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Weight | 1 oz |
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$32.00
Goldfish-orange overripe mangoes, blackcurrant, strawberry pulp, red benzoin, honey, streaks of white ginger, a splatter of star anise, an erratic jolt of eucalyptus and mint, and a dribble of absinthe.
Words by Neil Gaiman, art by David Mack.
Out of stock
Weight | 1 oz |
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And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Come whiffing through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
An earthy yet buoyant scent: pine, eucalyptus and orange.
Good Gods, what a night that was,
The bed was so soft, and how we clung,
Burning together, lying this way and that,
Our uncontrollable passions
Flowing through our mouths.
If I could only die that way,
I’d say goodbye to the business of living.
Olive blossom, honey, smoky vanilla, cinnamon, jasmine, sandalwood, and champaca flower.
– Absinthe
An intoxicating blend containing wormwood essence, light mints, cardamom, anise, hyssop, and the barest hint of lemon.
– Bon Vivant
An effervescent blend of crystalline champagne notes and sweet strawberry.
– Elegba
Contains coconut, tobacco and sweet, sugared rum.
– Grog
Arrr! Avast ye, matey! This be the scent of pirate rum!
– Juke Joint
Kentucky Bourbon, sugar and a sprig of mint.
– Twenty-One
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.
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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