Lupercalia Main 2024

  • FANCY PUPS

    Fancy Pups Beard Oil

    I 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

    Patreon

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  • FANCY PUPS

    Fancy Pups Perfume Oil

    I 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

    Patreon

    Add to cart
  • GREEN MARASCHINO

    Green Maraschino Perfume Oil

    Unnaturally 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

    Heart Beet Perfume Oil

    I 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

    Madrigal Perfume Oil

    Vous 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.

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  • MELON CREAM CAKE

    Melon Cream Cake Perfume Oil

    Whipped cream squished between luscious layers of pale green sponge, topped with hunks of syrup-glazed honeydew.

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  • PISTACHIO AMBROSIA

    Pistachio Ambrosia Perfume Oil

    A whipped green dream, pale and pillowy with multicolored mini marshmallows, densely studded with bits of pineapple, mandarin, and shredded coconut.

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  • poets hearts break so

    Poet’s Hearts Break So Perfume Oil

    Well, 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.

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  • poppies

    Poppies Perfume Oil

    Lilies, 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.

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  • RHUBARB CUSTARD MUFFINS

    Rhubarb Custard Muffins Perfume Oil

    +This muffin bites back: tender chunks of tart rhubarb stalks spangled with oven-browned sugar crystals, nestled in a crown of golden cake generously marbled with jet-streams of warm custard.

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  • sister death

    Sister Death Perfume Oil

    My 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

    Smut Perfume Oil

    We 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

    The Serpent in the Carnations Perfume Oil

    Snake Oil-soaked carnation petals, spiked with a dash of clove and allspice.

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  • THE SERPENT IN THE ROSES

    The Serpent in the Roses Perfume Oil

    Snake Oil dribbling across a cluster of amber-flecked, blackened rose petals.

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  • womb furie

    Womb Furie Perfume Oil

    In 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.

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