$4.50 – $19.50
A scent as heavy as thunder from the Vatican, with notes that inspire every sin and excess. Black opium, with vetivert and honeysuckle.
Sin and Salvation
PERFUME OIL BLENDS
Presented in an amber apothecary vial.
– November 16, 2017
When I fist apply this one it smells wonderful. The honeysuckles plays delightfully against the sweet but musky backdrop. Unfortunately, on me the honeysuckle only sticks around for about fifteen minutes before the opium eats it and I’m left with just the backdrop. After that it’s pleasant enough, but a little one note and uninteresting.
– November 5, 2017
Anathema is a big, heady floral with a lot of staying power, the kind of thing you might wear to seduce an international super spy. If you love that sort of scent, this is a 5 or 6 star blend. I don’t perceive the vetiver here at all; in fact I was hoping for more smokiness. This is quite gorgeous, just not something I would wear very often, as my life is simply too mundane for this one!
– September 14, 2017
Vatican is right! This scent reminds me a whole lot of Event Horizon, except a bit sweeter and lighter. Heavy incense made lighter with sweet honeysuckle. That being said, I personally prefer Event Horizon.
– March 3, 2017
My go-to “lady” perfume. I’m not a big fan of floral scents, but I really enjoy this one.
– May 7, 2016
Lots of heady honeysuckle in the imp and wet. A woody warmth starts to peak out which I thought be cedar at first. Cedar hates me, so I prepared for the worst, but to my pleasant surprise, the woody smell settled back into an soft brown warmth and made itself known as vetiver. This vetiver is the sweet, lighter kind as opposed to the heavy and charred kind. It plays well with opium to darken and enrich the syrupy sweet honeysuckle. This is more warm resins on me, with a touch of honeysuckle sweetness, than a floral perfume. Well balanced, feminine, and a touch mysterious.
– December 19, 2014
Holy Moly! This is a heady, decadent, floral, dripping with juicy nectar. If you are afraid of vetiver, fear not. This has none of the dirty or smoky overtones of vetiver heavy blends; its only purpose here to nail the fragrance to your skin. It has an almost vicious sillage and powerful tenacity.
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The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before;
The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need
Of aid from them — She was the Universe.
Bottled gloom; the essence of oblivion. Blackest opium and narcissus deepened by myrrh.
There was a woman sitting on the grass, under a tree, with a paper tablecloth spread in front of her, and a variety of Tupperware dishes on the cloth.
She wasânot fat, no, far from fat: what she was, a word that Shadow had never had cause to use until now, was curvaceous. Her hair was so fair that it was white, the kind of platinum-blonde tresses that should have belonged to a long-dead movie starlet, her lips were painted crimson, and she looked to be somewhere between twenty-five and fifty.
As they reached her she was selecting from a plate of deviled eggs. She looked up as Wednesday approached her, put down the egg she had chosen, and wiped her hand. âHello, you old fraud,â she said, but she smiled as she said it, and Wednesday bowed low, took her hand, and raised it to his lips.
He said, âYou look divine.â
âHow the hell else should I look?â she demanded, sweetly. âAnyway, youâre a liar. New Orleans was such a mistakeâI put on, what, thirty pounds there? I swear. I knew I had to leave when I started to waddle. The tops of my thighs rub together when I walk now, can you believe that?â This last was addressed to Shadow. He had no idea what to say in reply, and felt a hot flush suffuse his face. The woman laughed delightedly. âHeâs blushing! Wednesday, my sweet, you brought me a blusher. How perfectly wonderful of you. Whatâs he called?â
âThis is Shadow,â said Wednesday. He seemed to be enjoying Shadowâs discomfort. âShadow, say hello to Easter.â
Jasmine and honeysuckle, sweet milk and female skin.
He wore a huge dandyish black coat that was not quite a frock coat nor exactly a trench coat, and high black boots, and, beneath his coat, raggedy clothes. His eyes burned white in an extremely dark face. And he grinned whie teeth, momentarily, as if at a private joke of his own, and bowed to Richard, and said, âDe Carabas, at your service, and you areâ¦?â
A splash of bay rum, leather, dusty black wool, massoia bark, and opium residue.
Honeysuckle, white tuberose, gardenia petals, and wet green leaves.