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  Twenty-One Perfume Oil

  “I like to drink martinis
  Two at the very most.
  Three, I’m under the table,
  Four, I’m under my host.”
  — Dorothy Parker

  A tribute to New York’s 21 Club on West 52nd, formerly the speakeasy Jack & Charlie’s Puncheon Club. This is the scent of the perfect martini:

  “The Perfect Martini, as an idea, has infinite possibilities. For me, the Dry Martini remains an American symbol of elusive perfection, a kind of pagan Holy Grail. The dedicated Martini drinker views this deceptively simple cocktail as a true if fleeting, salvation, … As in religion, one may not have actually witnessed the Conception of the Perfect Martini, but one accepts on faith that it exists, and that it takes away the sins of the earth.”
  — The Martini, Barnaby Conrad III

  This scent is dedicated to all the mods on the BPAL forum as thanks for their hard work, friendship, and for all they do to make the forum a pleasant, safe, and friendly place.

  Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
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  All Hallows Oud Perfume Oil

  Black oud spookied up with pumpkin puree, amaretto, scorched caramel, almond paste, cacao nibs, and honey.

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  Samhain Perfume Oil

  Truly the scent of autumn itself — damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.

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  Tavern of Hell Perfume Oil

  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.

  Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page