Jenjin
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Everything posted by Jenjin
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Separation, the veil of distinction. A tumble of pearly pale-blue chiffon shot through with slashes of white ginger and lined with ivory satin rosettes.
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Leather, red silk, mahogany, lotus root, honey cream, and red sandalwood.
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Dark, rooty, sweet patchouli swirled with honey. The talisman that Owl Moon is inspired by is bewitching. A crescent moon, filled with new promise and completion entwined with the majestic night owl. I'm not going to go into the breathtaking Bloodmilk presentation of these bottles, except to say they are impeccable, amazingly branded and absolute art pieces. The melding of the BPAL Three Swords with the Bloodmilk Planchette is brilliant and powerful. I am completely blown away by this collaboration. Earthy and rich, just after applying I feel like a mystic goddess plodding through a soft, evergreen forest of moonlight and furry night creatures. Wet, I can detect the sticky honey mixing with the patch. Sending wafts of exotic, opulent musk around me, it clears the mind while allowing a transformation of pure lust and dark dances. This may be the sexiest Beth creation EVER! I want to POUNCE~ After wearing for 30 minutes, the honey note settles into the patchouli in a seductive way. Owl Moon is absolutely captivating! Exotic, richly spiced and precious, this is one of the most sensual fragrances I have ever encountered; intoxicating, deep and an instant classic. Stay diligent my lovelies, and you can also catch this beautiful owl as a few are released into the wild with each Bloodmilk update.
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The shuddering beat of a poet’s heart ―filigree-fair, diaphanous: bourbon vanilla fougere, violet leaf, iris root, Italian bergamot, porcelain accord, and a trickle of red musk. Well, if my heart must break, Dear love, for your sake, It will break in music, I know; Poets’ hearts break so. But strange that I was not told, That the brain can hold In a tiny ivory cell God’s Heaven and Hell. – Oscar Wilde
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Glittering amber, frankincense, neroli, vanilla silk, and champaca. O garment not golden but gilded, O garden where all men may dwell, O tower not of ivory, but builded By hands that reach heaven from hell; O mystical rose of the mire, O house not of gold but of gain, O house of unquenchable fire, Our Lady of Pain!
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A sugar-crusted vanilla peppermint stick!
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A solitary track stretched out upon the world: grey amber and white oud, ti leaf, vanilla ash and white sandalwood. ❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️ Snow: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight deeper and deeper for three days or sixty years, eh? Then the sun! a clutter of yellow and blue flakes — Hairy looking trees stand out in long alleys over a wild solitude. The man turns and there — his solitary track stretched out upon the world. – William Carlos Williams
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Merlot and Frankincense
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BPAL’s perennial favorite, Snake Oil, soaked in whiskey, honey, and a twist of lemon.
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No additional description.
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The cadaver, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind: a chilly whoosh of dead leaves seasoned with the perfect amount of smog.
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Black velvet, ancient climbing roses, champaca magnolia, and deep, resonant strings of amber. Mayday Art: She Comes With Footsteps Light What potent blood hath modest May. – Ralph Waldo Emerson Artist - Edward Okun
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Dissolution, the flowing veil. A crystal-sequined torrent of lilac-wine organza soiled with trampled grapeskins, cinnabar smudges, and smears of liquid myrrh.
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Eugène Carrière - The Contemplator A soft, warm, meditative blend of balsam tolu, tonka absolute, vetiver, bourbon vanilla, palo santo, sandalwood, and Indonesian teak.
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A goth awakening: waxy drugstore lipstick and clove cig residue.
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And where should a man bring his sweet to woo But here, where such hundreds were lovers too? Where lie the dead lips that thirst to kiss, The empty hands that their fellows miss, Where the maid and her lover, from sere to green, Sleep bed by bed, with the worm between? For it's turn of the year and All Souls' night, When the dead can hear and the dead have sight. Cold white iris, benzoin, and bitter frozen aldehydes. This is quite unusual. The white iris comes out right away, along with a creaminess. Like the smell of thick, white pearly makeup paint that a ghost might spread across it's cheeks before a spooky, dead dance. I can detect the benzoin blended with the aldehydes which gives it a vintage, almost cold cream feel. My gauzy dress is frozen and won't come off no matter how long you kiss me.
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Peaches and sugared cream with pink lotus petals a drop of orange blossom.
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Coagulation, the veil that lays bare. Bare skin visible through a glittering web of blood-red garnet beads strung on threads spun from filaments of pure gold.
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Hungry Ghost Moon: Wildflower Honey and Sweet Amber Lotion
Jenjin replied to doomsday_disco's topic in Lotion
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The cost of protection proved to be more than any one person could pay. Smoky vetiver, flaming sparks of black pepper, clove, and nutmeg, charred wood, and dark amber.
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Steeped a bit too long because I wandered off and forgot about it.
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Snake Oil slithering through a scattering of dead leaves with amber, cardamom, cistus, hops, white sandalwood, neroli, orris root, and smoked vanilla.
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Sweet chestnut, vanilla cashmere, toasted cardamom, and caramel.