Abe SapienAdd to cart
A soft aquatic musk with kelp and juniper.
The Native American Creator / Trickster God of Chaos and Change.
The warmth of doeskin, dry plains grasses and soft, dusty woods warmed by amber and a downy, gentle coat of deep musk.
Gorg’s GardenAdd to cart
The Fraggles raid the Gorgs' garden for the vegetables (particularly the radishes) that they eat.
Radishes, freshly-turned soil, and soft herbs.
A soft, sensual, luxuriant blend with a wicked bite: hazelnut, buttercream, honey mead, rum and sweet almond.
A strong, willful blend with a soft, utterly lovely soul: white musk with a trickle of bright, sharp apricot and orange blossom.
Immersed in his (eternal) life’s work, holding on to his memories, suffused with a love of life and literature, Kit’s scent is soft and dry as bone: Mysore sandalwood a tattered and patched 16th century waistcoat, inkstained, still scented with the marjoram and benzoin dry perfumes of his youth.
La Bella Donna Della Mia MenteSelect options
My limbs are wasted with a flame,
My feet are sore with traveling,
For, calling on my Lady's name,
My lips have now forgot to sing.
O Linnet in the wild-rose brake
Strain for my Love thy melody,
O Lark sing louder for love's sake,
My gentle Lady passeth by.
She is too fair for any man
To see or hold his heart's delight,
Fairer than Queen or courtesan
Or moonlit water in the night.
Her hair is bound with myrtle leaves,
(Green leaves upon her golden hair!)
Green grasses through the yellow sheaves
Of autumn corn are not more fair.
Her little lips, more made to kiss
Than to cry bitterly for pain,
Are tremulous as brook-water is,
Or roses after evening rain.
Her neck is like white melilote
Flushing for pleasure of the sun,
The throbbing of the linnet's throat
Is not so sweet to look upon.
As a pomegranate, cut in twain,
White-seeded, is her crimson mouth,
Her cheeks are as the fading stain
Where the peach reddens to the south.
O twining hands! O delicate
White body made for love and pain!
O House of love! O desolate
Pale flower beaten by the rain!
Soft, lush myrtle and dry, sweet melilot with wild rose, pomegranate juice and peach blossom against a background of deep aquatic notes and a twirl of melancholy autumn breezes.
Lucy’s KissSelect options
Created to represent the essence of Bram Stoker’s tragic heroine, Lucy Westenra. Seductive, wanton and deadly, but underscored with a soft, wistful innocense. The gentle scent of rose and a blend of Victorian spices
Norman’s GrandmaAdd to cart
A soft, ethereal scent suffused with gentle comfort. A remembrance of tea roses, lilacs, and soothing hugs.
We’ve finally caved in to years of requests for vampiric scents.
As soft as grave dust and as dry as a breath drawn within a long forgotten crypt, this is Nosferatu: desiccated herbs and gritty earth brought to life with a swell of robust and sanguineous red wines.
The King of the White Cloth, King of the Orishas, the First Among Equals. He is the King of Power, and his weapon is wisdom. He is the essence of honored maturity, wisdom through age and experience, purity of intention, virtue, humility, tolerance, judicious use of power, the knowledge of what is truly right and wrong, the moral code, and the obligation to do what is right. Obatala is the Creator God, who first fashioned mankind from clay; thus, he is also the first sculptor and potter. The human head itself is Obatala’s creation, and it is through it that he grants us the ability to discern genuine morality as opposed to oppressive, mistaken and arrogant self-righteousness. His is not the falsehood of societal boundaries, His Truth is the understanding of one’s own character and the obligations that we all have to our world, our Gods, and one another. He is the Benevolent Judge, calm and lucid, and he governs rational deliberation. His color is white, as His spirit is free from any soil or stain, and His energy radiates sanctified purity, great wisdom, happiness and internal peace. He is associated with cloth, as that was one of His gifts to mankind. The aspects of Obatala are symbolized by the chameleon, boa constrictor, elephant, gorilla, and snail. Obatala is the Lord of Laughter, for it is through wisdom that one may see the joy in life, and through laughter we are able to see the follies of mankind not with cynicism and derision, but with humor, compassion and understanding. Obatala’s Laughter helps soothe the pain of life’s rigors, and takes the sting out of the harshest of life’s lessons. Obatala’s ofrenda is soft, white and pure: milk, coconut meat, shea butter and cool, refreshing water.
Orchid, white musk, and bergamot wafting over juniper berries, with a gentle touch of soft, earthy patchouli.
Sensual, decadent, and enigmatic. Lavender, softly underscored by lotus and spice.
Pink SnowballsAdd to cart
A lighthearted winter scent: chilly vanilla rose snowballs! Dainty, soft, and certainly unfit for flinging!
Soft, well-worn black leather, hemp, and rosin.
“Take it, then,” the Tsar said, “and bid her do it for me.” The old woman brought the linen home and told Vasilissa the Tsar's command: “Well I knew that the work would needs be done by my own hands,” said Vasilissa, and, locking herself in her own room, began to make the shirts. So fast and well did she work that soon a dozen were ready. Then the old woman carried them to the Tsar, while Vasilissa washed her face, dressed her hair, put on her best gown and sat down at the window to see what would happen. And presently a servant in the livery of the Palace came to the house and entering, said: “The Tsar, our lord, desires himself to see the clever needlewoman who has made his shirts and to reward her with his own hands.”
Vasilissa rose and went at once to the Palace, and as soon as the Tsar saw her, he fell in love with her with all his soul. He took her by her white hand and made her sit beside him. “Beautiful maiden,” he said, “never will I part from thee and thou shalt be my wife.”
So the Tsar and Vasilissa the Beautiful were married, and her father returned from the far-distant Tsardom, and he and the old woman lived always with her in the splendid Palace, in all joy and contentment. And as for the little wooden doll, she carried it about with her in her pocket all her life long.
She herself had cheeks like blood and milk and grew every day more and more beautiful.
Creamy skin musk and blushing pink musk with soft sandalwood, white amber, dutiful myrrh, and star jasmine.
Envelop yourself in the soft, sensual embrace of gentle sandalwood warmed by cocoa vanilla and a veil of deep myrrh.
Zarita, The Doll GirlAdd to cart
A tiny woman stands in the center of the stage, the perfect woman in miniature, her copper hair bouncing in elegant curls. She is surrounded on all sides by a necropolis of maimed, mutilated stuffed animals, decapitated fashion dolls, and eviscerated wooden figures. It is a strangely ghastly tableau: the disemboweled toys ooze fiberfill, batting, and sawdust from their gaping wounds. In one dainty hand she clutches a shard of glass, and in the other she nimbly twirls a razor blade. Her face is twisted in a grimace of mad ferocity, and she hisses as she brandishes her makeshift weapons at you. “Play with me?” she growls.
Soft, yet sociopathic: white carnation, iris, orange blossom, poisonous pale white berries, and sugared cream.