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  Eat Me Hair Gloss

  Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words ‘EAT ME’ were beautifully marked in currants.
  
  ‘Well, I’ll eat it,’ said Alice, ‘and if it makes me grow larger, I can reach the key; and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I’ll get into the garden, and I don’t care which happens!’
  
  She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself, ‘Which way? Which way?’, holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this generally happens when one eats cake, but Alice had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seemed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.
  
  Three white cakes, vanilla, and red and black currants.
  
  BPAL’s Eat Me is not for eating. Please use common sense, and remember: hair glosses are for external use only.

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  Elegba Perfume Oil

  The Spirit of the Divine Messenger, the Lord of the Crossroads, He Who Owns All Doors and Roads in this World. He is the intermediary between the Orishas and mankind, and stands at the intersection of humanity and the Divine. He opens all paths of communication, both mundane and Heavenly.

  His ofrenda contains coconut, tobacco and sweet, sugared rum.

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

  Grapefruit, red currant, dark musk, Roman chamomile, delphinium, and lavender.

  Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
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  Frederic 2024 Perfume Oil

  For some ridiculous reason, to which, however, I’ve no desire to be disloyal,
  Some person in authority, I don’t know who, very likely the Astronomer Royal,
  Has decided that, although for such a beastly month as February, twenty-eight days as a rule are plenty,
  One year in every four his days shall be reckoned as nine and twenty.
  Through some singular coincidence – I shouldn’t be surprised if it were owing to the agency of an ill-natured fairy –
  You are the victim of this clumsy arrangement, having been born in leap-year, on the twenty-ninth of February;
  And so, by a simple arithmetical process, you’ll easily discover,
  That though you’ve lived twenty-one years, yet, if we go by birthdays, you’re only five and a little bit over!

  Alas, poor Frederic the Leapling! — bound to the merry Pirates of Penzance until his twenty-first birthday.

  As his birthday comes around only every four years, so does his scent!

  Victorian whimsy and piratical romance: a reluctant seaman’s chypre sloshed with a mix of bay rum, patchouli, amber musk, dark woods, tea rose, and red currant.

   

   

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