Lupercalia Main 2024
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Fancy Pups Beard Oil
Out of StockI am his Highness’ dog at Kew,
Pray tell me sir, whose dog are you?
― Alexander Pope
A genteel affair that presses against the constraints of common decency: tumescent black silk, pink sugared patent leather, rich tobacco leaf, sunrise papaya, and mango cream with crystalline trickles of clean pup sweat.
Illustration by Maximiliano Pino
Instagram: @jugodepapaya
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Fancy Pups Perfume Oil
Out of StockI am his Highness’ dog at Kew,
Pray tell me sir, whose dog are you?
― Alexander Pope
A genteel affair that presses against the constraints of common decency: tumescent black silk, pink sugared patent leather, rich tobacco leaf, sunrise papaya, and mango cream with crystalline trickles of clean pup sweat.
Illustration by Maximiliano Pino
Instagram: @jugodepapaya
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Green Maraschino Perfume Oil
Out of StockUnnaturally appealing, radiant with an unwholesome luster! Peppermint-laced preserved cherries soaking in thick lime syrup, dashed with a sliver of yuzu.
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Heart Beet Perfume Oil
Out of StockI bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you.― Walt Whitman
Raw, wet beets, pulsating blood musk, and raw wild ginger.
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Madrigal Perfume Oil
Out of StockVous me baisez comme une soeur:
Ces baisers sont pleins de douceur;
Mais souffrez que je les condamne.
Je ne suis qu’un mortel, ô[ô] nouvelle Diane,
Pourquoi me traitez-vous ainsi qu’un Apollon?
Je serai trop heureux du sort d’Endimion.
You kiss me like a sister,
Kisses filled with sweetness;
Yet you must allow me to condemn them,
For I’m only mortal, my Diane;
Why treat me like Apollo great?
I’d be so happy with Endymion’s fate.
– Pauline de Simiane
Sweet, sorrowful, doomed longing: somnambulic lavender, wild plum, Siamese benzoin, and sugared opium tar. -
Melon Cream Cake Perfume Oil
Out of StockWhipped cream squished between luscious layers of pale green sponge, topped with hunks of syrup-glazed honeydew.
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Pistachio Ambrosia Perfume Oil
Out of StockA whipped green dream, pale and pillowy with multicolored mini marshmallows, densely studded with bits of pineapple, mandarin, and shredded coconut.
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Poet’s Hearts Break So Perfume Oil
Out of StockWell, if my heart must break,
Dear love, for your sake,
It will break in music, I know;
Poets’ hearts break so.
But strange that I was not told,
That the brain can hold
In a tiny ivory cell
God’s Heaven and Hell.
– Oscar Wilde
The shuddering beat of a poet’s heart ― filigree-fair, diaphanous: bourbon vanilla fougere, violet leaf, iris root, Italian bergamot, porcelain accord, and a trickle of red musk. -
Poppies Perfume Oil
Out of StockLilies, lilies not for me,
Flowers of the pure and saintly ―
I have seen in holy places
Where the incense rises faintly,
And the priest the chalice raises,
Lilies in the altar vases,
Not for me.
Leave untouched each garden tree,
Kings and queens of flower-land.
When the summer evening closes,
Lovers may-be hand in hand
There will seek for crimson roses,
There will bind their wreaths and posies
Merrily.
From the corn-fields where we met
Pluck me poppies white and red;
Bind them round my weary brain,
Strew them on my narrow bed,
Numbing all the ache and pain. ―
I shall sleep nor wake again,
But forget.
– Digby Mackworth Dolben
Crimson roses, poppies white and red. -
Sister Death Perfume Oil
Out of StockMy sister Death! I pray thee come to me
Of thy sweet charity,
And be my nurse but for a little while;
I will indeed lie still,
And not detain thee long, when once is spread,
Beneath the yew, my bed:
I will not ask for lillies or for roses;
But when the evening closes,
Just take from any brook a single knot
Of pale Forget-me-not,
And lay them in my hand, until I wake,
For his dear sake;
(For should he ever pass and by me stand,
He might understand ―)
Then heal the passion and the fever
With one cool kiss, for ever.
– Digby Mackworth Dolben
Pale gilded lilies and roses in the labdanum shadow of a yew tree, a sprig of forget-me-not, the dwindling memory of a genteel cologne, and the honeyed breathlessness of a kiss.
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Smut Perfume Oil
Out of StockWe are the smuttiest. Three swarthy, smutty musks sweetened with sugar and woozy with dark booze notes.
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The Serpent in the Carnations Perfume Oil
Out of StockSnake Oil-soaked carnation petals, spiked with a dash of clove and allspice.
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The Serpent in the Roses Perfume Oil
Out of StockSnake Oil dribbling across a cluster of amber-flecked, blackened rose petals.
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Womb Furie Perfume Oil
Out of StockIn the middle of the flanks of women lies the womb, a female viscus, closely resembling an animal; for it is moved of itself hither and thither in the flanks, also upwards in a direct line to below the cartilage of the thorax and also obliquely to the right or to the left, either to the liver or spleen; and it likewise is subject to falling downwards, and, in a word, it is altogether erratic. It delights, also, in fragrant smells, and advances towards them; and it has an aversion to fetid smells, and flees from them; and on the whole the womb is like an animal within an animal.
– Aretaeus the Cappadocian
Oh, that wily womb! Hippocrates and his followers considered the womb a mobile creature, causing mayhem as it writhed its way through a woman’s body. Sometimes this ornery organ, due to lack of sexual activity, would create conflicts within a woman’s system or would become blocked itself, causing anxiety, nervousness, water retention, and sleeplessness. With the assistance of doctors, nursemaids, hand tools, or, occasionally, self-manipulation, this vexing condition could be alleviated through hysterical paroxysms.
Or, as we call it nowadays: orgasm.
An itch that needs to be scratched: Snake Oil and three types of honey.