doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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(The Erl-King speaks.) “O come and go with me, thou loveliest child; By many a gay sport shall thy time be beguiled; My mother keeps for thee full many a fair toy, And many a fine flower shall she pluck for my boy.” The promise of dew-bright meadows and sugar-spun toys, gleaming and hollow: apple peel, wild violet, meadowsweet, and candied blood-red fruits.
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Freshly roasted coffee beans releasing their dark, velvety warmth amongst ribbons of molten caramel and a haze of deliciously radiant golden amber.
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A chilly, bright scent: flurries of virgin snow, crisp winter wind and the faintest breath of night-blooming flowers.
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A festive and urgently mammalian response to inclement weather: a pair of blushing musks daubed with French lavender, flecks of fresh snow, and trickles of chilled champagne.
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the butterfly having disappeared my spirit came back to me — Wafū, trans. R. H. Blyth Wings unfolding in darkness, an echo of silence, the softest flutter, and then gone. Shadow-dappled tuberose and black orchid, buffeted by crumpled violet leaves and ink-dipped tea roses. A glint of obsidian musk slinks beneath, woven with scorched vanilla resin, dusty myrrh, and the faintest touch of crushed blackberry skin.
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A tribute to Epidendrum nutans, the nocturnal seductress of the forest canopy. Sweet, indolic jasmine curls around a breath of citrus and moonlit air, a perfume that blooms when the world sleeps.
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Hungry Ghost Moon: Oven-Warm Pizza Crust and Oregano
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
Oven-Warm Pizza Crust and Oregano. -
Bringing you the colors of spring! Tawny golden musk and cherry-blossom lipstick smeared over blood-slicked fangs.
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“What a bewitching girl…” A facade of innocence shattered by a demonic chortle of black honey bubbling up from an abyss of burgundy pitch.
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Dust-soft vellum, cracked leather, and yellowed pages exhaling their ghost of vanillin, a triple shot of espresso, and a deft swirl of warm, velvety microfoam.
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I don’t know if all kids love Krampus, but mine sure does. She first met him a decade ago at Dark Delicacies, where he was portrayed by our dear friend, Bill Rude. She loves Krampus so much that we took her to the Gnigl Krampuslauf in Salzburg in 2017. Her intention to join the Los Angeles Krampuslauf as a wee Krampus was curtailed by the pandemic, but hope springs eternal. Kids love horror. They’re attracted to the strange, the uncanny, the mysterious. This is why they love characters like Krampus, despite the threat of being scooped up into a bag and tossed into a river. Kids embrace horror. They always have. Children understand that the world is stitched together with shadows, and that sometimes the shadows have teeth. They’re drawn to the strange, the uncanny, the impossible; they see the edges where reality blurs. Horror is not a trespass for them, but a playground: a place where the monstrous becomes knowable, where fear becomes understanding. Terror tales are a ritualized fear, safely cocooned in myth. This is why they love figures like Krampus, even with his clanking chains and sacks full of disobedient little souls. To a child, Krampus is not simply a morality lesson or a grim parental warning – he’s a symbol of freedom, of things that are wild, dark, and uncontrolled. Children instinctively know that monsters serve a purpose, that they give shape to anxieties too formless to name. They let kids practice both bravery and defiance, and they teach kids that though the world can be frightening and unpredictable, they can traverse its tangled forests and survive the darkness. I believe that children also know in the deepest part of their mythic, dreaming souls that monsters protect, challenge, and guide. Sometimes, the monster under the bed is the only one who truly understands you. Kids love Krampus, not in spite of his menace, but because of it. His is the shadow that makes the light shine brighter, and the rattle of his chains reminds them that stories, both light and dark, belong to them. A playdate with monsters: crimson musk stirred into molten sugar, ruby pomegranate syrup, tart cherries, a dusting of clove-spun candyfloss, and a drizzle of warm vanilla resin.
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You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly. There are those among you who seek the talkative through fear of being alone. The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape. And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand. And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words. In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence. When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue. Let the voice within your voice speak to the ear of his ear; For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered When the colour is forgotten and the vessel is no more. Rhythmic silence: black tea and myrrh, frankincense and parchment.
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Okay, I know I said in my Hiss and Hearse review a few months back that that was the one of the best Snake Oil-heavy Snake Oil variants in a while -- but here I am reviewing Snakes in the Coffee Beans and feeling the same way. In a lot of the Snake Oil variants from the past few years, it might be heavy on the musk, or the patchouli, but I rarely get all of the components of the Snake Oil with whatever has been added in a particular variant. But in Snakes in the Coffee Beans, I totally get the aged vanilla absolute from the Snake Oil (which, in my opinion, is more sheer than the vanilla of the OG Snake Oil -- but it's still good), along with the spices, musk, and patch, all swirling with the coffee beans. So it gets points not only for being very Snake Oil-y, but also for its super realistic coffee bean note, and the fact that this goes strong for hours on end. I like this way better than the other coffee Snake Oil variant that is PSL: Pumpkin Snake Latte. I'm definitely going to have to upgrade my decant to a bottle.
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The dark, roasted bite of freshly crushed coffee beans folded into the sinuous heat of Snake Oil’s infamous bestseller. Bitter espresso grounds smoldering under a curled-up hiss of sugared patchouli, spiced amber, and velvety vanilla.
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It Was But the Wild Blast As It Sung Thro’ the Trees
doomsday_disco replied to doomsday_disco's topic in Yules
This is a really cozy scent. It was unexpectedly somewhat like a sweet, creamy, lemon-like scent on me during the first few hours -- I think it's the honey mingling with the hay note, which was also somewhat lemon-y in the Vanilla, Nutmeg, and Hay Absolute trio. Then it becomes a sweet and toasty oat scent -- kind of similar to One Has to be Careful -- but with a bit of added spice from the clove and a comforting, non-laundry!!! wool note. Of the two scents I tried from the Erlkönig collection, this was the one I enjoyed most. I will have to give it a full-day slather to see if I need more of it, but for now, I'll definitely be keeping my decant. -
“O, father, my father, and did you not hear The Erl-King whisper so low in my ear?” — “Be still, my heart’s darling — my child, be at ease; It was but the wild blast as it sung thro’ the trees.” A desperate attempt at comfort and assurances of safety. Honeyed oats, toasted clove, hazelnuts, hay, and skin-warmed wool.
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This is a very fruit-forward suf. It mostly smells like jammy blackberry filling to me. I don't get a ton of cream cheese or pastry from this -- both notes are there, but they are buried beneath the blackberry note for a really long time, and then when I do smell those notes, they still can't hold a candle to the strength of the blackberry. I would say there is far less cream cheese in this than you'd find in a danish, and the pastry is most noticeable in the long drydown after the scent has been on the skin for several hours, but I only get it when sniffing my arm up close -- never in the throw. It smells delicious, but I'm not sure that I need more than my decant (although I'll probably retest it before it goes away just to be sure!).
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Tangy cream cheese folded through warm bakery dough, still puffed from the fryer, and thick, dark wild blackberry jam.
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When I tried this just on the front of my wrist one day, the coffee disappeared pretty quickly on me, and I was left with just the rose. When I gave this a full-day slather (slathering it on wrists, down my forearm, in the crooks of my elbows, and on my neck), I could smell the coffee beans with the rose throughout the day, although the rose note definitely was the dominant note after the wet phase and got stronger over time. It has great throw, too, and I could smell both notes in the throw. Originally, I was going to pass on this, but then I decided I had to try it since Bulgarian rose is usually my favorite rose note, and I thought, what if this smells like a bouquet of roses in a coffee shop? It doesn't really give me that vibe, since the rose is stronger than the coffee, but it is still really nice. I'm going to have to slather it on again to decide if the decant will suffice, or if I need a bottle -- I think it would be a great Yule to wear in January when you're getting antsy for the Lupercalia update.
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Voluptuous Bulgarian rose unfurls like crimson silk, met by the dark, resinous warmth of freshly cracked coffee beans.
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This smells like the thick, goopy, toffee-like honey of Harlow's Lace on top of a buttery milk note. It's very rich. I was hoping that this would be more like the milk and honey and Alice, but alas. Great throw and staying power, though!
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“O wilt thou go with me, thou loveliest boy? My daughter shall tend thee with care and with joy; She shall bear thee so lightly thro’ wet and thro’ wild, And press thee, and kiss thee, and sing to my child.” An ethereal lure crafted with milk and honey.
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I originally debated a bottle of this, but went the decant route instead in case it ended up being too sweet. Well, I would have been happy with a bottle. This smells like caramelized banana deliciousness -- perfect for pairing with all of my BPAL banana scents. The only downside to this hair gloss is that it doesn't seem to have a lot of longevity or throw. When I tried this last weekend, the test was all for naught because my hair still somehow smelled like Hunter's Moon: Coffee Bean & Incense Hair Gloss despite me washing my hair before testing out this hair gloss. (That one's a strong one with serious staying power!) So I tried it again yesterday in wet hair, and today in dry hair. I couldn't smell it in my wet hair for more than a few minutes after application. In my dry hair, even though I applied this very liberally, I could only smell a light caramelized sweetness whenever I held my hair up to my nose. I never got a whiff of it throughout the day despite applying a ton of it and having really long hair down to my ass. 😅 Although I wish this had some throw and better longevity, I'm still debating upgrading my decant, not only to pair with my banana scents, but also to potentially spray all over my arms as a scent of the day -- maybe if I got some on the sleeves of my shirt, I could actually smell it throughout the day. I'm going to try it out!
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Caramel-soaked banana slices sizzling in butter and brown sugar, flamed with dark rum, and poured over warm vanilla ice cream.
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On Monday, when the sun is hot I wonder to myself a lot: “Now is it true, or is it not, “That what is which and which is what?” On Tuesday, when it hails and snows, The feeling on me grows and grows That hardly anybody knows If those are these or these are those. On Wednesday, when the sky is blue, And I have nothing else to do, I sometimes wonder if it’s true That who is what and what is who. On Thursday, when it starts to freeze And hoar-frost twinkles on the trees, How very readily one sees That these are whose—but whose are these? On Friday—— Hot, sunny cardamom amber and milky musk, honeyed rice and snowy slush.