Nutmeg

  • A Savage Veil, Severe and Strong

    Black plum, 7-year aged patchouli, nutmeg, and tobacco leaf.

    Proceeds from the sale of both of the Hymn to the Erinyes scents benefit RAINN, the United States’ largest anti-sexual violence organization. RAINN operates the National Sexual Assault Hotline, and provides programs to help survivors, prevent sexual violence, and ensure that offenders are brought to justice.

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  • Aeronwen

    Fig, dark myrrh, amber, redwood, nutmeg, tarragon, black musk, and sweet orange.

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  • All Hallows Chaos: Samhain

    “Invention, it must be humbly admitted, does not consist in creating out of void, but out of chaos.”
    ― Mary Shelley, 1831

    This Samhain, we’re reveling in the desecration of a classic blend: “Damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.”

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  • Baghdad – Resurrected

    Amber, saffron and bergamot with mandarin, nutmeg, Bulgar rose, musk and sandalwood.

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  • Egg Nog

    Sweet brandy, dark rum, heavy cream, sugar, and a dash of nutmeg.

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  • Frumenty

    ‘To make frumente. Tak clene whete & braye yt wel in a morter tyl the holes gon of; seethe it til it breste in water. Nym it up & lat it cole. Tak good broth & swete mylk of kyn or of almand & tempere it therwith. Nym yelkes of eyren rawe & saffroun & cast therto; salt it: lat it naught boyle after the etren ben cast therinne. Messe it forth.’

    In parts of rural England, the last sheaf of grain from autumn’s harvest were added to a sweet porridge that was eaten on Christmas morning to ensure good health and strength during the dark of the year.

    Cracked wheat cooked in cream and ale with currants, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger.

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  • Gnome

    An explosive blend of effervescent golden ginger and black peppercorn with sarsaparilla, gurjum balsam, nutmeg, gear lubricant, and smoke.

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  • Jack

    The scent of warm, glowing jack o’lanterns on a warm autumn night: true Halloween pumpkin, spiced with nutmeg, glowing peach and murky clove.

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  • Lambs-Wool

    According to William Shepard Walsh, the Gentleman’s Magazine for May of 1784 stated, “this is a constant ingredient at merrymaking on Holy Eve.” He also quotes Vallancey’s etymological speculation: “The first day of November was dedicated to the angel presiding over fruits, seeds, etc., and was therefore named La Mas Ubhal, — that is, the day of the apple fruit, — and being pronounced Lamasool, the English have corrupted the name to Lambs-wool.”

    A popular holy day beverage in 18th century Ireland: roasted apples mashed into warmed milk and ale, with nutmeg, sugar, ginger, and clove.

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  • Le Lèthè

    Viens sur mon coeur, âme cruelle et sourde,
    Tigre adoré, monstre aux airs indolents;
    Je veux longtemps plonger mes doigts tremblants
    Dans l’épaisseur de ta crinière lourde;

    Dans tes jupons remplis de ton parfum
    Ensevelir ma tête endolorie,
    Et respirer, comme une fleur flétrie,
    Le doux relent de mon amour défunt.

    Je veux dormir! dormir plutôt que vivre!
    Dans un sommeil aussi doux que la mort,
    J’étalerai mes baisers sans remords
    Sur ton beau corps poli comme le cuivre.

    Pour engloutir mes sanglots apaisés
    Rien ne me vaut l’abîme de ta couche;
    L’oubli puissant habite sur ta bouche,
    Et le Léthé coule dans tes baisers.

    À mon destin, désormais mon délice,
    J’obéirai comme un prédestiné;
    Martyr docile, innocent condamné,
    Dont la ferveur attise le supplice,

    Je sucerai, pour noyer ma rancoeur,
    Le népenthès et la bonne ciguë
    Aux bouts charmants de cette gorge aiguë
    Qui n’a jamais emprisonné de coeur.

    – – –

    Come, lie upon my breast, cruel, insensitive soul,
    Adored tigress, monster with the indolent air;
    I want to plunge trembling fingers for a long time
    In the thickness of your heavy mane,

    To bury my head, full of pain
    In your skirts redolent of your perfume,
    To inhale, as from a withered flower,
    The moldy sweetness of my defunct love.

    I wish to sleep! to sleep rather than live!
    In a slumber doubtful as death,
    I shall remorselessly cover with my kisses
    Your lovely body polished like copper.

    To bury my subdued sobbing
    Nothing equals the abyss of your bed,
    Potent oblivion dwells upon your lips
    And Lethe flows in your kisses.

    My fate, hereafter my delight,
    I’ll obey like one predestined;
    Docile martyr, innocent man condemned,
    Whose fervor aggravates the punishment.

    I shall suck, to drown my rancor,
    Nepenthe and the good hemlock
    From the charming tips of those pointed breasts
    That have never guarded a heart.

    Red musk and sweat-damp golden skin musk with labdanum, golden amber, nutmeg, tobacco absolute, black orchid, and hemlock accord.

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  • Mama-Ji

    Shadow saw the old woman, her dark face pinched with age and disapproval, but behind her he saw something huge, a naked woman with skin as black as a new leather jacket, and lips and tongue the bright red of arterial blood. Around her neck were skulls, and her many hands held knives, and swords, and severed heads.

    Spices, cardamom, nutmeg, and flowers.

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  • Mincemeat Pie

    No minces were harmed in the making of this pie perfume.

    Figs, raisins, dried cherries, and suet accord (vegan-safe!) steeped in dark brown sugar, crystallized ginger, lemon and orange zest, nutmeg, allspice, and clove, embraced by an apple cider cornmeal crust.

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  • Plunder

    The scent of a pirate’s bumboat, overflowing with stolen wares: tea leaf, cassia, cinnamon bark, clove, allspice, sandalwood, tobacco, peppercorn, and nutmeg.

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  • Roses, Pearls and Diamonds

    The youngest, who was the very picture of her father for courtesy and sweetness of temper, was withal one of the most beautiful girls ever seen. As people naturally love their own likeness, this mother even doted on her eldest daughter and at the same time had a horrible aversion for the youngest–she made her eat in the kitchen and work continually.

    Among other things, this poor child was forced twice a day to draw water above a mile and a-half off the house, and bring home a pitcher full of it. One day, as she was at this fountain, there came to her a poor woman, who begged of her to let her drink. 

    “Oh! ay, with all my heart, Goody,” said this pretty little girl; and rinsing immediately the pitcher, she took up some water from the clearest place of the fountain, and gave it to her, holding up the pitcher all the while, that she might drink the easier. 

    The good woman, having drunk, said to her: 

    You are so very pretty, my dear, so good and so mannerly, that I cannot help giving you a gift.” For this was a fairy, who had taken the form of a poor country woman, to see how far the civility and good manners of this pretty girl would go. “I will give you for a gift,” continued the Fairy, “that, at every word you speak, there shall come out of your mouth either a flower or a jewel.” 

    When this pretty girl came home her mother scolded her for staying so long at the fountain. 

    “I beg your pardon, mamma,” said the poor girl, “for not making more haste.” 

    And in speaking these words there came out of her mouth two roses, two pearls, and two diamonds.

    Red roses, dazzling crystalline musks, and pearlescent coconut-tinged orris.

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  • Samhain

    Truly the scent of autumn itself — damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.

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  • Spider

    There was a family resemblance between the two men. That was unarguable, although that alone did not explain the intense feeling of familiarity that Fat Charlie felt on seeing Spider. His brother looked like Fat Charlie wished he looked in his mind…Spider was taller, and leaner, and cooler. He was wearing a black-and-scarlet leather jacket, and black leather leggings, and he looked at home in them…There was something larger-than-life about him: simply being on the other side of the table to this man made Fat Charlie feel awkward and badly consructed, and slightly foolish. It wasn’t the clothes Spider wore, but the knowledge that if Fat Charlie put them on he would look as if he were wearing some kind of unconvincing drag. It wasn’t the way Spider smiled–casually, delightedly–but Fat Charlies’s cold, incontrovertible certainty that he himself could practice smiling in front of a mirror from now until the end of time and never manage a single smile one half so charming, so cocky, or so twinklingly debonair.

    White ginger, artemesia, vetiver, nutmeg, King mandarin, bergamot, and lime.

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