Additional information
Weight | 1 oz |
---|
$32.00
A twist on a traditional early 20th century sweet chypre with red labdanum, oakmoss, 3-year aged patchouli, Italian bergamot, and peach.
Peach Chypre debuted at DragonCon this year as a fundraiser response to Governor Kemp’s monstrous and misleadingly-named “Fetal Heartbeat” bill: proceeds from the sale of this scent benefit Planned Parenthood.
Weight | 1 oz |
---|
You must be logged in to post a review.
To stab my youth with desperate knives, to wear
This paltry age’s gaudy livery,
To let each base hand filch my treasury,
To mesh my soul within a woman’s hair,
And be mere Fortune’s lackeyed groom, — I swear
I love it not! these things are less to me
Than the thin foam that frets upon the sea,
Less than the thistle-down of summer air
Which hath no seed: better to stand aloof
Far from these slanderous fools who mock my life
Knowing me not, better the lowliest roof
Fit for the meanest hind to sojourn in,
Than to go back to that hoarse cave of strife
Where my white soul first kissed the mouth of sin.
A sophisticated traditional gentleman’s cologne, with just the slightest taint of patchouli’s passion, tonka bean’s decadence, the philanthropy of bergamot, moss’ cynicism, the sharp wit of lavender, and the hopeless romantic longing of jasmine and thyme.
No man knows till he has suffered from the night how sweet and dear to his heart and eye the morning can be.
Bourbon vetiver with opoponax, Italian bergamot, and hay absolute.
Illustrated by Abigail Larson.
Purchase the tee here!
Then one afternoon the butterfly wobbled out of a breeze and lit on the tip of her horn. He was velvet all over, dark and dusty, with golden spots on his wings, and he was as thin as a flower petal. Dancing along her horn, he saluted her with his curling feelers. “I am a roving gambler. How do you do?”
Fuzzy brown tonka bean, golden amber, bergamot, nutmeg, and petitgrain.
‘Ratty!’ said the girl in something between a squeak and a horrified swallow. She had a large, water-stained red button pinned to her ragged clothes, the kind that comes attached to birthday cards. It said, in yellow letters, I AM 11.
A scent that slips through the cracks: peppermint, lavender, bergamot, and mandrake.
Reviews
There are no reviews yet.