Musk - Brown

  • Bat Jockeys Label

    Bat Jockeys Perfume Oil

    We come to wish you all a bright new year.

    What could possibly be better than new year’s batty blessings? Mandarin-infused amber, tonka bean, peppery brown musk, hazelnut, and saffron cream.

    Add to cart
  • This image is decorative

    Bears of Berlin Perfume Oil

    Even in utero, Lilith had a full head of hair. She looked like a Monchhichi when she was born, and from the moment I first saw her, I called her Bear. She’s my Baby Bear, Bunnybear, Bearington, Beanie Bear. I made up bear bedtime stories for her – we still tell each other bear jokes all the time. Every time I see a bear video or meme, I save it for her, my little Princess Bear.

    While we were in Berlin, we made a point of taking photos with as many Buddy Bears as possible. They’re intended to symbolize peace, tolerance, and understanding between religions, nations, and cultures worldwide, and Lilith knows how important that is – especially now.

    Sweet buttered rum, brown musk, wildflower honey, tonka bean, labdanum, and clove.

    Out of Stock
  • This image is decorative

    Cat Event Exorcist Perfume Oil

    Get thee behind me, kitty! Sleek, buttery brown musk, clove husk, frankincense, holy water, olive wood crucifixes, and hairball accord.


    (Just kidding: no hairballs.)

    Out of Stock
  • This image is decorative

    Cheerful Oxen Perfume Oil

    Warm brown musk, honey, patchouli, hay absolute, and brown oud.

    Out of Stock
  • This image is decorative

    Diana Perfume Oil

    My temple stands in Ephesus: hie thee thither,
    And do upon mine altar sacrifice.
    There, when my maiden priests are met together,
    before the people all,
    Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife:
    To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughter’s, call
    And give them repetition to the life.
    Or perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe;
    Do it, and happy; by my silver bow!

    Artemis, standing in her golden chariot… driving off with her fast-trotting deer over the hills and far away to some rich-scented sacrifice: leather, gleaming golden amber, red amaranth, cypress, asphodel accord, a gleam of silver, and soft brown musk.

    Add to cart
  • photo of a longhorn bull

    Judgmental Longhorn Perfume Oil

    He knows what you’ve been up to. Sweet tonka, smoked vanilla, benzoin, labdanum, amber, hay absolute, cacao absolute, and soft brown musk.

    Add to cart
  • This image is decorative

    Moons of Saturn: Hati Perfume Oil

    East sat the crone,

    in Iárnvidir,

    Fenrir’s progeny:

    of all shall be

    one especially

    the moon’s devourer,

    in a troll’s semblance.

    Hati Hróðvitnisson, He Who Hates, the Enemy, He Who Swallows the Moon. The son of Fenris, he feasts on the flesh of the dead and on the final day, he will devour the moon and spatter the skies with blood.

    He is sated with the last breath

    of dying men;

    the gods’ seat he

    with red gore defiles:

    swart is the sunshine

    then for summers after;

    all weather turns to storm.

    Frost-limned fur, hackles hunched with insatiable, implacable rage, and death-white fangs crusted with clove-tinted blood.

    Out of Stock
  • Partridges in the Snow Perfume Oil

    Józef Chełmonski

    A bundle of roasted chestnut, oak bark, sawdust, balsam, and warm brown musk against a backdrop of white sandalwood, orris butter, and juniper.

    Out of Stock
  • This image is decorative

    Raccoon Moon Perfume Oil

    Many years ago, Ted and I woke up to the sound of footsteps. It was incredibly disconcerting; the tread was heavy and even, and it sounded just like a full-grown man was walking on our roof. Ted grabbed our officially-licensed Shaun of the Dead cricket bat, I grabbed a flashlight, and we tried to figure out if someone was breaking into our house. We couldn’t find anything, so we went to check the attic. I’ll tell you…opening up your pitch black attic in the middle of a pitch black night armed with only a cricket bat and a Maglite is some serious horror movie shit. Few things test your mettle like realizing you’re absolutely /not/ the Final Girl in a slasher film because you’re creeping through an attic at midnight while investigating strange sounds. Anyway, the thuds and thumps kept happening, and eventually we figured out that raccoons were humping on our roof.

    Every year since, raccoons have consistently found the atmosphere on our roof conducive to romance.

    Now, I’ve been trying and trying to write something profound and poetic to describe this scent, but this really is a perfume about raccoons schtupping. For the bulk of the US, February is the harbinger of Raccoon Sexytimes, and for the next month my whole family will get woken up by the thumps and squeals of frantically lusty raccoons using our roof as a No Tell Motel.

    Bring out the amorous trash panda in you: a winter’s backdrop of slush, snow-covered evergreens, juniper, and winter gardenia with sweet brown musk, rooty patchouli, spicy birch, hay absolute, osmanthus, and a pile of uprooted pansies.

    The accompanying Lunacy Tee can be found here! Art by the inimitable Dan Santat!

    Out of Stock
  • This image is decorative

    Ruhende Ziege Mit Kitzchen Perfume Oil

    Johann Christian Reinhart

    Brown musk, leather, castoreum accord, white cedar, amber oudh, and clove bud.

    Out of Stock
  • This image is decorative

    The Bird of Prey Perfume Oil

    Feathery brown musk and hay absolute with orris and leather.

    Out of Stock
  • This image is decorative

    The Buffalo Man Perfume Oil

    Darkness; a sensation of falling—as if he were tumbling down a great hole, like Alice. He fell for a hundred years into darkness. Faces passed him, swimming out of the black, then each face was ripped up and away before he could touch it . . .

    Abruptly, and without transition, he was not falling. Now he was in a cave, and he was no longer alone. Shadow stared into familiar eyes: huge, liquid black eyes. They blinked.

    Under the earth: yes. He remembered this place. The stink of wet cow. Firelight flickered on the wet cave walls, illuminating the buffalo head, the man’s body, skin the color of brick clay.

    “Can’t you people leave me be?” asked Shadow. “I just want to sleep.”

    The buffalo man nodded, slowly. His lips did not move, but a voice in Shadow’s head said, “Where are you going, Shadow?”



    “Where else have I got to go? It’s where Wednesday wants me to go. I drank his mead.” In Shadow’s dream, with the power of dream logic behind it, the obligation seemed unarguable: he drank Wednesday’s mead three times, and sealed the pact—what other choice of action did he have?

    The buffalo-headed man reached a hand into the fire, stirring the embers and the broken branches into a blaze. “The storm is coming,” he said. Now there was ash on his hands, and he wiped it onto his hairless chest, leaving soot-black streaks.

    “So you people keep telling me. Can I ask you a question?”

    There was a pause. A fly settled on the furry forehead. The buffalo man flicked it away. “Ask.”

    “Is this true? Are these people really gods? It’s all so . . .” He paused. Then he said, “impossible,” which was not exactly the word he had been going for but seemed to be the best he could do.

    “What are gods?” asked the buffalo man.

    “I don’t know,” said Shadow.

    Warm dark brown musk, woodsmoke, and deep pools of labdanum.

    Add to cart
  • The Triple Crown Perfume Oil

    Dominion over the Three Worlds and the realms of vegetable, mineral, and animal, mind, body, and spirit, id, ego, and superego, heaven, earth, and hell.

    A glittering diadem of golden amber suffused with crushed greenery, stone accord, and brown musk, elemi, rice milk, and vanilla bean, storax, patchouli, and vetiver, frankincense, Mysore sandalwood, and myrrh.

    Out of Stock
  • Year of the Ox Perfume Oil

    Soft brown musk, black peppercorn, tobacco absolute, hiba wood, and cognac.

    Out of Stock