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  They Shut Me Up in Prose Perfume Oil

  They shut me up in Prose –
  As when a little Girl
  They put me in the Closet –
  Because they liked me “still” –

  Still! Could themself have peeped –
  And seen my Brain – go round –
  They might as wise have lodged a Bird
  For Treason – in the Pound –

  Himself has but to will
  And easy as a Star
  Look down upon Captivity –
  And laugh – No more have I –
  – Emily Dickinson

  Loosed from the satin-pale corset, emerging from a gilded cage, that prison of silence: sweet bourbon vanilla, pale sandalwood, mallow flower, osmanthus, and shards of frankincense.

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  Brusque Violet Perfume Oil

  `I never saw anybody that looked stupider,’ a Violet said, so suddenly, that Alice quite jumped; for it hadn’t spoken before.

  `Hold your tongue!’ cried the Tiger-lily. `As if you ever saw anybody! You keep your head under the leaves, and snore away there, till you know no more what’s going on in the world, that if you were a bud!’ 

  `Are there any more people in the garden besides me?’ Alice said, not choosing to notice the Rose’s last remark.

  `There’s one other flower in the garden that can move about like you,’ said the Rose. `I wonder how you do it — ‘ (`You’re always wondering,’ said the Tiger-lily), `but she’s more bushy than you are.’

  `Is she like me?’ Alice asked eagerly, for the thought crossed her mind, `There’s another little girl in the garden, somewhere!’

  `Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,’ the Rose said, `but she’s redder — and her petals are shorter, I think.’

  `Her petals are done up close, almost like a dahlia,’ the Tiger-lily interrupted: `not tumbled about anyhow, like yours.’

  `But that’s not your fault,’ the Rose added kindly: `you’re beginning to fade, you know — and then one can’t help one’s petals getting a little untidy.’

  Violet petal, violet leaf, osmanthus, orris, mint, and opoponax.

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  The Woman at the Edge of the Woods Perfume Oil

  “This is the primal threat in our earliest stories: a woman who lives on the outskirts of civilization, rejected by her community; a woman who is old, ugly, asexual; a woman who is, alternately, too beautiful, too sexual, too self-possessed; a woman who knows things others don’t know, and can do things others can’t do. When the loop of patriarchy closes, it can feel inescapable. Yet the way to freedom has been here, in our monster stories, all along. From the beginning, we’ve known that a woman who leaves society as we know it, who heads out to the dark and threatening spaces beyond the world we’ve built, will find not her death but her power.”

  A scent of power and wisdom, resilience and rage: a patchouli bramble embraced by creeping ivy and rose thorns, protecting a glade populated with mandrake root, yarrow and nettle, Roman chamomile, purple sage, elderberries, sweet myrrh, smoky vanilla husk, and willow branches.

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• 

  The Wish Perfume Oil

  The Wish, Theodor Von Holst, 1840
  “I’ve always wanted to know what wishes are longed for in the dark-eyed gaze of this intense young woman. Myself, I simply wish to rifle through the box of baubles and jewels in the bottom right of the canvas. Maybe help myself to that pearl-tipped hat-pin.”

  An incense of candied smoked fruits, Oman frankincense, red oud, labdanum absolute, sheer vanilla, patchouli, red musk seed, osmanthus, and datura accord.

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