Brick by Brick

Over the years much has been made of the “first brick thrown at Stonewall.” Who threw it? Was a brick even thrown? Firsthand accounts of the 1969 Stonewall uprising gathered by historians are full of contradictions in terms of exactly who did exactly what. In the meantime, this apocryphal brick has become sort of shorthand for measuring commitment to a cause, and quickness to act.

The symbolic power of these hefty would-be projectiles binds different eras of human history like layers of mortar. Formed from raw earthen materials and then forged in industrial furnaces, bricks are plainly representative of thousands of years’ worth of worldwide class struggles. Use of fired bricks as a building material dates back to almost 5000 BC, and they were made by laborers until factory production became possible in the 1850s. New York’s booming brick industry literally built the shining city from the ground up, just downstream from the Hudson River’s booming brickyards.

So it makes sense for the uniformity, durability, and collective strength of bricks to serve as potent metaphors for worker solidarity and public uprising. What many are unable to accomplish in terms of resistance, a single brick may historically accomplish as an instrument of brute force — especially in areas devastated by poverty or warfare, where a loose one was always close at hand.

Times haven’t changed. In 2016, crews in Hong Kong set to work gluing down loose paving bricks ahead of an official visit by a top political leader from Beijing, so they couldn’t be hurled at police by citizens (as they had been during the so-called “Fishball Revolution” earlier that year).

Heading into 2020’s historic nationwide protest of the Minneapolis Police Department’s murder of George Floyd, a swirl of viral posts warned attendees to avoid convenient stacks of bricks left near protest sites – presumably planted by authorities to incite the kind of violence they were eager to crack down on. These claims were later debunked: the bricks belonged to construction projects, and in many cases had been sitting there for months. At least organizers were canny enough to observe that the brick’s allure is strong enough to be strategically deployed against us, like something from a fable or tragic myth.

It’s not hard to see why such examples continue to loom large in our collective memory. Construction materials repurposed into tools of class warfare and community defense? The story practically writes itself. Whatever else was additionally thrown by trans and queer people at the police raiding the Stonewall Inn on that fateful day of June 28th 1969 — coins, bottles, cans, rocks, castoff garments set on fire – the prominence of the brick will long endure. It’s a load-bearing mythology, one could say.

Of course, what matters most is that people fought back. Many of them had already been fighting in one way or another for years; others joined the cause that day, becoming instant revolutionaries. The raids on queer establishments were hardly new, nor were scuffles with the police, but the spontaneity and strength of this particular uprising defied any expectation. Through a combination of coordinated effort and abject indignation, a mark was left on our cultural landscape which is still visible today.

We at the Lab are strong believers in the power of nonviolent protest to win public support and transform society. This, broadly, is the way. But as humans who have faced bullies our entire lives, we also know the importance of fighting back, of standing up in the moment to interrupt and counter brutality and injustice against our fellow humans.

By creating this series of 5ml perfume oils inspired by legend of The Brick, we are not advocating violence or preemptive attacks on authority figures. In addition to imparting our customary tongue-in-cheek humor to heavy (as it were) subjects, we sincerely hope these scents will help manifest grit, summoning in beleaguered hearts the spirit of the fight, the proud tradition of bravery and solidarity in the face of upheaval or even certain doom. Because whatever’s waiting for our LGBTQIA+ comrades down the road is going to happen right in front of us, is already happening… and paralysis, stupified silence, and doomy laments of “We knew this was coming” won’t be enough to save the day.

No one is asking you to throw a brick. However, the time may come when you can help by being bricklike. Stubborn. Grounded. Obstructive. Hard-cornered. Easily incorporated into a barricade. Light enough to be borne, but heavy enough to leave a mark. And then hopefully in better, happier times, we’ll have all the materials handy to build what we need, working together, brick by brick.

Proceeds from this perfume series will be divided between Stonewall Community Foundation and local (to us) Pride organization UDTJ.

Label illustration by Erick Turner (Instagram)

  • Brick Single Note

    Brick Single Note Perfume Oil

    The essence of grit and obstinance distilled into 5ml of pure oil: crumbly kiln-fired clay and a hint of sand.

     

    Proceeds from this perfume series will be divided between Stonewall Community Foundation and local (to us) Pride organization UDTJ.

    Snake illustration by Erick Turner (Instagram)

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  • Brick Snek

    Brick Snek Perfume Oil

    Never forget that our classic Snake Oil perfume blend — usually so soft and versatile — is prepared to strike with deadly force. This brickified variation is deeper, earthier, and hissing with rage: vintage patchouli and aged vanilla absolute conspiring with vegetal musks and dark spices to defy the “Three-Article Rule”, tip over a paddy wagon, and make out in the streets. 

     

    Proceeds from this perfume series will be divided between Stonewall Community Foundation and local (to us) Pride organization UDTJ.

    Snake illustration by Erick Turner (Instagram)

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  • Glitter Brick

    Glitter Brick Perfume Oil

    A glass raised to the celebratory spirit of Pride, in defiance of everything conspiring to our collective downfall. *clink* The convivial scent of a Tequila Sunrise (tequila, crème de cassis, lime juice, and sparkling soda water) splashed in the brick-lined gutter. 

     

    Proceeds from this perfume series will be divided between Stonewall Community Foundation and local (to us) Pride organization UDTJ.

    Snake illustration by Erick Turner (Instagram)

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  • Leather Brick

    Leather Brick Perfume Oil

    Thank you, may I have another? A rich, earthy brick accord encased in supple, spit-polished leather and flagged with a well-worn black cotton bandana. 

     

    Proceeds from this perfume series will be divided between Stonewall Community Foundation and local (to us) Pride organization UDTJ.

    Snake illustration by Erick Turner (Instagram)

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  • Velvet Brick

    Velvet Brick Perfume Oil

    “The full-length velvet glove hides the fist.” A wallop of our brick accord sheathed in gentle sandalwood, warmed by cocoa vanilla and a veil of deep myrrh.

     

    Proceeds from this perfume series will be divided between Stonewall Community Foundation and local (to us) Pride organization UDTJ.

    Snake illustration by Erick Turner (Instagram)

    Add to cart