Bayou Perfume OilSelect Options
A lazy, warm deep green scent with a thick aquatic undertone: Spanish moss, evergreen and cypress with watery blue-green notes and an eddy of hothouse flowers and swamp blooms.
Bruised Violet Compound Perfume OilSelect Options
Promotes vigor in undeath and relieves the discomforts and complaints so common to incorporeal spirits! The learned and eminent scholar Alessandro Cagliastro once remarked “Long experience has taught me to prize Doctor Constantine’s Compounds above all others!”
Crushed violets, red currant, patchouli root and spanish moss.
Deep In Earth Perfume OilSelect Options
Deep in earth my love is lying
And I must weep alone.
Rose geranium, Spanish moss, Irish yew, and graveyard dirt.
Lacquered Vulva Hair GlossAdd to cart
Mahogany polished with burgundy musk, rosewood, jasmine absolute, and Spanish moss.
Seven Word Story: Pride Perfume OilAdd to cart
The subject of our latest #BPAL7wordstory contest was Pride. The winning entry was submitted by Cam Collins:
The alligator selfie was a bad idea.
A swampy blend of Spanish moss, green tea, green oakmoss, celery seed, cucumber, and murky black patchouli.
The Cross of Snow Perfume OilAdd to cart
In the long, sleepless watches of the night,
A gentle face — the face of one long dead —
Looks at me from the wall, where round its head
The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
Here in this room she died; and soul more white
Never through martyrdom of fire was led
To its repose; nor can in books be read
The legend of a life more benedight.
There is a mountain in the distant West
That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines
Displays a cross of snow upon its side.
Such is the cross I wear upon my breast
These eighteen years, through all the changing scenes
And seasons, changeless since the day she died.
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Cypress, Spanish moss, and clove bud with labdanum, Italian bergamot, and white tobacco flower.
The Wild Men of Jezirat Al Tennyn Perfume OilAdd to cart
You are shocked out of the torch song’s melancholy mood by shrieks, hoots, and yowls. You move to your left, and see that instead of a stage, a gigantic iron cage has been hung, hovering a few feet off of the ground. Elaborate, delicate silver sigils are engraved upon huge iron disks that have been mounted to the sides of the cage, and they flicker and spark whenever one of the wild men touches the iron bars that imprison them. The backdrop depicts a blistering volcanic eruption, spiked with thick luminescent bolts of lightning. Several beings are held within the cage, male and female, spanning every age. They flash their razor-fanged smiles at you malevolently as they anxiously crawl, pace, and stalk the length of their prison, stopping occasionally to pose and preen as they gossip with one another in an unrecognizable guttural, grinding language. Their tattooed skin glows an angry crimson, curving horns protrude from their skulls, and their eyes blaze with unholy light.
Fiery, primal, and precociously diabolical: red amber, Spanish moss, Indonesian patchouli, ambergris, sweet ambrette seed, red pepper, two cloves, and vanilla flower.