Limited Edition

LIMITED EDITION BLENDS
No imp’s ears are available for Limited Edition scents.
Presented in an amber apothecary glass vial.

Note: only 5ml bottles are offered in our limited edition scents. Please check the BPAL forum for stock updates. No samples can be requested for any limited edition scents, as they are not taken into consideration or assimilated into stock when the limited edition oils are made. Simply put: there are none to give. If you request a sample of a limited edition scent, we will swap for a random “permanent” scent.

Limited Edition

LIMITED EDITION BLENDS
No imp’s ears are available for Limited Edition scents.
Presented in an amber apothecary glass vial.

Note: only 5ml bottles are offered in our limited edition scents. Please check the BPAL forum for stock updates. No samples can be requested for any limited edition scents, as they are not taken into consideration or assimilated into stock when the limited edition oils are made. Simply put: there are none to give. If you request a sample of a limited edition scent, we will swap for a random “permanent” scent.

  • 13 october

    13 Perfume Oil

    13 is significant, whether you consider it lucky, unlucky or just plain odd. Many believe it to be unfortunate…

    …because there were 13 present at the Last Supper.
    …Loki crashed a party of 12 at Valhalla, which ended in Baldur’s death.
    …Oinomaos killed 13 of Hippodamia’s suitors before Pelops finally, in his own shady way, defeated the jealous king.
    …In ancient Rome, Hecate’s witches gathered in groups of 12, the Goddess herself being the 13th in the coven.

    Concern over the number thirteen echoes back beyond the Christian era. Line 13 was omitted form the Code of Hammurabi.

    The shivers over Friday the 13th also have some interesting origins:

    …Christ was allegedly crucified on Friday the 13th.
    …On Friday, October 13, 1307, King Philip IV of France ordered the arrests of Jaques de Molay, Grand Master of the Knights Templar, and sixty of his senior knights.
    …In British custom, hangings were held on Fridays, and there were 13 steps on the gallows leading to the noose.

    To combat the superstition, Robert Ingersoll and the Thirteen Club held thirteen-men dinners during the 19th Century. Successful? Hardly. The number still invokes trepidation to this day. A recent whimsical little serial killer study showed that the following murderers all have names that total thirteen letters:

    Theodore Bundy
    Jeffrey Dahmer
    Albert De Salvo
    John Wayne Gacy

    And, with a little stretch of the imagination, you can also fit “Jack the Ripper” and “Charles Manson” into that equation.

    More current-era paranoia: modern schoolchildren stop their memorization of the multiplication tables at 12. There were 13 Plutonium slugs in the atomic bomb that was dropped on Nagasaki. Apollo 13 wasn’t exactly the most successful space mission. All of these are things that modern triskaidekaphobes point to when justifying their fears.

    For some, 13 is an extremely fortuitous and auspicious number…

    …In Jewish tradition, God has 13 Attributes of Mercy. Also, there were 13 tribes of Israel, 13 principles of Jewish faith, and 13 is considered the age of maturity.
    …The ancient Egyptians believed that there were 12 stages of spiritual achievement in this lifetime, and a 13th beyond death.
    …The word for thirteen, in Chinese, sounds much like the word which means “must be alive”.

    Thirteen, whether you love it or loathe it, is a pretty cool number all around.

    …In some theories of relativity, there are 13 dimensions.
    …It is a prime number, lucky number, star number, Wilson Prime, and Fibonacci number.
    …There are 13 Archimedean solids.

    AND…
    …There were 13 original colonies when the United States were founded.

    Says a lot about the US, doesn’t it?

    Be not alarmed, but show your pluck! Hallow-’Een goblins bring you luck!

    A gift from the goblins – thirteen autumnal notes deepened by bitter cacao: red sandalwood, Himalayan cedar, pine needle, green cardamom, saffron, nutmeg, pumpkin rind, black fig, myrrh, tobacco absolute, guiac, cognac, and oakmoss.

    Out of Stock
  • Friday the 13th

    13 Perfume Oil

    13 is significant, whether you consider it lucky, unlucky or just plain odd. Many believe it to be unfortunate…

    … because there were 13 present at the Last Supper.
    … Loki crashed a party of 12 at Valhalla, which ended in Baldur’s death.
    … Oinomaos killed 13 of Hippodamia’s suitors before Pelops finally, in his own shady way, defeated the jealous king.
    … In ancient Rome, Hecate’s witches gathered in groups of 12, the Goddess herself being the 13th in the coven.

    Concern over the number thirteen echoes back beyond the Christian era. Line 13 was omitted form the Code of Hammurabi.

    The shivers over Friday the 13th also have some interesting origins:

    … Christ was allegedly crucified on Friday the 13th.
    … On Friday, October 13, 1307, King Philip IV of France ordered the arrests of Jaques de Molay, Grand Master of the Knights Templar, and sixty of his senior knights.
    … In British custom, hangings were held on Fridays, and there were 13 steps on the gallows leading to the noose.

    To combat the superstition, Robert Ingersoll and the Thirteen Club held thirteen-men dinners during the 19th Century. Successful? Hardly. The number still invokes trepidation to this day. A recent whimsical little serial killer study showed that the following murderers all have names that total thirteen letters:

    Theodore Bundy
    Jeffrey Dahmer
    Albert De Salvo
    John Wayne Gacy

    And, with a little stretch of the imagination, you can also fit ”˜Jack the Ripper’ and ”˜Charles Manson’ into that equation.

    More current-era paranoia: modern schoolchildren stop their memorization of the multiplication tables at 12. There were 13 Plutonium slugs in the atomic bomb that was dropped on Nagasaki. Apollo 13 wasn’t exactly the most successful space mission. All of these are things that modern triskaidekaphobes point to when justifying their fears.

    For some, 13 is an extremely fortuitous and auspicious number…

    … In Jewish tradition, God has 13 Attributes of Mercy. Also, there were 13 tribes of Israel, 13 principles of Jewish faith, and 13 is considered the age of maturity.
    … The ancient Egyptians believed that there were 12 stages of spiritual achievement in this lifetime, and a 13th beyond death.
    … The word for thirteen, in Chinese, sounds much like the word which means “must be alive”.

    Thirteen, whether you love it or loathe it, is a pretty cool number all around.

    … In some theories of relativity, there are 13 dimensions.
    … It is a prime number, lucky number, star number, Wilson Prime, and Fibonacci number.
    … There are 13 Archimedean solids.

    AND…
    … There were 13 original colonies when the United States were founded.

    Says a lot about the US, doesn’t it?

    Help steel your nerve in the upcoming year with this earthy blend of 13 symbols of luck and stability steeped in smoked cacao: purple sage, lavender bud, patchouli, Irish moss, thyme, ambrette seed, chocolate mint, rice milk, vetiver, hazelnut, barley, tobacco, and cedar.

    Out of Stock
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    Fuck This Heat Perfume Oil

    What global warming? Slivers of ice to cool things down, lavender and hops flower to soothe the nerves.

    Proceeds benefit getting the goddamn AC fixed in the front parlor at BPAL so Teddy and Claire don’t sweat to death and we don’t roast people alive at Lunacy.

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  • Heartshow Perfume Oil

    This scent was crafted by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab for Jinxed’s Heartshow event. We have a wee bit of overstock! Proceeds from the sale of this scent benefits Lutheran Settlement House in Philadelphia, PA.

     

    Cherrywood, red amber, and red musk with a smidge of vein-blue cotton candy.

    Out of Stock
  • A photo of a chocolate lab

    Margaret Magdalena Muffinhead Perfume Oil

    Last week, our puppy, Maggie, went in for a routine spay. Today we found out that she has a potentially catastrophic infection, and she was rushed to emergency for exploratory surgery. The regular and emergency vet bills are massive (and climbing) so we’re doing a fundraiser for her to ensure that we are able to afford the care she needs.

    Miss Margaret Magdalena is a chocolate lab baby so her perfume is a thick, smoky fudge brownie scent with a heavy handful of coffee beans. She has golden eyes with a hint of green, so I added a bit of caramelized amber and green cardamom.

    Once we cover her medical bill, all proceeds from this scent above the cost of manufacture will be donated to Red Rover, an organization that shelters and cares for animals displaced by disaster and reconnects pets with their owners, rescues and cares for animals saved from abuse situations, and helps people to obtain urgent veterinary care. In addition, Red Rover works with domestic violence shelters to help survivors of domestic violence and their pets escape abusive environments together.

    Out of Stock

  • Please Scream Inside Your Heart Perfume Oil

    Select Options

  • Please Scream Inside Your Heart Sticker

    Please do not stick these on or inside your heart.

    Illustration by Drew Rausch for Black Phoenix!

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  • Please Scream Inside Your Snake Oil Perfume Oil

    Tying in with our experimental work in fear: we have screamed into our Snake Oil… and we can’t stop sniffing ourselves! BPAL’s signature scent — deep, rich earthy notes swirled with vegetal musks, sugared vanilla bean, and dark spices — has been polluted by the funnel cake frenzy that is our Please Scream Inside Your Heart perfume blend. The results are so comforting, we almost forgot why we started screaming in the first place. (Almost.)

    Note: This product DOES NOT come with the limited edition sticker that was included with Please Scream Inside Your Heart. Just one more thing to scream about! (Elizabeth clearly has a possum bias. -Ed)

    Label art by Drew Rausch!

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  • Illustration of blue social media bird with three daggers in it that reads Schrodinger's Checkmark

    Schrödinger’s Checkmark Perfume Oil

    A  hubristic statement fragrance that says: You are valid, you are official, you are VERIFIED… or are you? Guess you’ll have to shell out for it first, try it on, and then see how you feel (an experience that old-school indie fragrance fans are already well accustomed to).

    Anyway, we haven’t market-tested this product or cleared it with any investors. We just rushed it into production with the intention of fine-tuning later based on reactions online. So… what do you think? Would you pay for it as-is? How about now, if we claim to have made subtle improvements? We definitely made them. Wait, come back!

    The scent of questionable clout: airy, sticky marshmallow fluff, oily benzoin, and blackened, slick patchouli.

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    Seven Word Story: Envy Perfume Oil

    The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was Envy. The winning entry was submitted by Tyler Butler:

    Galatea wept as Pygmalion carved new statues

    Marble-white sandalwood, vanilla blossom, and orris root veined with whorls of ambergris accord, rose-touched with life, slowly shattering tears of bitter carrot seed and cistus.

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    Seven Word Story: Gluttony Perfume Oil

    The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was Gluttony. The winning entry was submitted by Crystal Rose-Thompson:

    The Sirens Eagerly Beckoned the Approaching Ship

    Sea splash on murky labdanum and gleaming olibanum, veiled in lavender, diaphanous osmanthus, gilded saffron, and honey incense.

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    Seven Word Story: Greed Perfume Oil

    The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was Greed. The winning entry was submitted by Melanie C:

    Killed the last rhino for its horn.

    Ambergris accord, orris root, and carrot seed.

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    Seven Word Story: Lust Perfume Oil

    Quoth one of the wordiest humans who ever lived: “Brevity is the soul of wit.”

    This spring we challenged friends and fans to answer that call, baring their souls (and more) in our steamy, Lust-themed #BPAL7wordstory contest

    “Seduce us in seven!” we demanded, promising the winning story would be enshrined in a Limited Edition fragrance. The response was overwhelming — and downright filthy. Over eight hundred entries later, Lust found its new champion. The winning story, submitted via Twitter by @GeekDame, took flight in our perfumer’s imagination and resulted in the following myth-tinged tryst.

    Congrats to the winner, and keep your quills sharp! #BPAL7wordstory is only getting started.

    He breathed smoke across her pomegranate-stained lips.

    Chthonic incense and blood-red pomegranate.

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    Seven Word Story: Pride Perfume Oil

    The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was Pride. The winning entry was submitted by Cam Collins:

    The alligator selfie was a bad idea.

    A swampy blend of Spanish moss, green tea, green oakmoss, celery seed, cucumber, and murky black patchouli.

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    Seven Word Story: Sloth Perfume Oil

    As Baudelaire once wrote, “We revel in the laxness of the path we take.” As such, we weren’t convinced anyone would bother entering the Sloth edition of our #BPAL7wordstory contest.

    Somehow, hundreds of you summoned the strength to string seven words together — plus the dozens who cheekily declined to muster more than six. The winning entry by Amy DeNies epitomizes that (lack of) effort with aplomb.

    Congrats to our winner, and keep those heavy eyelids propped open — #BPAL7wordstory could strike again at any time.

    can’t commit to finishing a whole banana

    The effort is too much: banana weighed down by blackened cacao, bourbon vetiver, and tobacco absolute.

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    Seven Word Story: Wrath Perfume Oil

    The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was WRATH. The winning entry was submitted by Miss Paulette:

    The poison worked slowly, to her delight.

    Bitter almond swirled into black patchouli, with red amber, rum absolute, and lemon peel.

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    Snake Oil: 2009 Vintage Perfume Oil

    Back in 2009, we bottled a hooch-jug of Snake Oil and put it aside in a cool, dark nook. We’ll be selling the fruits of our labor and patience in 100 bottle increments.

    We will be making announcements prior to each hundred-bottle release.

    By far, our most popular scent! Magnetic, mysterious, and exceedingly sexual in nature. Our signature scent, deep, rich earthy notes swirled with vegetal musks, sugared vanilla bean, and dark spices.
    .

    Out of Stock

Limited Edition - O Hushed October Morning Mild

O Hushed October Morning Mild

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
– Robert Frost

Limited Edition - The Warm Winds of Summer’s Wreckage

The Warm Winds of Summer's Wreckage

September is upon us. In its final weeks, August was staggering crookedly, profusely bleeding from the puncture wound in its side from a dagger shot by an assassin dispatched by our collective heat-fueled discontent. Every year, August lashes out in volcanic fury, rising with the din of morning traffic, its great metallic wings smashing against the ground, heating the air with ever-increasing intensity. August, the great and doomed warrior of summer, knew that the end was near. Yet so titanic is its rage, it will takes weeks for its body to cool.

Late summer is fired, blasted winds, beginnings, middles and ends — all ending. For some it’s a parting wave to youth, love, conquest and deathless time. In the face of this destruction there is revelation, epiphany, agony and exhaustion. Empty pursuits on fruitless plains in search of lightning, or perhaps even nothing.

We know it, therefore we must slay it. We know that in September, we will wander through the warm winds of summer’s wreckage. We will welcome summer’s ghost.
– Henry Rollins

Limited Edition - Closing Out The Year With Some December’ish Art Bits

Closing Out The Year With Some December'ish Art Bits

I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
A magical thing
And sweet to remember.

“We are nearer to Spring
Than we were in September,”
I heard a bird sing
In the dark of December.
– Oliver Herford

Limited Edition - New Year, New Doodles

New Year, New Doodles

What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!

Limited Edition - OML, It’s Finally March

OML, It's Finally March

She turned to the sunlight and shook her yellow
head, and whispered to her neighbor: “Winter is dead.”
― A.A. Milne

Limited Edition - Paintings Curated by Someone Living Through Their First Actual Winter (Ode to February)

Paintings Curated by Someone Living Through Their First Actual Winter (Ode to February)

Ichi-bito yo
Kono kasa urou
Uilo no kasa
– Matsuo Basho

Limited Edition - Lightning Strikes

These perfumes were created in collaboration with PS Publishing to celebrate the release of their new Electric Dreamhouse book The Bride of Frankenstein, a companion of collected writings exploring the history and legacy of the classic horror film. Edited by Emma Westwood, contributors to this book include: Jez Conolly, Jon Towlson, Sally Christie, Dr. Dan Golding, Dr. Eloise Ross, Scott Essman, Stephen A. Russell, Lee Gambin, Dr. Andrew Nette and Cerise Howard.

It also contains a biographical essay about Elsa Lanchester written by the Lab’s own T. Bloom, who helped nudge the actress’s out-of-print 1983 memoir back into publication.

The book is released this Halloween with a foreword by none other than Sara Karloff, and is available to pre-order now!

To honor the occasion, we’ve concocted three new variations on BPAL’s original  LIGHTNING perfume oil to showcase how elements of Mary Shelley’s original vision have continued to evolve over time, illuminating imaginations around the world.

  • Lightning Strikes Cinema Perfume Oil

    The scent of sitting in a darkened theater in a rainstorm circa 1935, marveling at the alchemy that transforms scribbled words into specters of light, shadow, and sound: dripping umbrellas, a nicotine haze clinging to musty velvet curtains, camphorous vapors rising from strips of hot celluloid.

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  • Lightning Strikes Literature Perfume Oil

    The incendiary moment when a human hand snatches fire from the gods of creativity and channels it onto the page: a lightning storm stirred with beeswax candle smoke, yellowing notebooks, and pools of India ink.

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  • Lightning Strikes the Future Perfume Oil

    Iconic images that ripple through decades of culture and counter-culture, forming an exquisite corpse of horror, glamour, intellectual discourse, and feminist rage that rises to meet the challenges of humanity’s increasingly uncertain fate. The ultimate lab experiment: streaks of feral red musk twining in a double-helix around a pulsing, electrified core of fossilized amber, erupting from a glimmering pool of reactor coolant.

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Limited Edition - The Purge

The Purge

This Image is Decorative

Here at the Lab, our perfectionism knows no bounds. However, not all of our experiments get to see the light of day, and over the years we’ve racked up quite a collection of oddballs, almost-rans, and interesting mistakes — all of which we simply stashed away to deal with later.

Well friends, later has well and truly arrived! As we clear our coffers and pack up to relocate across the country, there’s a certain amount of this stuff that just… makes no sense to haul! Especially when we know there are so many of you who might appreciate lightening our load and poking your noses into these odd bottles.

So here’s your chance to stash away your own little bit of BPAL history, and help us with our move to boot! We promise to keep adding to this category as more curiosities are unearthed.

Limited Edition - Illustrations of a Scorching August

Illustrations of a Scorching August

For if the root still lives, leaves come again to the house and spread their over-reaching shade against the scorching dog star.
– Agamemnon, Aeschylus

Limited Edition - Sun-Scorched Scenes of September

Sun-Scorched Scenes of September

Departing summer hath assumed
An aspect tenderly illumed,
The gentlest look of spring;
That calls from yonder leafy shade
Unfaded, yet prepared to fade,
A timely carolling.

No faint and hesitating trill,
Such tribute as to winter chill
The lonely redbreast pays!
Clear, loud, and lively is the din,
From social warblers gathering in
Their harvest of sweet lays.

Nor doth the example fail to cheer
Me, conscious that my leaf is sere,
And yellow on the bough:—
Fall, rosy garlands, from my head!
Ye myrtle wreaths, your fragrance shed
Around a younger brow!

Yet will I temperately rejoice;
Wide is the range, and free the choice
Of undiscordant themes;
Which, haply, kindred souls may prize
Not less than vernal ecstasies,
And passion’s feverish dreams.

For deathless powers to verse belong,
And they like Demi-gods are strong
On whom the Muses smile;
But some their function have disclaimed,
Best pleased with what is aptliest framed
To enervate and defile.

Not such the initiatory strains
Committed to the silent plains
In Britain’s earliest dawn:
Trembled the groves, the stars grew pale,
While all-too-daringly the veil
Of nature was withdrawn!

Nor such the spirit-stirring note
When the live chords Alcæus smote,
Inflamed by sense of wrong;
Woe! woe to Tyrants! from the lyre
Broke threateningly, in sparkles dire
Of fierce vindictive song.

And not unhallowed was the page
By wingèd Love inscribed, to assuage
The pangs of vain pursuit;
Love listening while the Lesbian Maid
With finest touch of passion swayed
Her own Æolian lute.

O ye, who patiently explore
The wreck of Herculanean lore,
What rapture! could ye seize
Some Theban fragment, or unroll
One precious, tender-hearted scroll
Of pure Simonides.

That were, indeed, a genuine birth
Of poesy; a bursting forth
Of genius from the dust:
What Horace gloried to behold,
What Maro loved, shall we enfold?
Can haughty Time be just!
– William Wordsworth

Limited Edition - Fire Down Below

A collection of sea chanteys, hauling and pulling shanties, sailor’s songs, and sea chants.

On Halloween 2007, Ted and I got married. Our wedding was pirate-themed: pirate invitations, pirate garb requested of all guests, pirate everything. The guy who designed and constructed our wedding clothes was one of the people from the costume department on the original Pirates of the Caribbean film (the perks of living in LA?); my wedding dress was loosely modeled on Tia Dalma’s outfit in At World’s End. I didn’t walk down the aisle to the Wedding March – the violinist played the song from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride for us while Brian – in privateer finery – escorted me to the altar. During our reception, there were nonstop pirate shanties, sailing songs, and nineteenth-century drinking songs on rotation.

Thirteen years later, I’ve got a tween that is tiktok obsessed, so of course I heard ALL about the resurgence of the sea chantey. I was saving these scents for our thirteenth anniversary – which was in 2020 – but we were drowning in pandemic horrors and the nightmare of creeping authoritarianism, so our anniversary was spent quietly and with too-little fanfare. Well, better late than never! Maybe I can talk Lilith into doing covers of some of these?

(Lilith, please – cover some of these as a favor to your ma, but maybe not the ones with the filthy lyrics til you’re a wee bit older. Actually, never mind. Let’s put a pin in this until you’re eighteen.)

Surely, the Sea Shanty (Chanty, Chantey) Renaissance is a sign of brighter times ahead! Happy (belated!) 13th Anniversary, Teddy!

  • A Hundred Years Ago Perfume Oil

    Well a hundred years on the eastern shore
    Oh yes, oh
    Oh, a hundred years on the eastern shore
    A hundred years ago

    Well its Bully John from Baltimore
    Well I knew him well on the eastern shore
    Well it’s Bully John’s the boy for me
    He’s a buckle on land and a bully at sea
    Well its been a long time and a very long time
    Well its been a long time since I made this rhyme
    Well my old mother she wrote to me
    Me darling son come home from sea
    Well I thought I heard the first mate cry
    That bleeding top main sheave is dry
    Well I thought I heard the old man say
    Well it’s one more pull and then belay

    Well a hundred years on the eastern shore
    Oh yes, oh
    Oh, a hundred years on the eastern shore
    A hundred years ago

    A woody, sea-crisp scent, sun-blasted and creaking: green vetiver and ocean mist with a blast of elemi, verbena, and wild bergamot.

    Out of Stock

  • A-Rovin’ Perfume Oil

    In Amsterdam there dwells a maid
    Maid of Amsterdam

    In Amsterdam there dwells a maid
    Mark well what do I say
    In Amsterdam there dwells a maid
    And she is mistress of her trade

    I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you fair maid
    A-roving, A-roving, since roving’s been my ruin
    I’ll go no more a-roving with you fair maid

    A perfume for mistresses and masters of a very specific trade: sultry red musk, heady jasmine, tobacco leaf, red sandalwood, hay sugar, golden honey, sweet carnations, and warm leather.

    Proceeds from the sale of this scent benefit Decriminalize Sex Work, a national organization pursuing a state-by-state strategy to end the prohibition of consensual adult prostitution in the United States. “We work with local organizations, advocates, and lobbyists to build community support and convince legislators to stop prostitution-related arrests. Evidence shows that decriminalizing sex work will help end human trafficking, improve public health, and promote community safety.”

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  • Asleep in the Deep Perfume Oil

    Many brave hearts are asleep in the deep so beware! Beware!
    What of the storm when the night is o’er? There is no trace or sign!
    Save where the wreckage hath strewn the shore, peaceful the sun doth shine.
    But when the wild raging storm did cease, under the billows two hearts found peace.
    No more to part, no more of pain, the bell may now toll its warning in vain.

    Loudly the bell in the old tower rings
    Biding us list to the warning it brings.
    Sailor take care! Sailor take care!
    Danger is near thee, beware! Beware!
    Beware! Beware!

    A hymn to all who sleep beneath the waves. Sailor beware! A lightless abyss of black plum, sea salt, opium tar accord, labdanum, and indigo benzoin.

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  • Boney Was a Warrior Perfume Oil

    Boney was a warrior
    Way hey ya
    A warrior a terrier
    John Francois

    Boney fought the Russians
    Way hey ya
    The Russians and the Prussians
    Jean Francois

    Moscow was a-blazing
    Way hey ya
    And Boney was a-raging
    Jean Francois

    Boney went to Elba
    Way hey ya
    Boney he came back again
    Jean Francois

    Boney went to Waterloo
    Way hey ya
    There he got his overthrow
    Jean Francois

    Then they took him off again
    Way hey ya
    Aboard the Billy Ruffian
    Jean Francois

    He went to Saint Helena,
    Way hey ya
    There he was a prisoner,
    Jean Francois

    Boney broke his heart and died
    Way hey ya
    Away in Saint Helena
    Jean Francois

    A brief and succinct biography of Napoleon jumbled with the French shanty, Jean François de Nantes. Relevant to our shared interests: Napoleon was a fragrance connoisseur, and he kept a standing order with his perfumer for a delivery of fifty bottles per month.

    A fresh, light Napoleonic-era cologne with hints of rosemary, almond, oakmoss, and jasmine.

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  • Good Ship Venus Perfume Oil

    The third mate’s name was Morgan
    By God he was a gorgon
    From half past eight he played till late
    Upon the captain’s organ

    The rest of the lyrics are too bawdy for me to post outside of a Lupercalia warning.

    Salt-crusted wooden planks warmed by cardamom, 7-year aged patchouli, tonka bean, mace, and black pepper.

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  • Hanging Johnny Perfume Oil

    They call me Hanging Johnny
    Away, boys, away!
    But I never hanged nobody
    So hang, boys, hang!

    They says I hanged my graddy
    And then I hanged my family

    They says I hanged my mother
    It is they and my brother

    I hanged a rotten liar
    But I hanged a bloody friar

    They tells I hang for money
    But hanging’s so bloody funny

    We all will hang together
    It’s all for better weather

    I’d hang to make things jolly, I’d hang all wrong and folly, we all will hang together: hemp rope, red sandalwood, and white cedar.

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  • Haul on the Bowline Perfume Oil

    Haul on the bowlin’, the bully ship’s a-rolling,
    Haul on the bowlin’, the bowlin’ haul!
    Haul on the bowlin’, Kitty is me darlin’.
    Haul on the bowlin’, Kitty comes from Liverpool.
    Haul on the bowlin’, it’s a far cry to payday.

    A short-haul shanty for getting the job done. A thumping chant of patchouli, tobacco absolute, black cedar, and cocoa bean.

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  • Leave Her, Johnny Perfume Oil

    Oh the times are hard and the wages low
    Leave her, Johnny, leave her
    Oh the times are hard and the wages low
    And it’s time for us to leave her.

    Oh my old mother she wrote to me
    ‘My dear son, come home from sea.’

    It was rotten meat and weevilly bread
    ‘You’ll eat or starve,’ the Old Man said.

    I thought I heard the Old Man say
    ‘You can go ashore and collect your pay.’

    It’s time for us to say goodbye
    For the old pierhead is drawing nigh.

    Leave her, Johnny, leave her
    Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her
    The voyage is done and the winds don’t blow
    And it’s time for us to leave her.

    A sailor’s love song to her ship: Laotian oud, white cedarwood, sweet black patchouli, spiced rum, blackened fig, and coconut.

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  • Roll the Old Chariot Perfume Oil

    Oh, a drop of Nelson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm,
    Oh, a drop of Nelson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm,
    Oh, a drop of Nelson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm,
    An’ we’ll all hang on behind!

    So we’ll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
    An’ we’ll roll the golden chariot along!
    So we’ll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!
    An’ we’ll all hang on behind!

    It is said that after Horatio Nelson’s death at the Battle of Trafalgar, his body was preserved in a cask of rum (or in some tales, brandy) in order to preserve it for transport back to England. When the cask arrived, though, it was empty of spirits, and a hole in the cask was found where the sailors had been sucking the booze out with a straw.

    Oak planks, iron, brandy, and spiced rum.

    The remains of Vice-Admiral Nelson have been omitted from this fragrance.

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  • Row Bullies Row Perfume Oil

    The boardinghouse masters came aboard in a trice
    A shouting and a promising all that was nice
    Til one old crib took a liking to me
    Says he you’re a fool, lad, to follow the sea

    And it’s row, row bullies row

    Says he there’s a job as is waiting for you
    With lashings of liquor and beggar-all to do
    Says he what you say lad, will you? – or two?
    Says I you old bastard, I’m damned if I do

    And it’s row, row bullies row

    But the best of intentions they never goes far
    After thirty two days at the door of the bar
    I tossed off me liquor and what do you think
    That rotten old bastard had doctored me drink

    And it’s row, row bullies row

    Next I remember I woke in the morn
    On a the three skysail yarder bound south round Cape Horn
    With an old set of oilskins and two pair of socks
    And an IOU nailed to the lid of my box

    And it’s row, row bullies row

    Honeyed rum, a whiff of almond, and a hint of something suspiciously soporific.

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  • The Wellerman Perfume Oil

    There was a ship that put to sea,
    And the name of the ship was the Billy at Tea
    The wind came up, her bow dipped down,
    Blow, my bully boys, blow.

    Soon may the Wellerman come
    And bring us sugar and tea and rum.
    One day, when the tonguin’ is done,
    We’ll take our leave and go.

    She had not been two weeks from shore
    When down on her a right whale bore.
    The captain called all hands and swore
    He’d take that whale in tow.

    Before the boat had hit the water
    The whale’s tail came up and caught her.
    All hands to the side, harpooned and fought her,
    She dived down below.

    A line we dropped all in pursuit
    She raised her tail, a last salute.
    But the harpoon lodged there’s no dispute
    She dived down below.

    For six long days and six long nights
    She drove us south with all her might,
    Until we were too tired to fight,
    Then we let her go.

    The line was cut, the whale was freed;
    The Captain’s mind was not on greed.
    He belonged to the sailor’s creed
    And he let that whale go.

    Sugar, tea, and rum.

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Limited Edition - 7 Word Story