Clove Bud
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Flaxen Flame Perfume Oil
Out of StockGolden gusts of gilded amber and dragon’s blood heated by clove bud, white peppercorn, and allspice.
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Harvest Moon 2023 Perfume Oil
Out of StockA scarecrow’s cologne, crunchy with hay and spattered with foamy, sweet soil: a cornmeal fougere with patchouli root, clove bud, honey stout, roasted oats, fermented apple pulp, and bourbon cream.
Art by Drew Rausch!
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Harvest Moon 2024 Perfume Oil
Add to cartA scarecrow’s cologne, crunchy with hay and spattered with foamy, sweet soil: a cornmeal fougere with patchouli root, clove bud, honey stout, roasted oats, fermented apple pulp, and bourbon cream.
Art by Drew Rausch!
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Insatiable Widow Perfume Oil
Out of StockJasmine tea and lapsang souchong, white ginger, clove bud, soft lichen, osmanthus buds, green patchouli, and amber.
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Jovial Tengu Making Love to Four Women Perfume Oil
Out of StockPink carnation, clove bud, pink peonies, Tahitian vanilla, sweet amber, and opium poppy accord.
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Let America Be America Again Perfume Oil
Add to cartLet America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed-
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean-
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today-O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home-
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”The free?
Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay-
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.O, let America be America again-
The land that never has been yet-
And yet must be-the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine-the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME-
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.Sure, call me any ugly name you choose-
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath-
America will be!Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain-
All, all the stretch of these great green states-
And make America again!
– Langston HughesO, let America be America again – the land that never has been yet: waving green grasses, purple-hued amber, smoked sandalwood, bay rum, clove bud, cardamom, and black pepper.
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Roses, Pearls, and Onyx Perfume Oil
Out of StockBlack roses, Pashmina oud, clove bud, opoponax, kyphi smoke, tobacco absolute, and orris butter.
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Seven Inches of Blood Perfume Oil
Add to cartThe grave of the Countess Mircalla was opened; and the General and my father recognized each his perfidious and beautiful guest, in the face now disclosed to view. The features, though a hundred and fifty years had passed since her funeral, were tinted with the warmth of life. Her eyes were open; no cadaverous smell exhaled from the coffin. The two medical men, one officially present, the other on the part of the promoter of the inquiry, attested the marvelous fact that there was a faint but appreciable respiration, and a corresponding action of the heart. The limbs were perfectly flexible, the flesh elastic; and the leaden coffin floated with blood, in which to a depth of seven inches, the body lay immersed.
A shimmering pool of coppery red musk, Dracaena cinnabari, clove bud, cacao, and lead. -
Spirit Fingers Perfume Oil
Add to cartWhat do we want?
TO GIVE THEM THE FINGER!When do we want it?
OH MY GOD ALL THE FUCKING TIME??A giant foam fuck you: cotton candy, red pepper, and clove bud.
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The Truth Lies in Old Books Perfume Oil
Out of StockMarian Wawrzeniecki
Cracked leather binding and aged, yellowing, blood-soaked paper, clove bud, green silk, sandalwood incense, agarwood, black sesame, and thorns. -
Vision Perfume Oil
Add to cartCarolus-Duran
Scarlet silk, peonies, pink rose petals, neroli, woodmoss, clove bud, carnation cream, and skin musk. -
Woman as Dragon Perfume Oil
Add to cart“The archaic mother – the mother who reproduces without male permission for her own satisfaction – is the least human of the female monsters because she poses the most profound existential threat… The Mother is female bodily self-determination, full-fledged and uncontrollable, out of the ocean and stomping skyscrapers, turning the male world to rubble. She is what happens when the Furies come home.”
A fiery red musk with crushed ginger root, black upturned soil, dragon’s blood resin, clove bud, pink peppercorn, tobacco absolute, red amber, patchouli, black oud, blood-caked tar, vetiver, and cedar.