$30.00
A lusty, bubbling cauldron of thick, black tar spilling forth from a pile of dusty straw and secondhand clothes.
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“I know what I am, but I know I’m not what I am. Beauty lives inside me. But oh, when beauty is trapped, it gets ugly…”
A perfume worthy of a fading Tennessee Williams heroine wandering through a mirror-maze of memories, only slightly singed from too many Electro-Convulsive Therapy sessions: wafts of burning frankincense rising from a hot-seat occupied by duelling champaca orchids, white amber, Sicilian mandarin, and bergamot.
A fragrance inspired by the atmosphere and art direction of the film — its layers of grit and ooze, pop-art colors standing out against a starless void, clumps of debris, fake flowers, vials of mystery fluid, rumpled straitjackets and crisp lab coats.
Green amber, jasmine bud, cotton blossom, eucalyptus, secondhand smoke, dirt, and petitgrain.
A drug-induced vision of grabby, gore-slicked tentacles erupting from a facade of thick buttercream and lemon sponge soaked in cherry-flavored goo.
“Life imitates bad art.”
A rare portrait of innocence and integrity amidst the corruption of Caligari’s asylum. Tart hibiscus, skin musk, shea, and the faintest whiff of nicotine.
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