Musk - Brown
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Bat Jockeys Perfume Oil
Add to cartWe 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.
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Bears of Berlin Perfume Oil
Out of StockEven 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.
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Cat Event Exorcist Perfume Oil
Out of StockGet thee behind me, kitty! Sleek, buttery brown musk, clove husk, frankincense, holy water, olive wood crucifixes, and hairball accord.
(Just kidding: no hairballs.)
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Cheerful Oxen Perfume Oil
Out of StockWarm brown musk, honey, patchouli, hay absolute, and brown oud.
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Diana Perfume Oil
Add to cartMy 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.
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Judgmental Longhorn Perfume Oil
Add to cartHe knows what you’ve been up to. Sweet tonka, smoked vanilla, benzoin, labdanum, amber, hay absolute, cacao absolute, and soft brown musk.
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Moons of Saturn: Hati Perfume Oil
Out of StockEast 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.
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Raccoon Moon Perfume Oil
Out of StockMany 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!
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Ruhende Ziege Mit Kitzchen Perfume Oil
Out of StockJohann Christian Reinhart
Brown musk, leather, castoreum accord, white cedar, amber oudh, and clove bud.
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The Bird of Prey Perfume Oil
Out of StockFeathery brown musk and hay absolute with orris and leather.
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The Buffalo Man Perfume Oil
Add to cartDarkness; 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?”
“Cairo.”
“Why?”
“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.
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The Triple Crown Perfume Oil
Out of StockDominion 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.
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Year of the Ox Perfume Oil
Out of StockSoft brown musk, black peppercorn, tobacco absolute, hiba wood, and cognac.