Dandelions

  • A Windmill on a Polder Waterway Perfume Oil

    Known as ‘In the Month of July’

    Paul Joseph Constantin Gabriël

     

    Billowing clouds of iris root drift behind aged wood, pond water, wild grasses, dandelions, and horsetail.

    Out of Stock

  • Our Little Crypt Ghoul Perfume Oil

    Almost every year, Teddy and I used to go to Wicked Lit, a live production that took place in Mountain View cemetery during the Halloween season. We’d been waiting excitedly for the moment that Lilith was old enough to join us, and 2019 was the year. Sadly, it was the last performance of Wicked Lit at the cemetery; they won’t be doing the performances anymore. It’s… bittersweet. I’m so glad we were able to take her at least once, and I’m crushed that it won’t happen again.

    Lilith among the graves waiting for the show to start: warm apple cider, wild sage and crushed grass, soft soil, big squirreltail, and dandelions.

    Out of Stock

  • Purslane, Dandelions, and Petrichor Perfume Oil

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  • Sinister Groundskeeper Perfume Oil

    A menacing figure in grassy overalls and mud-flecked boots, with a wheelbarrow full of sharp yet rust-stained implements. At least, it looks like rust…

    Clods of moist soil, crushed dandelions, and the coppery clove-tang of dried blood.

    Out of Stock
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    Sinkhole Perfume Oil

    We have the best sinkholes. Terrific sinkholes. Our sinkholes are tremendous. YUUUGE. No administration has ever had a sinkhole like this, believe me. Obama didn’t have sinkholes. Sad!

    The scent of a swamp self-draining: globs of wet earth, crushed grass, and untended dandelions sliding into a morass of moss-crusted opoponax, labdanum, and tar.

    Proceeds from the sale of this scent benefit the American Civil Liberties Union.

    Out of Stock
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    The Hare Perfume Oil

    In the black furrow of a field
    I saw an old witch-hare this night;
    And she cocked her lissome ear,
    And she eyed the moon so bright,
    And she nibbled o’ the green;
    And I whispered ‘Whsst! witch-hare,’
    Away like a ghostie o’er the field
    She fled, and left the moonlight there.

    A leaper between worlds, the tiny trickster; she soars through liminal spaces, dancing in the strange shadows of dawn and twilight.

    Warm fur and mandrake root, blue sage and tall grasses, honeysuckle-tinged moonlight, carrot seed, comfrey, and dandelion.

    Out of Stock