Ylang Ylang

  • A Countenance Forboding Evil

    Thy gloomy features, like a midnight dial,
    Scowl the dark index of a fearful hour.

    Patchouli, ylang ylang, blood orange, and vetiver.

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  • Eve

    The spirit of temptation, the essence of lost innocence.

    Apple blossom, rose, ylang ylang and golden honey.

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  • Hetairae

    The sublimely beautiful, fiercely independent, impeccably cultured, fascinatingly worldly and witty courtesans of ancient Greece. A seductive and dazzling blend of golden honey, fiery patchouli, sweet fig and clove, and a blushing touch of ylang ylang.

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  • La Petite Mort

    Seduction, sensuality, the Act, and the aftermath all in one. The scent of warm, damp skin flushed with the glow of passion, touched by the luxuriant potency of ylang ylang and myrrh.

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  • Lorelei

    A tragic heroine from German lore. In despair over a faithless lover, she threw herself into the Rhine. In death, she has become a siren that haunts that river to this day, luring sailors to their doom. Neroli, sandalwood, ylang ylang.

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  • Lust

    Uncontrollable passion and insatiable sexual desire: red musk, patchouli, ylang ylang and myrrh.

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  • Malice

    A profound, complex scent that encapsulates the joy one finds in another’s pain.

    Ylang ylang, clove, Indonesian red patchouli, and dark myrrh.

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  • Marguerite

    Rose, rose geranium, myrrh, ylang ylang, French gardenia, tuberose, red sandalwood, and palmarosa.

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  • Phantom

    All look and likeness caught from earth,
    All accident of kin and birth,
    Had pass’d away. There was no trace
    Of aught on that illuminated face,
    Upraised beneath the rifted stone
    But of one spirit all her own;–
    She, she herself, and only she,
    Shone through her body visibly.

    Myrrh, dark musk, attar of rose and ylang ylang.

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  • Skuld

    Being

    Ylang ylang, honey, Egyptian and Arabian musks and labdanum.

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  • Tavern of Hell

    Sometimes I would venture from my sepulchre to the jazz of night Paris, where having gathered the colours, I would think them over in front of the fire. I could be seen walking through a funeral corridor of my house and descending down a black spiral of steep stairs; rushing underground to Montmartre, all impatience to see the fiery rubies of the Moulin Rouge cross. I wondered thereabouts, then bought a ticket to watch frenzied delirium of feathers, vulgar painted lips and eyelashes of black and blue.

    Naked feet, and thighs, and arms, and breasts were being flung on me from bloody-red foam of translucent clothes. The tuxedoed goatees and crooked noses in white vests and toppers would line the hall, with their hands posed on canes. Then I found myself in a pub, where the liqueurs were served on a coffin (not a table) by the nickering devil: “Drink it, you wretched!” Having drunk, I returned under the black sky split by the flaming vanes, which the radiant needles of my eyelashes cross-hatched. In front of my nose a stream of bowler hats and black veils was still pulsing, foamy with bluish green and warm orange of feathers worn by the night beauties: to me they were all one, as I had to narrow my eyes for insupportable radiance of electric lamps, whose hectic fires would be dancing beneath my nervous eyelids for many a night to come.

    White gardenia, ambergris bouquet, lavender fougere, orange blossom, melissa, tobacco flower, coriander, ebony wood, ylang ylang, absinthe and aged whiskey.

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  • The Velvets

    Five almost identically dressed, pale young women walked past him. They wore long dresses made of velvet, each dress as dark as night, one each of dark green, dark chocolate, royal blue, dark blood, and pure black. Each woman had black hair and wore silver jewelry; each was perfectly coifed, perfectly made up. They moved silently: Richard was only aware of a swish of heavy velvet as they went past, a swish that sounded almost like a sigh.

    Smooth inky musk, cathedral incense, ylang ylang, violet leaf, rose-infused amber, red sandalwood, and iris.

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  • The Witch Queen

    On a rocky mountain pass, on the southernmost slopes of Mount Belly, the witch-queen reined in her goat-drawn chariot and stopped and sniffed the chilly air.

    The myriad stars hung cold in the sky above her.

    Her red, red lips curved up into a smile of such beauty, such brilliance, such pure and perfect happiness that it would have frozen your blood in your veins to have seen it. “There,” she said. “She is coming to me.”

    And the wind of the mountain pass howled about her triumphantly, as if in answer.

    Wild plum, red musk, tuberose, calla lily, heliotrope, pimento, ylang ylang and beeswax beneath a dark haze of sinister purple-hued incense smoke.

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  • Tisiphone

    The Avenger of Murder

    Oleander with black patchouli, ylang ylang, and neroli.

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  • Veil

    A quiet scent, soft, calm and enigmatic. A perfume of mystery, of whispers, and of secrets behind secrets. White sandalwood, lilac, gardenia, violet, orris, lavender and ylang ylang.

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