Lovely

  • Ava

    It’s always a bit weird with family. A scant two-hundred years old, there doesn’t seem to be anything that roots Ava to her past. Her scent is utterly contemporary, and, like her personality, it is impulsive, capricious, and dangerous. Voluptuous and brittle, lovely and toxic:  sheer vanilla musk with tuberose, red mandarin, and the sweet poison of white almond.

    Add to cart
  • Bathsheba

    The Seventh Daughter, Daughter of the Oath. She was King David’s lover, and the mother of King Solomon. Her scent is breathtakingly lovely, exotic and powerfully sensual in its innocence: carnation, sensual plum, and Arabian musk.

    Select Options
  • Black Pearl

    Evocative of the sea’s unplumbed mysteries. Gentle and lovely, but menacing and profound. Coconut, Florentine iris, hazelnut and opalescent white musk.

    Select Options
  • Dorian

    The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself.

    Inspired by and created for my beloved Tedwin: my eternal, beautiful, wicked Dorian Gray. Refined, elegant, and lovely, with a noble bearing and seemingly gentle air. This blend is an artful deception: a sweet gilded blossom lying over a twisted and corrupted core. A Victorian fougere with three pale musks and dark, sugared vanilla tea.

    Select Options
  • Katharina

    A strong, willful blend with a soft, utterly lovely soul: white musk with a trickle of bright, sharp apricot and orange blossom.

    Select Options
  • La Belle au Bois Dormant

    The Sleeping Beauty. A gentle, lovely scent, slightly soporific, but beautiful in its quiet repose. Plumeria and white pear, Damascus rose, tuberose, magnolia and evening dew.

    Select Options
  • Persephone

    Beautiful, radiant daughter of Demeter… her lovliness was so exquisite that even Hell itself could not resist her. Pomegranate and rose.

    Select Options
  • Poisoned Apple

    The queen stepped before her mirror:

    Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
    Who in this land is fairest of all?

    The mirror answered:

    You, my queen, are fair; it is true.
    But Little Snow-White with the seven dwarfs
    Is a thousand times fairer than you.

    When the queen heard this, she shook and trembled with anger, “Snow-White will die, if it costs me my life!” Then she went into her most secret room — no one else was allowed inside — and she made a poisoned, poisoned apple. From the outside it was red and beautiful, and anyone who saw it would want it. Then she disguised herself as a peasant woman, went to the dwarfs’ house and knocked on the door.

    Snow-White peeped out and said, “I’m not allowed to let anyone in. The dwarfs have forbidden it most severely.”

    “If you don’t want to, I can’t force you,” said the peasant woman. “I am selling these apples, and I will give you one to taste.”

    “No, I can’t accept anything. The dwarfs don’t want me to.”

    “If you are afraid, then I will cut the apple in two and eat half of it. Here, you eat the half with the beautiful red cheek!” Now the apple had been so artfully made that only the red half was poisoned. When Snow-White saw that the peasant woman was eating part of the apple, her desire for it grew stronger, so she finally let the woman hand her the other half through the window. She bit into it, but she barely had the bite in her mouth when she fell to the ground dead.

    The queen was happy, went home, and asked her mirror:

    Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
    Who in this land is fairest of all?

    And it answered:

    You, my queen, are fairest of all.

    A perfect, lovely, gleaming red apple whose sweetness masks a swirl of narcotic opium, oleander, and hemlock.

    Select Options