doomsday_disco

This is GLORIOUS. I'm a big fan of sugary floral scents, so I figured that it would be, but I love it even more than I thought I would since the emphasis here is on the white sugar note. It's not listed as one of the sugars in 13 March 2020, but I think it may be one of the sugars found in that scent? Anyway, the sugar note is properly sugary and it smells divine. I'd say this is probably 95% white sugar and 5% ylang ylang on me, especially in the throw, and this is one of the lotions where the throw is decent and the scent even lasts between hand washes. The ylang ylang in it is a little more noticeable after it has been on the skin for a few hours, but it is not nearly as strong as the sugar and it isn't heady. I need a bottle in my life!

Ylang Ylang and White Sugar.

I'm not really sure what purple musk contains, but I think there must be some kind of resin in it, as there's an incense-y note to this that I wasn't expecting from this duet. I get lily and incense-y musk from this, and since incense-y florals are not really in my wheelhouse, I don't feel the need to grab more of this one. I'm curious to read other reviews, though, to see what others are experiencing with this purple musk note.

Calla Lily and Purple Musk.

Flower Moon is a vision of nocturnal tenderness: pale ylang-ylang and moonflower absolute unfurl against sun-baked earth that is cooling under springtime moonlight. Flickers of white agave nectar and fragile, luminous stargazer lily exhale over a whisper of dark amber and wild honey, like sweet pollen dusted onto velvet wings.

I didn't order a decant of this scent, but my decanter kindly gifted me a tester of this to try that had enough in it for two tests. Flower Moon is very much a floral scent, with the flowers not being too high-pitched or heady, but I think I may be having a similar experience to leptonpyr, as I also get plenty of incense with the floral notes. It might be the amber in the blend, although it definitely made me think more of incense than amber. I had decided not to grab a decant of this one because of the earth note -- not because I dislike dirt notes, but because I didn't really myself appreciating it with these notes. Fortunately, there isn't any super earthy or moist dirt note in this scent -- but I can imagine some sun-baked, dry earth beneath the floral notes and their nectar if I sniff the scent up close. I like this moon more than I thought I would and think it is pretty, especially during the late drydown once the incense has calmed down, but since it didn't make me swoon like its lotion did, I'm not sure I need a bottle of this one. (I will probably huff my now empty tester a few more times before the scent goes away just to be sure, though. 😅)

Teakwood, tolu balsam, beeswax, lilac cream, polished amber, and spiced honey.

“Good morning, Eeyore,” said Pooh. “Good morning, Pooh Bear,” said Eeyore gloomily. “If it is a good morning,” he said. “Which I doubt,” said he. “Why, what’s the matter?” “Nothing, Pooh Bear, nothing. We can’t all, and some of us don’t. That’s all there is to it.” “Can’t all what?” said Pooh, rubbing his nose. “Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush.” “Oh!” said Pooh. He thought for a long time, and then asked, “What mulberry bush is that?” “Bon-hommy,” went on Eeyore gloomily. “French word meaning bonhommy,” he explained. “I’m not complaining, but There It Is.” Every solid friend group has at least one goth kid representing. Soft grey musk, pink thistle, lavender ash, tea leaves, pale iris, grey lilac, and rain-soaked moss. Each purchase of Gloomily, Gloomily comes with a 1/32 oz imp of The Donkey’s Tail. The Donkey’s Tail is not available for sale on its own, and make sure you keep it safe as you never know where it might end up.

Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. – Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

Ink-dark skies ripple with stardust and prophecy, and the air hums with the scent of revolution: smoked myrrh and velvet incense glittering with ti leaf and Italian bergamot.

Hearthglow, a cousin to BPAL’s Heartglow, is an anointing oil for keeping the home safe, welcoming, and quietly joyful. It is an oil of gentle warmth, built to protect the household and its inhabitants, comfort and honor house spirits and guardians of place, encourage peace and understanding, and create an atmosphere of love, emotional safety, and mutual care. Suitable for use in ritual work and to anoint doorframes, hearths, windowsills, and keys. Contains: fossilized amber resin, frankincense, dragon’s blood resin, orris root, red sandalwood, lavender, patchouli, clove, allspice, burdock, sweet orange, honey absolute, sweet grains, and marjoram.

Gliding through the velvet hush of midnight, she moves — barefoot on cool stone, wrapped in a whisper of clove-scented silk. A flicker of candlelight catches the curve of her throat, the glint in her half-lidded eyes. Dark florals, bruised and beckoning — black orchid, scarlet poppy, and moonlit tuberose — whisper their secrets against the heat of her skin. A breath of smoked vanilla curls like an incantation, weaving through ribbons of amber resin and spiced honey. Beneath it all, the slow, insistent pull of patchouli and oud, ancient and aching. This is the art of longing, the alchemy of desire.

Each purchase of Gloomily, Gloomily comes with a 1/32 oz imp of the Donkey’s Tail. The Donkey’s Tail is not available for sale on its own, and make sure you keep it safe as you never know where it might end up. “That Accounts for a Good Deal,” said Eeyore gloomily. “It Explains Everything. No Wonder.” Doubles as a bell-pull: a beribboned strip of French lavender, bourbon vanilla, silver thistle, grey musk, pink silk, and well-loved grey cotton.

Pink Lime & Coconut.

A scandalous affair between silk-furred conspirators: tails entwined beneath tables, furrrrtive glances stolen and held too long, stolen hours, arched backs, and the scent of unfamiliar catnip rubbed on jeweled collars. An indolent purr of cream-soaked shortbread biscuits, cracked cardamom, pink pepper, smoked vanilla bean, and cocoa powder.

Well-worn, soft leather encircled by spiky gilded amber.

“I have no pity! I have no pity! The more worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails! It is a moral teething, and I grind with greater energy, in proportion to the increase of pain.” A feral and unrepentant animalic musk slick with heat, tangled with smoked birch tar that clings to skin like soot and desire. Refined cologne masks a deep, grinding base of dark resins, cracked leather, and vetiver root; earth torn open, roots exposed. An elemental fury, a wild, fanatical embrace terribly alive in its darkness. Formulated to be layered with CATHERINE, or worn as a standalone scent.

Pleasure is a freedom-song, But it is not freedom. It is the blossoming of your desires, But it is not their fruit. It is a depth calling unto a height, But it is not the deep nor the high. It is the caged taking wing, But it is not space encompassed. Ay, in very truth, pleasure is a freedom-song. And I fain would have you sing it with fullness of heart; yet I would not have you lose your hearts in the singing. Some of your youth seek pleasure as if it were all, and they are judged and rebuked. I would not judge nor rebuke them. I would have them seek. For they shall find pleasure, but not her alone; Seven are her sisters, and the least of them is more beautiful than pleasure. Have you not heard of the man who was digging in the earth for roots and found a treasure? And some of your elders remember pleasures with regret like wrongs committed in drunkenness. But regret is the beclouding of the mind and not its chastisement. They should remember their pleasures with gratitude, as they would the harvest of a summer. Yet if it comforts them to regret, let them be comforted. And there are among you those who are neither young to seek nor old to remember; And in their fear of seeking and remembering they shun all pleasures, lest they neglect the spirit or offend against it. But even in their foregoing is their pleasure. And thus they too find a treasure though they dig for roots with quivering hands. But tell me, who is he that can offend the spirit? Shall the nightingale offend the stillness of the night, or the firefly the stars? And shall your flame or your smoke burden the wind? Think you the spirit is a still pool which you can trouble with a staff? Oftentimes in denying yourself pleasure you do but store the desire in the recesses of your being. Who knows but that which seems omitted today, waits for tomorrow? Even your body knows its heritage and its rightful need and will not be deceived. And your body is the harp of your soul, And it is yours to bring forth sweet music from it or confused sounds. And now you ask in your heart, “How shall we distinguish that which is good in pleasure from that which is not good?” Go to your fields and your gardens, and you shall learn that it is the pleasure of the bee to gather honey of the flower, But it is also the pleasure of the flower to yield its honey to the bee. For to the bee a flower is a fountain of life, And to the flower a bee is a messenger of love, And to both, bee and flower, the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy. People of Orphalese, be in your pleasures like the flowers and the bees. Be in your pleasures like the flowers and the bees: candied rose petals, red honey, sweet berries, and luxuriant red musk.

Red tobacco, crimson musk, sweet red patchouli, nutmeg, vanilla bourbon, rose geranium, and saffron-gilded red amber.

Black velvet steeped in tea leaves, infernal cologne, and crimson resins, Vinegar Tom exudes shadowy seduction. The scent evokes honeyed flatteries, secret pacts, and whispered promises slipping from the lips of a finely dressed lothario. Please note: this oil contains honey absolute.

Welcome my sweet daughter, my favorite, the King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Maatkare, Hatshepsut. Thou art the Pharaoh, taking possession of the Two Lands. Maatkare, the Good Goddess, Divine Daughter of Amun, sixth pharaoh of the Eighteenth Dynasty, androgynous queen regnant who wore the uraeus-crowned Khat, traditional false beard, and the shendyt and bore the double crown as Mother and Father of Egypt. She sent five ships to the Land of Punt and brought back thirty-one living myrrh trees, their roots balled in soil, to be planted at the terraced temple of Deir el-Bahari, the Djeser-Djeseru. Her scent is imperial and vibrant, seizing back her power from those who would erase her: myrrh trees crossing the Red Sea in the hold of a ship, the dark smoke of kyphi drifting through limestone colonnades, ground frankincense and kohl, warm sand and blue lotus incense, cedarwood from Byblos, the dry resinous breath of obelisk granite in the sun, and a base of black amber and sacred anointing oil.

Roselight is a gentle love-bonding oil crafted to help fortify partnerships and relationships during challenging times. A balm for frayed nerves and sharp words, it coaxes remembrance of shared laughter, of private language, of the sweetness that first took root. Anoint the wrists, the pulse at the throat, or the space above the heart before speaking hard truths or making heavy decisions. Wear it to bridge divides and bring comfort. Let it serve as a promise to protect what is tender, to fortify what is faithful, and to keep choosing one another with patience, warmth, and deliberate grace. Contains: three rose oil variants, heartsease, violet blossoms, angelica root, orris root, benzoin, lavender, ylang ylang, jasmine sampaguita, and a touch of warming spices.

We’re all desperate for something light and uplifting here at BPAL, so this year’s Beev is a zingy key lime cheesecake with a whisper of lime sugar.

Bittersweet chocolate and ripe black fig touched by a curl of smoldering campfire smoke.

Ancient and unhurried, warm and resinous incense smoke curls through a palace that has stood since before the dawn of history. Amber sparkling like Byzantine beadwork, poppy petals, sweet frankincense smoke swirling into ornamental flourishes, feathery white orris. Gilded with ancient tales, this perfume dries into something akin to the inside of a forgotten reliquary box: sacred objects, old wood, petals pressed flat by the weight of centuries.