Ambergris Accord
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A Little Silver Scimitar Perfume Oil
Out of StockFoamy orris and ambergris accord pierced by a sliver of white fir needle, moonflower, and cypress.
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Adam Perfume Oil
Add to cartAdam, our suicidally romantic scoundrel. His scent is a palette of somber colors, melancholy memories, and lupine, savage beauty: black leather, pale sandalwood, ambergris accord, and the memory of a long-lost Victorian fougère. His internal life seems to be reflected in his lair, so his perfume also possesses the scent of the wood of his guitars, the rosin from his violin bow, the musty wool of neglected Oriental carpets, the plastic, metal, and magnetic tape of his reel-to-reel, the dust that permeates everything.
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Alien/Siren Perfume Oil
Add to cart“Women are defined from the outside, in terms of how they seem to men, rather than from the inside, as thinking, feeling subjects. They are not fellow people, not even a different or worse variety of person, but simply the opposite of men, and hence, the opposite of human.
Which leads to the question of how you can have sex with something that isn’t human. In many myths, heterosexuality is portrayed as a kind of legalized bestiality, and attractive women are alluring, predatory, half-human monsters: fairy wives, snake-women, others whose beauty is a thin veneer over their dangerous and alien psyches.”
A sebaceous, slick reptilian perfume: green and black vegetal musks, kelp, sea salt, blackened opoponax, violet leaf, Siamese red benzoin, davana, squid ink, and ambergris accord.
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Channel Snow Perfume Oil
Add to cartTelevision static made manifest, with a glimpse of perversions hidden beneath: benzoin, black pepper, white sandalwood, olibanum, ambergris accord, galbanum, and O3.
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Diamond Star Perfume Oil
Add to cartAmbergris accord, guiac wood, white benzoin, immortelle, and Somalian myrrh.
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Malinconia Perfume Oil
Out of StockDomenico Fetti
The thief of joy: Oman frankincense, fossilized amber, white patchouli, champaca orchid, ambergris accord, myrrh resin, violet leaf, orris root, age-stained paper, chrysanthemum, and pale tendrils of smoke.
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Monastery in the Winter Night Perfume Oil
Out of StockAlexei Savrasov
Sweet myrrh, frankincense smoke, Damascus rose resin, ambrette seed, winter mosses, and ambergris.
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Portrait of Magdaleine Pinceloup de la Grange née de Parseval Perfume Oil
Add to cartJean-Baptiste Perronneau
An aristocratic 18th century French perfume dabbed on lilac velvet, gently purring with soft grey amber and feline musk, and tinkling with tiny golden bells. Grasse jasmine and rose otto nestled in ambergris accord, frankincense, white sandalwood, bourbon vanilla, cardamom, amber, coriander, and galbanum.
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Seven Word Story: Greed Perfume Oil
Out of StockThe 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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Socius Beard Oil
Add to cartA solid, steadfast blend of patchouli, smoked vanilla husk, ambergris accord, and tawny oudh.
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Socrates Perfume Oil
Add to cartSOCRATES of Athens (c. 470 BCE – 399 BCE)
To Socrates, “the unexamined life is not worth living.” He did his examining publicly, by elenchus, which is italics for “the question-and-answer analysis of ideas.” (We still call this “the Socratic Method” and it still bugs people.)
Socrates portrayed himself as a “gadfly” to the torpid “great and noble steed” of the state, and powerful Athenians agreed, though they were not universally grateful.
Socrates also claimed he had a mystical inner voice (his daimonion) and it dissuaded him from such deeds as seeking high office. Ineluctably, this daimonion and his many other peculiarities were weaponized by Athenians of high office.
Despite his patriotic service – as soldier, as divinely-appointed nuisance of Athens – Socrates was tried, convicted of impiety and corruption of the youth, and sentenced to death by drinking Conium maculatum, which is italics for poisonous hemlock.
Socrates remained Socrates to the last.
…I had not the boldness or impudence or inclination to address you as you would have liked me to address you, weeping and wailing and lamenting, and saying and doing many things which you have been accustomed to hear from others, and which, as I say, are unworthy of me. But I thought that I ought not to do anything common or mean in the hour of danger: nor do I now repent of the manner of my defense, and I would rather die having spoken after my manner, than speak in your manner and live.
– Plato-s ApologyInspired by anointing oils used in the philosopher’s time after partaking in public baths: orris root, ambergris accord, frankincense, olive blossom, black fig, and marjoram.
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The Shepherd’s Dream Perfume Oil
Out of StockHenry Fuseli
Ambergris accord, lilac mist, grey silk ambrette, wisteria, white frankincense, champa magnolia, and pink tea roses.
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To a Wreath of Snow Hair Gloss
Add to cartO transient voyager of heaven!
O silent sign of winter skies!
What adverse wind thy sail has driven
To dungeons where a prisoner lies?
Methinks the hands that shut the sun
So sternly from this mourning brow
Might still their rebel task have done
And checked a thing so frail as thou
They would have done it had they known
The talisman that dwelt in thee,
For all the suns that ever shone
Have never been so kind to me!
For many a week, and many a day
My heart was weighed with sinking gloom
When morning rose in mourning grey
And faintly lit my prison room
But angel like, when I awoke,
Thy silvery form so soft and fair
Shining through darkness, sweetly spoke
Of cloudy skies and mountains bare
The dearest to a mountaineer
Who, all life long has loved the snow
That crowned her native summits drear,
Better, than greenest plains below –
And voiceless, soulless messenger
Thy presence waked a thrilling tone
That comforts me while thou art here
And will sustain when thou art gone
– Emily Brontë
Morning rising in mourning grey: tobacco flower, white oud, lavender bud, and ambergris accord.
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To a Wreath of Snow Perfume Oil
Out of StockO transient voyager of heaven!
O silent sign of winter skies!
What adverse wind thy sail has driven
To dungeons where a prisoner lies?
Methinks the hands that shut the sun
So sternly from this mourning brow
Might still their rebel task have done
And checked a thing so frail as thou
They would have done it had they known
The talisman that dwelt in thee,
For all the suns that ever shone
Have never been so kind to me!
For many a week, and many a day
My heart was weighed with sinking gloom
When morning rose in mourning grey
And faintly lit my prison room
But angel like, when I awoke,
Thy silvery form so soft and fair
Shining through darkness, sweetly spoke
Of cloudy skies and mountains bare
The dearest to a mountaineer
Who, all life long has loved the snow
That crowned her native summits drear,
Better, than greenest plains below –
And voiceless, soulless messenger
Thy presence waked a thrilling tone
That comforts me while thou art here
And will sustain when thou art gone
– Emily Brontë
Morning rising in mourning grey: tobacco flower, white oud, lavender bud, and ambergris accord.