Perfume oil blends, $30.00 per 5ml bottle. Presented in an amber apothecary glass vial. Because of the nature of this project, imps are unavailable.
400 bottles of each scent will be crafted.
Ghosts are real, that much I know. I’ve seen them all my life…
In a groundbreaking departure from past film tributes, Black Phoenix Alchemy presents a series of scents, jewelry, and more inspired by Guillermo Del Toro’s sumptuous gothic romance CRIMSON PEAK.
As audiences are already discovering, CRIMSON PEAK is more than mere ghost story or cinematic spectacle: it is a director’s love letter to the dark tales which formed his childhood sense of wonder, nudging him toward becoming the visionary artist he is today. For contemporary viewers this serves as a gateway to an entire form of storytelling — one which may seem as outdated as whalebone or laudanum, but retains its power to shock, arouse, and illuminate.
Perhaps it’s fitting that in the 21st century, the gothic romance genre has itself become a wandering ghost — one which, not unlike the film’s heroine Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska), certain among us can still hear, see, and even smell. What is it so desperately trying to tell us?
Set in the late Victorian era, Del Toro’s film explores the terrible power of doomed relationships, of love struggling to bloom in a world fraught with death and suffering. Stalked since childhood by the specter of her mother, Edith stubbornly chases the dream of becoming an author, fantasizing about becoming the next Mary Shelley and delicately resisting the advances of her childhood love, Dr. Alan McMichael (Charlie Hunnam).
Edith inadvertently steps into the pages of her own haunted love story when she finds herself being wooed by the dashing Sir Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston), a baronet seeking investors to help salvage what’s left of his crumbling birthright. A series of tragedies put Edith front and center in the lives of Sir Thomas and his brooding sister, the Lady Lucille Sharpe (Jessica Chastain), and confine her to Allerdale Hall — a decaying British manor that veritably breathes, bleeds, and screams under the strain of the elements, not to mention the spirits of those who’ve perished within.
Unraveling the mystery of these strange events, Edith is forced to confront her fears of communing with the dead, gradually coming to appreciate her dead mother’s warning — Beware of Crimson Peak — as the line between life and death grows ever fainter in the snowfall in and around Allerdale Hall.
While the ghosts of CRIMSON PEAK are far more than “just a metaphor,” Del Toro’s film is unabashed in its emphasis on the uniquely human experiences of loss, grief, and remembrance, painting the supernatural as a realm where pain (as well as love) can linger long after death.
Thanks to the director’s artistic vision and penchant for practical effects, the world of these characters (living and otherwise) is astonishingly tangible — an orgy of bold colors and rich fabrics, of flesh both livid and sanguine. Those who feel at home in such a lavish world may consider it an invitation from Del Toro himself: return to Allerdale Hall as often as you dare, and feel welcome to stay a long, long time.
A Shadow in the ElevatorAdd to cart
Strands of ectoplasm floating through the shadowed air: black plum, inky vetiver, cashmere patchouli, dark oudh, and spectral musk.
A Specific AberrationAdd to cart
These… spectres – may be all around us and only the “developing agent” – those with the specific aberration can see them…
Or perhaps we only notice things when the time comes for us to pay attention to them. When they need us to see them…
The scent of a pierced veil: misty white petals drifting through ambergris and frankincense.
Ad Montes Oculos LevaviAdd to cart
To the hills we raise our eyes…
A dark legacy: unbending teakwood and blood musk.
All That I PossessOut of Stock
I am here with all that I possess, Sir – A name, a patch of land and the will to make it yield. The least you can grant me is the courtesy of your time and the chance to prove it to you, and these fine gentlemen, that my will, dear Sir, is at the very least, as strong as yours.
Amber, clove and leather takes shape through the scent of raw determination; a fortitude born of having nothing left to lose. In the background, guiac wood, white sandalwood, and myrrh forms the dust of long-forgotten aspirations and hope on the verge of being forever relinquished.
Between Your Heart and MineAdd to cart
… I find myself thinking of you – at the most inopportune moments of the day. I feel as if a link – a thread exists between your heart and mine… And that, should that link be broken by distance or time… Well – I fear my heart would cease to beat and die… and you’d soon forget about me.
Heartwood bois de rose and vanilla-touched rose.
BewareAdd to cart
Beware… of Crimson Peak.
This is the scent of dread, of admonitions from beyond the grave: inky vetiver and black musk with carrot seed, elemi, and frankincense.
Black MothsOut of Stock
Back home we only have black moths. Formidable creatures. They thrive on the dark and cold.
…What do they feed on?
Butterflies, I’m afraid.
A flutter in the darkness: wild plum and blackcurrant with aged black patchouli, vetiver, red rose petal, tonka absolute, and opoponax.
CrimsonAdd to cart
The red of an open artery, the red of congealing blood, the red of a scarlet tomb: burgundy musk, bitter clove, crushed saffron, red sandalwood, and red oudh.
Crimson PeakAdd to cart
A house that breathes, that bleeds, and remembers.
A house like this, in time can become a living thing with timber for bones and windows for eyes: snow marbled with blood-red clay, frozen over the scent of decayed wood.
Fairy Tales and LiesOut of Stock
Why? Why must a woman always write about fairy tales and lies – Ideal husbands or being rescued by a dashing young prince?
A proper Gilded Age Happily Ever After: lilac water and rose petals swirled with a gleaming amber chypre and a touch of Italian bergamot.
Firethorn Berry TeaAdd to cart
It’s a little bitter.
I’m afraid nothing gentle ever grows in this land, Edith – You need a measure of bitterness – not to be eaten. To survive…
GhostsAdd to cart
Where I come from, ghosts are not to be taken lightly.
Terror by birthright. A legacy of sorrow, violence, and undeath: chrysanthemum petals, crushed violet leaf, and funereal incense.
IndulgenceAdd to cart
Gleaming black and iridescent green: black patchouli and vetiver with green amber, oudh, tobacco flower, elemi, and champaca.
InsectsAdd to cart
There’s nothing random about insects. And I admire that. They do what needs to be done to assure their survival… Even their beauty and grace are only means to ensure their species…
A lustrous black patchouli attar with dried purple fruits, neroli, and opoponax.
Love Makes Monsters of Us AllAdd to cart
It’s nature. A savage world of little things dying or eating each other right beneath our feet.
Flora and fauna, man and beast entwined in a cycle of endless brutality: soil and rot and the heat of rage, blood-smeared musk and sharp decay.
LullabyAdd to cart
Let the wind blow kindly
In the sail of your dreams
And the moonlight your journey
And bring you to me
We can’t live in the mountains
We can’t live out at sea
Where oh, where oh, my lover
Shall I come to thee?
Moonflower and iris root with French lavender, tuberose, white sandalwood, night-blooming gardenia, vanilla orchid, and moss.
Shadows and ReflectionsAdd to cart
A shadow? Oh, darling, all that lives in this house are shadows and reflections and creaks and groans.
The scent of menace, an inexplicable dread: Somalian myrrh, black poppy, gloom-shrouded musk, and wispy sandalwood.
The First Time I Saw a GhostAdd to cart
The first time I saw a ghost, I was ten years old…
It was my mother’s.
A slightly morbid admission: I lost my mother when I was 15, and I still remember how it felt to hold her hand after she passed away. The scent I’m trying to capture here is love mingled with grief and a peculiar horror, reminiscent of the chill of her skin and the weight of her hand. English roses as a symbol of the love a child feels for her mother, chilled by eucalyptus blossom, iris root, and white lily aldehyde.
The MagicianAdd to cart
Wood and copper mimicking life, dressed in a gentleman’s cologne. An elegant automaton wonder built to fascinate.
The ManuscriptAdd to cart
A ghost story – Your father didn’t tell me it was a ghost story…
It’s not, Sir, it’s – more like a story… with a ghost in it.
A leather-bound manuscript, ink barely dry. A Gothic ghost tale, personified. The pages are permeated with a preternatural, otherworldly quality – but only slightly, as the ghost is a counterpoint; leather and paper and splotches of ink, with a hint of ghostly chill.
The WaltzAdd to cart
The Waltz – Not a complicated dance, really – The lady takes her place slightly to the left of the leading gentleman. Six basic steps – that is all.
However – It is said that the true test of a perfect waltz is for it to be so swift, delicate and so smooth, that a candle flame will not be extinguished in the hand of the lead dancer… Now that requires the perfect partner.
So swift, so delicate, so smooth: champagne musk, ambergris accord, white rose, rosewood, and vanilla amber.
Crimson Peak - Characters
Alan McMichaelAdd to cart
My deepest concern has always been for you. If you are happy, I am happy.
Bay rum and sandalwood.
Edith CushingOut of Stock
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind: pearlescent vanilla musk with white sandalwood, grey amber, white patchouli, ambrette seed, and oudh.
Lady Lucille SharpeOut of Stock
Love makes monsters of us all: faded red roses and a glimmer of garnet with black lily, ylang ylang, smoky plum musk, and black amber.
Mother GhostAdd to cart
Love transcending time, space, and death: a cold, sheer white musk gleaming with black orchid, benzoin, labdanum, and blackened amber, and embraced by white rose, tea leaf, and vanilla flower.
Sir Thomas SharpeOut of Stock
Give in to temptation: black amber darkens a pale fougere.