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  Rakshasa Perfume Oil

  This haunting, exotic scent is named in honor of the shapeshifting demons from Hindu mythology. Sandalwood with rose and patchouli.

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  Wanda Perfume Oil

  “And yet a restless, always unsatisfied craving for the nudity of paganism,” she interrupted, “but that love, which is the highest joy, which is divine simplicity itself, is not for you moderns, you children of reflection. It works only evil in you. As soon as you wish to be natural, you become common. To you nature seems something hostile; you have made devils out of the smiling gods of Greece, and out of me a demon. You can only exorcise and curse me, or slay yourselves in bacchantic madness before my altar. And if ever one of you has had the courage to kiss my red mouth, he makes a barefoot pilgrimage to Rome in penitential robes and expects flowers to grow from his withered staff, while under my feet roses, violets, and myrtles spring up every hour, but their fragrance does not agree with you. Stay among your northern fogs and Christian incense; let us pagans remain under the debris, beneath the lava; do not disinter us. Pompeii was not built for you, nor our villas, our baths, our temples. You do not require gods. We are chilled in your world.”

  Along with Loviatar, she has become something of a Patron Goddess of all Dominatrixes, Wanda is the breathtakingly beautiful sable-wrapped marble queen of Sacher-Masoch’s fantasies. Her scent is a deep red merlot with a faint hint of leather, sexual musk and body heat over crushed roses, violets and myrtle.

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  The Forest Reverie Perfume Oil

  ‘Tis said that when
  The hands of men
  Tamed this primeval wood,
  And hoary trees with groans of woe,
  Like warriors by an unknown foe,
  Were in their strength subdued,
  The virgin Earth Gave instant birth
  To springs that ne’er did flow
  That in the sun Did rivulets run,
  And all around rare flowers did blow
  The wild rose pale Perfumed the gale
  And the queenly lily adown the dale
  (Whom the sun and the dew
  And the winds did woo),
  With the gourd and the grape luxuriant grew.

  So when in tears
  The love of years
  Is wasted like the snow,
  And the fine fibrils of its life
  By the rude wrong of instant strife
  Are broken at a blow
  Within the heart
  Do springs upstart
  Of which it doth now know,
  And strange, sweet dreams,
  Like silent streams
  That from new fountains overflow,
  With the earlier tide
  Of rivers glide
  Deep in the heart whose hope has died —
  Quenching the fires its ashes hide, —
  Its ashes, whence will spring and grow
  Sweet flowers, ere long,
  The rare and radiant flowers of song!

  A sunlit ancient forest, dotted with wild roses, grape vine, and queenly lilies, clothed in swirls of opium smoke.

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  Croquet Perfume Oil

  ‘Get to your places!’ shouted the Queen in a voice of thunder, and people began running about in all directions, tumbling up against each other; however, they got settled down in a minute or two, and the game began. Alice thought she had never seen such a curious croquet-ground in her life; it was all ridges and furrows; the balls were live hedgehogs, the mallets live flamingoes, and the soldiers had to double themselves up and to stand on their hands and feet, to make the arches.

  The chief difficulty Alice found at first was in managing her flamingo: she succeeded in getting its body tucked away, comfortably enough, under her arm, with its legs hanging down, but generally, just as she had got its neck nicely straightened out, and was going to give the hedgehog a blow with its head, it would twist itself round and look up in her face, with such a puzzled expression that she could not help bursting out laughing: and when she had got its head down, and was going to begin again, it was very provoking to find that the hedgehog had unrolled itself, and was in the act of crawling away: besides all this, there was generally a ridge or furrow in the way wherever she wanted to send the hedgehog to, and, as the doubled-up soldiers were always getting up and walking off to other parts of the ground, Alice soon came to the conclusion that it was a very difficult game indeed.

  We have some trouble managing our flamingos, too. Pink lime, pink grapefruit, white nectarine, wild rose, sage, woody patchouli, bergamot, and ornery hedgehog musk.

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