, for here shall They reign again.
A sinister, sinuous incense of summoning, a herald and paean to the Primordial Gods of Darkness, Chaos, Madness and Decay.
His fingers closed around the Liberty dollar in his pocket, and he remembered Zorya Polunochnaya, and the way she had looked at him in the moonlight. Did you ask her what she wanted? It is the wisest thing to ask the dead. Sometimes they will tell you.
Gilded iris and Siamese benzoin, silvery-white musk, white tea leaf, and bergamot.
Behind everything crouched the brooding, festering horror of the ancient town, and of the mouldy, unhallowed garret gable where he wrote and studied and wrestled with figures and formulae when he was not tossing on the meager iron bed. His ears were growing sensitive to a preternatural and intolerable degree, and he had long ago stopped the cheap mantel clock whose ticking had come to seem like a thunder of artillery. At night the subtle stirring of the black city outside, the sinister scurrying of rats in the wormy partitions, and the creaking of hidden timbers in the centuried house, were enough to give him a sense of strident pandemonium. The darkness always teemed with unexplained sound – and yet he sometimes shook with fear lest the noises he heard should subside and allow him to hear certain other fainter noises which he suspected were lurking behind them.
He was in the changeless, legend-haunted city of Arkham, with its clustering gambrel roofs that sway and sag over attics where witches hid from the King’s men in the dark, olden years of the Province.
A shadowy, unapproachable forest of maple, birch, dogwood, cypress and pine softened by a garland of New England wildflowers: bergamot, columbine, rue anemone, blue violet, creeping phlox, bloodroot, toadflax, and pixie moss.
The yellowed country records containing her testimony and that of her accusers were so damnably suggestive of things beyond human experience – and the descriptions of the darting little furry object which served as her familiar were so painfully realistic despite their incredible details.
That object – no larger than a good-sized rat and quaintly called by the townspeople “Brown Jenkin – seemed to have been the fruit of a remarkable case of sympathetic herd-delusion, for in 1692 no less than eleven persons had testified to glimpsing it. There were recent rumours, too, with a baffling and disconcerting amount of agreement. Witnesses said it had long hair and the shape of a rat, but that its sharp-toothed, bearded face was evilly human while its paws were like tiny human hands. It took messages betwixt old Keziah and the devil, and was nursed on the witch’s blood, which it sucked like a vampire. Its voice was a kind of loathsome titter, and it could speak all languages. Of all the bizarre monstrosities in Gilman’s dreams, nothing filled him with greater panic and nausea than this blasphemous and diminutive hybrid, whose image flitted across his vision in a form a thousandfold more hateful than anything his waking mind had deduced from the ancient records and the modern whispers.
A small, furry, sharp-toothed scent that will nuzzle you curiously in the black hours before dawn: dusty white sandalwood and orris root, dry coconut husk, creeping musk, and the residue of ceremonial incense.
Sophiajameswalker –
ZING! In the bottle this scent is like sniffing lemon lime soda. I absolutely love it and it changes over time on the skin, but it’s rather inexplicable, which is another thing I love about it.
ranepage11 –
Beautifully complex & well chosen blend of ingredients that all work together to form quite a thrilling experience! Upon first whiff it has a sharp high note of Lemongrass with a slight floral to bring it back down. As the scent dries out on the skin the floral notes come out more, leaving the Lemongrass as a nice fleeting hint. Interestingly bright, & shimmery smell.
Rainey –
Most certainly complex. I smell different elements every time I open the bottle, making it a bit of a wildcard. I’m far more into sweet or vanilla scents on myself compared to the floral-laced, citrus punch that this is; that being said, it would smell gorgeous on somebody else. On me, the dominant notes are the lime and lemongrass with a mixture of sweet florals lingering underneath. Not my style and yet I can’t stop smelling it, it’s so pretty. The florals become more apparent the longer it’s on, but it never loses the tangy citrus to balance it out.
kristydiez2 –
I bought an imp of this because I was intrigued with the components and the reviews and was not disappointed. It truly does morph throughout the day, which I loved because I got so many of the different scents at different times. Wet, it had a vaguely Margarita scent which would have been the coconut and lime, but as it dried it faded to a strong hint of lemongrass and toward the end of the day the florals came out and I wound up with a soft, watery wisteria. It was a pleasure to wear and has definitely become one of my favorites.
kaedilove –
This might be my new favorite perfume. It balances the myriad scents without ever becoming muddy, and it really does change constantly. On my skin, every one of the scents is incredible. It’s like an experience. The throw isn’t particularly intense, which suits me well. It also does not give me a headache.
Danielle –
This was my very first BPAL fragrance, and I adore it.
With so many components listed, you expect a complex fragrance, and that’s what you get. The description of the scent includes the phrase “ever-changing,” which is entirely accurate. In the bottle, it throws a different note at you every time but remains bright, never muddy.
When I first applied it, I picked up the lime immediately. Less than 10 minutes later, the citrus mellowed out and the light florals came to the front. Here’s that “ever-changing” again: throughout the day, I picked up a different note.
It is a very subtle fragrance, which I love, though it fades earlier than I wish it did. I may need to pick up an imp to keep at work for reapplication mid-day.