Ina Garten Davita

Too long degraded, scorned, opprest: a bold, strident red chypre with sweet wild patchouli, bourbon vanilla,

Tunisian neroli, tuberose, warm red currant, strawberry, and red labdanum.

Yes, injured Woman! rise, assert thy right!
Woman! too long degraded, scorned, opprest;
O born to rule in partial Law’s despite,
Resume thy native empire o’er the breast!

Go forth arrayed in panoply divine;
That angel pureness which admits no stain;
Go, bid proud Man his boasted rule resign,
And kiss the golden sceptre of thy reign.

Go, gird thyself with grace; collect thy store
Of bright artillery glancing from afar;
Soft melting tones thy thundering cannon’s roar,
Blushes and fears thy magazine of war.

Thy rights are empire: urge no meaner claim, –
Felt, not defined, and if debated, lost;
Like sacred mysteries, which withheld from fame,
Shunning discussion, are revered the most.

Try all that wit and art suggest to bend
Of thy imperial foe the stubborn knee;
Make treacherous Man thy subject, not thy friend;
Thou mayst command, but never canst be free.

Awe the licentious, and restrain the rude;
Soften the sullen, clear the cloudy brow:
Be, more than princes’ gifts, thy favours sued; –
She hazards all, who will the least allow.

But hope not, courted idol of mankind,
On this proud eminence secure to stay;
Subduing and subdued, thou soon shalt find
Thy coldness soften, and thy pride give way.

Then, then, abandon each ambitious thought,
Conquest or rule thy heart shall feebly move,
In Nature’s school, by her soft maxims taught,
That separate rights are lost in mutual love.
– Anna Lætitia Barbauld

A solid, steadfast blend of patchouli, smoked vanilla husk, ambergris accord, and tawny oudh.

I Undying Life: lavender, rockrose, and pale woods.

No coward soul is mine
No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere
I see Heaven’s glories shine
And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear

O God within my breast
Almighty ever-present Deity
Life, that in me hast rest,
As I Undying Life, have power in Thee

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men’s hearts, unutterably vain,
Worthless as withered weeds
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by thy infinity,
So surely anchored on
The steadfast rock of Immortality.

With wide-embracing love
Thy spirit animates eternal years
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears

Though earth and moon were gone
And suns and universes ceased to be
And Thou wert left alone
Every Existence would exist in thee

There is not room for Death
Nor atom that his might could render void
Since thou art Being and Breath
And what thou art may never be destroyed.
– Emily Brontë

Silk threads unraveling: sheer vanilla and violet leaf with jasmine sambac, white musk, and tea leaf.

I sit and sew – a useless task it seems,
My hands grown tired, my head weighed down with dreams –
The panoply of war, the martial tred of men,
Grim-faced, stern-eyed, gazing beyond the ken
Of lesser souls, whose eyes have not seen Death,
Nor learned to hold their lives but as a breath –
But – I must sit and sew.

I sit and sew – my heart aches with desire –
That pageant terrible, that fiercely pouring fire
On wasted fields, and writhing grotesque things
Once men. My soul in pity flings
Appealing cries, yearning only to go
There in that holocaust of hell, those fields of woe –
But – I must sit and sew.

The little useless seam, the idle patch;
Why dream I here beneath my homely thatch,
When there they lie in sodden mud and rain,
Pitifully calling me, the quick ones and the slain?
You need me, Christ! It is no roseate dream
That beckons me – this pretty futile seam,
It stifles me – God, must I sit and sew?
– Alice Moore Dunbar-Nelson

A panoply of layered hues: champagne with a twist of white ginger, peach, raspberry pulp,

and orange flower absolute.

White musk, silvered white tea leaf, Italian bergamot, and bourbon vanilla.

Sweet oudh, fossilized amber, tonka bean, coffee, and tobacco absolute.

Okay, fine, you DID say those things… but they were taken completely out of context! Here’s a blend to help you ease into your new status as a femme fatale: Black leather, pomegranate, saffron, pink pepper, and tobacco.

Will they or won’t they? Or did they already?? How thrilling to live in a world where femme-phobic stereotypes are being challenged and it’s no longer taboo for queens to hook up with each other.

The scent of two drag queens in love: Red musk and cotton candy.

Jupiter's Bounty

This is a perfume of sagacity and good counsel, and the prudence and judiciousness that leads to good judgement. It is a scent of stability, prosperity, and sovereignty – but more specifically, the creation, fortification, and nurturing of a kingdom that you build for yourself through self-respect and sound choices, the ability to govern your impulses wisely, and utilizing generosity, compassion and kindness as a means of protecting and expanding your dominion.

This is a perfume dedicated to Jove.

I will sing of Zeus, chiefest among the gods and greatest, all-seeing, the lord of all, the fulfiller who whispers words of wisdom to Themis as she sits leaning towards him.

Be gracious, all-seeing Son of Cronos, most excellent and great!

This is not over. Rage-red musk, razor-sharp tobacco leaf, black oak leaf,

dried blackcurrant, and a smoky burst of patchouli.

A sorrowful moon casts shadows through the boughs of an ancient oak.

Scattered fir needles sinking into pools of blood, human and inhuman.

Boot-crushed grass, salt air tinged with incense, and fire-ravaged cedar wood.

Ancient tomes and disturbing artifacts clutter the shelves of a posh club, where eons of incense smoke have seeped into suede and leather seats. A whiff of pipe tobacco and cologne, bourbon and gunpowder.

The crown of the Lord of the Shadowlands, Nimue the Blood Queen:

a blood-tinged coronet of gold-gilded bramble.

Revenge is the only sustenance I require. Unearthly dark beauty, utterly haunting:

a haze of purple poisons, precious oud, black plum, dried black cherries, smoky vegetal musk, and incense.

And those who call the shadows home will rise again. 

A haze of blood musk, myrrh, blackened lavender buds, labdanum, and opoponax.

I was there on the night you came into our world. 

A classic 1920’s-style aldehyde with champaca blossom, incense, and sweet red patchouli.

Bourbon tobacco, gunpowder, and brimstone.

A bundle of witches’ herbs and honeyed lavender.

Tenemos una celebridad aqui esta noche. Muchacho del Infierno! 

A flap of leathery wings, a splash of mezcal, and crushed clove husk.

Beware the Jabberwock, my child. Sheer skin musk, white amber, white tea, pink clover, and a glob of ectoplasm.

A few updates to our very important Reviews subforum. 

The first review is going to be the scent description to cut down on reports. So if you are the first to review, please carry on, but don't report the first thread as we carry out our changes. 

Some moderator changes, as our dear LiberAmoris is taking a step back for the time being.

Thanks so much!

Please contact me, or Cupide430 if you have any questions.

The name of this moon refers to the color of wild ground phlox, a primary component of this Lunacy Blend, which is one of the most widespread floral signposts of springtime in North America. This Lunar blend is soft with phlox, pink freesia, stargazer lily, tulip, daffodil, pink columbine, delphinium, pink carnation, peony, and muscari, dusted with pink sugar and honey, bourbon vanilla and a touch of the first strawberries of the season.

I allowed myself ONE bottle from December Lunacy and this was it. It's so gorgeous. It's spring in a bottle, and I really need that because I crave spring year round, but never more so than this time of year.

This vanilla may be the best I've ever smelled, considering the vanilla prices, I can't even begin to imagine how costly this ingredient was to source. It's sweet but not bakery sweet. It's how the interior of a fresh, thick vanilla bean when you slice it open and scrape out that rich, fragrant paste. The kind of vanilla that Ina Garten would shit herself over.

And the grasses, sweet, dewy, bright green grass, the kind you want to roll in if you didn't care about bugs or dog poop.

Love it, I wish the wear time was longer, but it's a delight to reapply.