doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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It is a big, airy room, the whole floor nearly, with windows that look all ways, and air and sunshine galore. It was nursery first and then playground and gymnasium, I should judge; for the windows are barred for little children, and there are rings and things in the walls. Radiant emptiness: a breezy citrus-touched aldehyde with a hint of sunny amber and dusty heliotrope, and the metallic tang of sun-warmed iron bars.
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But there is something else about that paper—the smell! I noticed it the moment we came into the room, but with so much air and sun it was not bad. Now we have had a week of fog and rain, and whether the windows are open or not, the smell is here. It creeps all over the house. I find it hovering in the dining-room, skulking in the parlor, hiding in the hall, lying in wait for me on the stairs. It gets into my hair. Even when I go to ride, if I turn my head suddenly and surprise it—there is that smell! Such a peculiar odor, too! I have spent hours in trying to analyze it, to find what it smelled like. It is not bad—at first, and very gentle, but quite the subtlest, most enduring odor I ever met. In this damp weather it is awful. I wake up in the night and find it hanging over me. It used to disturb me at first. I thought seriously of burning the house—to reach the smell. But now I am used to it. The only thing I can think of that it is like is the color of the paper! A yellow smell. Scorched wood and oversteeped chamomile petals pressed wetly into beeswax, brittle fossilized amber, a whisper of honeyed hay and saffron, and the sweet decay of overripe butter figs.
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Goth music and goth culture are for everyone. The more, the scarier! But try telling that to the troll who’s appointed themselves as guardian of an entire subculture, which they alone seemingly understand every nuance of. So purely for fun, we asked Drew Rausch to visualize this archetype for us as an undead horror host called the GOTHIC GATEKEEPER, who smells like every record store dickhead demanding that you name three songs from the band whose shirt you’re wearing… but the goth version. Behold: pleather, incense, and a ton of vinyl.
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A crimson corset unlaced in candlelight. Rain against stained glass. The slow heartbeat of desire beneath black velvet. Dark rose steeped in spiced wine and blood orange, tangled with clove and plum, while a pulse of smoky labdanum and black vanilla drapes the air in velvet shadows. A perfume of ruin and rapture crafted for lovers who haunt each other through centuries.
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Lace curtains tremble as candle wax tears drip onto the edges of faded love letters. Love that lingers beyond the grave: violet shadows blooming in chilled air, the hush of moonlight on marble skin, a tremulous veil of moonflower petals, and sandalwood incense smoke drifting through cracked glass.
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Addressing you directly, dear reader, with this important message: NYAHHHH!! Cheeky blackcurrant against a backdrop of scorched goat’s milk, festooned with ribbons of scarlet musk, dried plum, and sweet rose-infused amber.
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A rich bourbon cream skin musk, formulated to announce and enhance whatever version of oneself is currently coming forth.
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A rich bourbon cream skin musk, formulated to announce and enhance whatever version of oneself is currently coming forth.
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A rich bourbon cream skin musk, formulated to announce and enhance whatever version of oneself is currently coming forth.
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Violet and Hay Absolute.
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Cocoa butter, coconut, tiare, and a squirt of pumpkin juice. (This is a perfume oil inspired by the scent of old school 80’s tanning lotions. Do not use this as a sunblock, as it’s… a perfume oil. Please be cautious with sun exposure, use sunblock every day, etc.)
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Smoked tonka bean, vetiver root, white patchouli, oolong tea, hazy, muted brown amber, and vanilla husk. Odilon Redon
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Dead Leaves, Molten Lava Cake, and Raw Cacao.
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Dead Leaves and Apple Pie.
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Piles of ube pumpkin cheesecake batter blorped into a brown sugar graham cracker crust.
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There is a recurrent spot where the pattern lolls like a broken neck and two bulbous eyes stare at you upside-down. I get positively angry with the impertinence of it and the everlastingness. Up and down and sideways they crawl, and those absurd, unblinking eyes are everywhere. There is one place where two breadths didn’t match, and the eyes go all up and down the line, one a little higher than the other. Indolic jasmine glaring through a haze of tobacco yellow and stained lace.
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You’re a grownup, no one can stop you from slurping up clouds of rooty foam from around a giant glump of pumpkin ice cream squished onto the rim of a frosted goblet.
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Saying “bone apple teeth” instead of “bon appétit” seems to take on a special meaning in the context of Halloween treats. Here’s a scent commemorating the allure of everything our dentist would have us avoid: a luscious red apple rendered nigh impenetrable by armored plates of toffee and caramel, sprinkled with bone-dry cinnamon-glazed almonds and hard bits of popcorn.
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A scent inspired by the debris left over from frantic last-minute costuming sessions. Torn scraps of velvety black voodoo lily mingled with dried rose petals and a flash of red peppercorn.
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An intangible vapor, an obfuscating mist: grey iris, ambergris, mallow blossom, white tea blossoms, and scorched milk. Alfred Stieglitz
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And the weaver said, Speak to us of Clothes. And he answered: Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful. And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy you may find in them a harness and a chain. Would that you could meet the sun and the wind with more of your skin and less of your raiment, For the breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind. Some of you say, “It is the north wind who has woven the clothes we wear.” And I say, Ay, it was the north wind, But shame was his loom, and the softening of the sinews was his thread. And when his work was done he laughed in the forest. Forget not that modesty is for a shield against the eye of the unclean. And when the unclean shall be no more, what were modesty but a fetter and a fouling of the mind? And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair. Sunlight on skin: sweet amber, honey dust, golden sandalwood, and soft musk.
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Lightning Moon: Golden Amber and Plum Blossom
doomsday_disco posted a topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
Golden Amber and Plum Blossom. -
Snake Oil, opium tar, indigo poppy petals, plum cognac, and a dribble of laudanum.
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In the vein (GET IT) of Boo, Suck It, and Spooky, this is a gushing font of sweet bloody black cherry cream and crushed dried blackberries.
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Black Butterfly Moon: Vanilla-Infused Frankincense and Raspberry
doomsday_disco replied to doomsday_disco's topic in Duets & Menage A Trois
Ohohoho! /Ojou-sama laugh I was here for the raspberry, and fortunately, the raspberry is the star of this duet on me. It starts off as a tart, bright raspberry, but it ends up developing a bit of creaminess to it after a few hours of wear, which could be due to the vanilla, but I'm not 100% on that since that has happened with other raspberry scents on me, even the ones from Astrid (it's not a bad thing, though -- it's more like realistic tart raspberry morphs into a raspberry Mamba, which is a hard, taffy-like fruity candy). There's only the barest hint of frankincense in the background if I go sniffing for it, but I probably wouldn't have guessed this contained any if I didn't know it were there. I layered a drop of this with Black Butterfly Moon, and I enjoyed the combination of the two scents more than the moon on its own. I'm not sure if the lunacy scent brought out more of the vanilla-infused frankincense from this, or if this brought out more of the vanilla resin in the lunacy, or what, but I definitely get some vanilla and resin with the tart raspberry that floats over the blackberry and purple flowers from the lunacy scent, and the vanilla and resin note make me think of the Bourbon Vanilla bath oil from several years ago (deceptively sweet: bourbon vanilla oleoresin and benzoin resinoid). I am after more raspberry scents to pair with Framboise Hair Gloss, so I'll be needing a bottle of this before it goes away.