doomsday_disco
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Everything posted by doomsday_disco
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A row of plump, cardamom-spiced sweet buns overflowing with pooflets of lavender cream and almond paste.
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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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An ode to persistent typos and overconfident, profoundly incorrect autocorrect. Dedicated to Ali in gratitude for years upon years of undangling my participles. Proceeds from the sale of this scent benefit Philadelphia’s Childrens Literacy Initiative who helps provide Black and Latino children with high-quality and culturally sustaining literary education. 7-year aged patchouli, candied dates, and dried red currant.
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This goes on with the dusty patch of the Snake Oil being the most prominent aspect of the scent on me. The pomegranate note is present, but it is rather understated. Over time, the Snake Oil spices join with the patch, so that it's mostly Snake Oil slinking through that little bit of candied pomegranate, which makes it seem like a slightly darker Snake Oil blend. I can't compare it to any other pomegranate GC variants as I haven't tried any of the others, but there's definitely way less pom here than other pomegranate grove scents I've tried. I no longer have any around (since I swapped my bottle away many years ago), but I would probably put this in the same family as Snake Charmer, due to them both containing spices and dark fruits, but this is not as complex, not as strong or as spiced, and the candied pom is way more subtle than Snake Charmer's plum. I think I'll hang onto my decant of this to see how it ages, but I have fortunately been spared from needing a bottle of this (which is good, because this Yule update has slain me). Snakes in the Coffee Beans is the Snake Oil variant of win from this year's Yule update.
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Snake Oil and Candied Pomegranate.
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I was hoping that this would be pomegranate swirled an actual pistachio cream, whether that be the pistachio cream that's so trendy in desserts right now or the almond-esque pistachio cream in a pistachio cream pie. Unfortunately, it's that cherry/almond sort of pistachio that I got from Vanilla Cream, Pistachio, and Macadamia.... and the cherry aspect of that, combined with the pomegranate, just smells medicinal to me. The pomegranate ended up as the dominant note, but it still could not take it out of that territory, to my nose. And I never got any actual cream note.
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Pomegranate and Pistachio Cream.
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We have resurrected Black Phoenix Trading Post’s sensual 2009 masterpiece. Red rose buds, with amber, clove, tonka, Indian musk, fir, and tobacco.
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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.
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Lady of the Black Cat skull: sweet innocence with a dark mystery, wrapped in black leather and lace, guided by dreams and succumbing to nightmares. Sugared amber, orchid petals, and vanilla chiffon spiced with smoked cardamom.
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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.
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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.