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Moths, Ancient Tablets, and Bondage Trousers! Welcome to This Week’s News Roundup

2015 October 2
by black phoenix


Welcome to our weekly roundup of cherished news bits! This week’s batch:

☠ A new species of venemous snake was discovered in Australia. Behold, theKimberley Death Adder!

☠ A muse of Alexander McQueen describes her encounters with the designer: “I’m thinking: Moths, glass, naked… oh my God!”

☠ The new animated DC series Superhero Girls gets a teaser promo. Poison Ivy for Homecoming Queen!

☠ The bones of over 50 people dating back to the 11th century have beendiscovered beneath Westminster Abbey, including those of a three year-old child: “It is a feature of many ecclesiastical sites that you find the remains of women and children in places where you might not quite expect them.”

☠ Also newly discovered: Tablet V of The Epic of Gilgamesh.

☠ In case you need a remedial lesson in punk fashion, here’s a video in which Malcolm McLaren explains the origins of bondage trousers.

☠ Magical charms weren’t just recited in the Middle Ages – they were sung. One such example has survived, and  you can listen (and learn it) here.

Toccata and fugue in D minor, played on drinking glasses. ‘Nuff said.

This Week’s Featured GC Scent

2015 October 1
by black phoenix

Scent: The Knave of Hearts

Collection: Mad Tea Party, a series inspired by the fiction of Lewis Carroll

Description: ‘Herald, read the accusation!’ said the King. On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows:–

‘The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,
All on a summer day:
The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts,
And took them quite away!’

Crushed roses and blackcurrant tarts.

For a good time, pair with:

This is an ebullient and sweet fragrance that will totally blow your cover if you attempt any heists. Better to announce yourself and your intentions openly by inviting someone over for a rainy-day screening of René Clément’s 1954 Canne prize-winner “Knave of Hearts” (originally titled “Lover Boy” or “Lovers, Happy Lovers!”)


For a party of one, apply generously to the Joan Baez rendition of “Lily, Rosemary, and the Jack of Hearts” (1976):

If you simply must go out and about, brace yourself for public interest. A heart-shaped eyepatch is in order, obviously.



Follow along each week as we explore our general catalog one fragrance at a time! In the meantime, swipe as many hearts (or tarts) as you can carry.

This Week’s Best of #BPAL on Instagram

2015 September 29
by black phoenix


This week top honors go to IG’s conjuringspirits for pairing original artwork by guineverevonsneeden with a bottle of Verdandi. We’ll be following you both from now on!

Keep tagging #BPAL in your unique product shots and we’ll repost the best ones week by week – especially as those Lilith and Weenie orders start landing.

New Lunacy Is Live! Sink Into the Marsh of Corruption and Seethe with the Blood Moon.

2015 September 26

The Lunacy is live! We invite you to trek through the Marsh of Corruption and seethe with the Blood Moon.


The Marsh of Corruption: murky patchouli and dank oakmoss drowning in a mire of leathery bourbon vanilla, bitter clove, bog cypress, cumin, and vetiver.



May the Gods show mercy to any who stand in the way.Impenetrable, blood-spattered, Martial red musk, fiery pomegranate and black pepper, the splintered woods of uncountable wooden arrow shafts and shields, sharp frankincense and morose myrrh, all smothering the gentler impulses of the moon.Only 300 bottles of this Blood Moon were crafted. $27 per little bottle of rage.


Want to keep up to date on all the BPAL news? Follow us on FacebookTwitterTumblrjoin our mailing list, visit our Forums, or follow our blog The Black Phoenix Gazette.

Bones, Tombs, Books, and More! Welcome to This Week’s News Roundup

2015 September 25
by black phoenix


Welcome to our weekly roundup of cherished news bits! This week’s batch:

☠  Sales update: BPAL will no longer offer a $2 discount with the purchase of 6 imp’s ears. Adjust thine expectations accordingly! (As a consolation, here’s a handy guide on proper usage of thou/thy/thine.)

NPR explores the Bass Donated Skeleton Collection, teaching forensic analysis on donor corpses. Interested in donating your own bones? Here ya go.

The world’s oldest papyrus, discovered in 2013, appears to have been written by men who participated in the building of the Great Pyramid.

Carolyne Larrington’s new book The Land of the Green Man shows how Britain’s supernatural stories from antiquity can help us understand reality.

☠ Patron saint of sleaze John Waters explains his complicated family relationships, self-identifying as “a weird gay version of my father.”

The Fashion of Crimson Peak. ‘Nuff said.

☠ Feeling claustrophobic? Spend the next 7 minutes learning just how far you are from everything else in our solar system. Watch below!

To Scale: The Solar System from Wylie Overstreet on Vimeo.

This Week’s Featured GC Scent

2015 September 24
by black phoenix

Screenshot 2015-09-24 at 11.47.59 AM

Scent: Black Cat

CollectionConjure Bag, a series inspired by authentic New Orleans voodoo recipes

Description“A very tricky kitty, indeed. Used most often as a key to bringing back the joy one needs to have in life in order for living to feel worthwhile. Brings back a sense of delight in simple pleasures, and creates a surge of childlike curiosity and a youthful sense of fun. This blend can also be used to reverse troublesome lesser crossings, create a playful air of catlike sexuality, and, because cats will be cats, it can also be used to throw minor, irritating or bothersome hexes, causing small amounts of chaos and disruption to your foes.”

For a good time, pair with: A screening of either the 1942 or 1982 versions of “Cat People,” two films with very different spins on the same subject: an accursed race of people who turn into wild animals when aroused.

In the earlier film, the main character’s perfume is described as “not like flowers exactly… it’s like something warm, and living.” The latter, set in New Orleans, features a David Bowie soundtrack.

Also check out the 1944 sequel “Curse of the Cat People,” which is just as haunting despite *ahem* containing no actual cat people. 



Follow along on Tumblr each week as we explore our general catalog one fragrance at a time! In the meantime, become the black cat that crosses everyone else’s path.



Halloween 2015 Fragrances Abound! Plus an Update from the Pickman Gallery

2015 September 23
by black phoenix


The skies have darkened, and summer’s last bright green leaf has turned. Halloween is here at BlackPhoenix Alchemy Lab.

The Halloween sets, including the Pickman Gallery, will be live until December 28th.




A day of remembrance and intercession. Without the prayers and sacrifices of their families and loved
ones, the faithful departed may not be cleansed of their venal sins, and thereby cannot attain beatific
vision. On November 2nd, prayers are sung and offerings are made to aid lost souls in transcending
purgatory. An incense blend that invokes the higher qualities of mercy and compassion, mingled with
the soft, sugared currant scent of offertory soul cakes.


A joyous celebration of La Catarina, La Flaca, La Muerte… Glorious, Beautiful Death. In Mexico, death is not something to be feared or hated; She is embraced, loved, and adored. La Muerte is fêted, as the
celebrant “…chases after it, mocks it, courts it, hugs it, sleeps with it; it is his favorite plaything and his most lasting love.” This is a Mexican paean to La Huesuda: dry, crackling leaves, the incense smoke of altars honoring Death and the Dead, funeral bouquets, the candies, chocolates, foods and tobacco of the ofrenda, amaranth, sweet cactus blossom and desert cereus.


A barrel of beer, a pyramid of cakes, and three sticks of incense.


With cinnamon, nutmeg, browned butter, and cream cheese icing.


Comme les anges à l’oeil fauve,
Je reviendrai dans ton alcôve
Et vers toi glisserai sans bruit
Avec les ombres de la nuit;
Et je te donnerai, ma brune,
Des baisers froids comme la lune
Et des caresses de serpent
Autour d’une fosse rampant.
Quand viendra le matin livide,
Tu trouveras ma place vide,
Où jusqu’au soir il fera froid.
Comme d’autres par la tendresse,
Sur ta vie et sur ta jeunesse,
Moi, je veux régner par l’effroi.

– – –

Like angels with wild beast’s eyes
I shall return to your bedroom
And silently glide toward you
With the shadows of the night;
And, dark beauty, I shall give you
Kisses cold as the moon
And the caresses of a snake
That crawls around a grave.
When the livid morning comes,
You’ll find my place empty,
And it will be cold there till night.
I wish to hold sway over
Your life and youth by fear,
As others do by tenderness.

— Charles Baudelaire, translation by William Aggeler.

A shroud of gardenia, narcissus, and sandalwood with ambrette seed, white cognac, muguet, davana,
and white musk.


By what a subtle alchemy the green leaves are transmuted into gold, as if molten by the fiery blaze of the hot sun! A magic covering spreads over the whole forest, and brightens into more gorgeous hues. The
tree-tops seem bathed with the gold and crimson of an Italian sunset. Here and there a shade of green,
here and there a tinge of purple, and a stain of scarlet so deep and rich, that the most cunning artifice of man is pale beside it. A thousand delicate shades melt into each other. They blend fantastically into one deep mass. They spread over the forest like a tapestry woven with a thousand hues.

Magnificent Autumn! He comes not like a pilgrim, clad in russet weeds. He comes not like a hermit, clad
in gray. But he comes like a warrior, with the stain of blood upon his brazen mail. His crimson scarf is rent. His scarlet banner drips with gore. His step is like a flail upon the threshing floor.

The scene changes. It is the Indian summer. The rising sun blazes through the misty air like a conflagration. A yellowish,smoky haze fills the atmosphere; and

–A filmy mist,
Lies like a silver lining on the sky.

The wind is soft and low. It wafts to us the odor of forest leaves, that hang wilted on the dripping
branches, or drop into the stream. Their gorgeous tints are gone, as if the autumnal rains had washed
them out. Orange, yellow, and scarlet, all are changed to one melancholy russet hue. The birds, too, have taken wing, and have left their roofless dwellings. Not the whistle of a robin, not the twitter of an eavesdropping swallow, not the carol of one sweet, familiar voice! All gone. Only the dismal cawing of a crow, as he sits and curses, that the harvest is over, – or the chit-chat of an idle squirrel, – the noisy denizen of a hollow tree, – the mendicant friar of a large parish, – the absolute monarch of a dozen acorns!

Another change.

The wind sweeps through the forest with a sound like the blast of a trumpet. The dry leaves whirl in
eddies through the air. A fret-work of hoar-frost covers the plain. The stagnant water in the pools and
ditches is frozen into fantastic figures. Nature ceases from her labors, and prepares for the great change.

In the low-hanging clouds, the sharp air, like a busy shuttle, weaves her shroud of snow. There is a
melancholy and continual roar in the tops of the tall pines, like the roar of a cataract. It is the funeral anthem of the dying year.

A scent that wanders through the Ages of Autumn, from the last green leaf to the first breath of winter.


Ay, thou art welcome, heaven’s delicious breath!
When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf,
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief
And the year smiles as it draws near its death.
Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
Like to a good old age released from care,
Journeying, in long serenity, away.
In such a bright, late quiet, would that I
Might wear out life like thee, ‘mid bowers and brooks
And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,
And music of kind voices ever nigh;
And when my last sand twinkled in the glass,
Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass.

Dry, cold autumn wind. A rustle of red leaves, a touch of smoke and sap in the air.


Because this is all that I’ve wanted out of life for months.


A peculiar point of contention: you either love it or hate it, and however you feel, it’s passionate.


Truly the scent of autumn itself — damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest
touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.


Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.

– Albert Camus

An accolade: drifting leaves tinted in the bold reds of pomegranate and currant, the golds of amber and
honey, russet myrrh, a touch of cypress-green, and crisp patchouli-brown.


Ils me disent, tes yeux, clairs comme le cristal:
“Pour toi, bizarre amant, quel est donc mon mérite?”
– Sois charmante et tais-toi! Mon coeur, que tout irrite,
Excepté la candeur de l’antique animal,
Ne veut pas te montrer son secret infernal,
Berceuse dont la main aux longs sommeils m’invite,
Ni sa noire légende avec la flamme écrite.
Je hais la passion et l’esprit me fait mal!
Aimons-nous doucement. L’Amour dans sa guérite,
Ténébreux, embusqué, bande son arc fatal.
Je connais les engins de son vieil arsenal:
Crime, horreur et folie! – Ô pâle marguerite!
Comme moi n’es-tu pas un soleil automnal,
Ô ma si blanche, ô ma si froide Marguerite?

They say to me, your eyes, clear as crystal:
“For you, bizarre lover, what is my merit then?”
– Be charming and be still! My heart, which all things irk,
Except the candor of the animals of old,
Does not wish to reveal its black secret to you,
Whose lulling hands invite me to long sleep,
Nor its somber legend written with flame.
I hate passion; intelligence makes me suffer!
Let us love each other sweetly. Tenebrous Love,
Ambushed in his shelter, stretches his fatal bow.
I know all the weapons of his old arsenal:
Crime, horror, and madness! – pale marguerite!
Are you not, like me, an autumnal sun,
O my Marguerite, so white and so cold?

– Charles Baudelaire, translated by William Aggeler

Tenebrous Love: a shivering white musk with vanilla-infused white cocoa, amber incense, and dead, dry leaves.


Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits.


There came a ghost to Margret’s door,
With many a grievous groan,
And ay he tirled at the pin,
But answer made she none.

‘Is that my father Philip,
Or is’t my brother John?
Or is’t my true-love, Willy,
From Scotland new come home?’

‘’Tis not thy father Philip,
Nor yet thy brother John;
But ’tis thy true-love, Willy,
From Scotland new come home.

‘O sweet Margret, O dear Margret,
I pray thee speak to me;
Give me my faith and troth, Margret,
As I gave it to thee.’

‘Thy faith and troth thou’s never get,
Nor yet will I thee lend,
Till that thou come within my bower,
And kiss my cheek and chin.’

‘If I shoud come within thy bower,
I am no earthly man;
And shoud I kiss thy rosy lips,
Thy days will not be lang.

‘O sweet Margret, O dear Margret,
I pray thee speak to me;
Give me my faith and troth, Margret,
As I gave it to thee.’

‘Thy faith and troth thou’s never get,
Nor yet will I thee lend,
Till you take me to yon kirk,
And wed me with a ring.’

‘My bones are buried in yon kirk-yard,
Afar beyond the sea,
And it is but my spirit, Margret,
That’s now speaking to thee.’

She stretchd out her lilly-white hand,
And, for to do her best,
‘Hae, there’s your faith and troth, Willy,
God send your soul good rest.’

Now she has kilted her robes of green
A piece below her knee,
And a’ the live-lang winter night
The dead corp followed she.

‘Is there any room at your head, Willy?
Or any room at your feet?
Or any room at your side, Willy,
Wherein that I may creep?’

‘There’s no room at my head, Margret,
There’s no room at my feet;
There’s no room at my side, Margret,
My coffin’s made so meet.’

Then up and crew the red, red cock,
And up then crew the gray:
‘Tis time, tis time, my dear Margret,
That you were going away.’

No more the ghost to Margret said,
But, with a grievous groan,
Evanishd in a cloud of mist,
And left her all alone.

‘O stay, my only true-love, stay,’
The constant Margret cry’d;
Wan grew her cheeks, she closd her een,
Stretchd her soft limbs, and dy’d.

Is there any room at your head, Willy? Or any room at your feet? Or any room at your side, Willy,
wherein that I may creep? A scent of unendurable grief and longing: pale orris root and honeyed white
lily chilled by wild carrot and cognac, pulled into a winding sheet of white jasmine, tobacco flower,
tuberose, and patchouli.


“The wind doth blow today, my love,
And a few small drops of rain;
I never had but one true-love,
In cold grave she was lain.”

“I’ll do as much for my true-love
As any young man may;
I’ll sit and mourn all at her grave
For a twelvemonth and a day.”

The twelvemonth and a day being up,
The dead began to speak:
“Oh who sits weeping on my grave,
And will not let me sleep?”

“’T is I, my love, sits on your grave,
And will not let you sleep;
For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,
And that is all I seek.”

“You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
But my breath smells earthy strong;
If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
Your time will not be long.

“’Tis down in yonder garden green,
Love, where we used to walk,
The finest flower that e’re was seen
Is withered to a stalk.

“The stalk is withered dry, my love,
So will our hearts decay;
So make yourself content, my love,
Till God calls you away.”

One kiss of clay-cold lips: frozen white roses, frankincense, white gardenia, white sandalwood, and
vanilla orchid.


“I am come-I am come! once again from the tomb,
In return for the ring which you gave;
That I am thine, and that thou art mine,
This nuptial pledge receive.”
He lay like a corse ‘neath the Demon’s force,
And she wrapp’d him in a shroud;
And she fixed her teeth his heart beneath,
And she drank of the warm life-blood!
And ever and anon murmur’d the lips of stone,
“Soft and warm is this couch of thine,
Thou’lt to-morrow be laid on a colder bed-
Albert! that bed will be mine!”
– Henry Thomas Liddell

Icy skin touched by a perfume of violet leaf, white tea, olibanum, elemi, myrrh, wormwood, crypt dust,
and saffron with a dribble of blood red musk.


O brothers mine, take care! Take care!
The great white witch rides out to-night.
Trust not your prowess nor your strength,
Your only safety lies in flight;
For in her glance there is a snare,
And in her smile there is a blight.

The great white witch you have not seen?
Then, younger brothers mine, forsooth,
Like nursery children you have looked
For ancient hag and snaggle-tooth;
But no, not so; the witch appears
In all the glowing charms of youth.

Her lips are like carnations, red,
Her face like new-born lilies, fair,
Her eyes like ocean waters, blue,
She moves with subtle grace and air,
And all about her head there floats
The golden glory of her hair.

But though she always thus appears
In form of youth and mood of mirth,
Unnumbered centuries are hers,
The infant planets saw her birth;
The child of throbbing Life is she,
Twin sister to the greedy earth.

And back behind those smiling lips,
And down within those laughing eyes,
And underneath the soft caress
Of hand and voice and purring sighs,
The shadow of the panther lurks,
The spirit of the vampire lies.

For I have seen the great white witch,
And she has led me to her lair,
And I have kissed her red, red lips
And cruel face so white and fair;
Around me she has twined her arms,
And bound me with her yellow hair.

I felt those red lips burn and sear
My body like a living coal;
Obeyed the power of those eyes
As the needle trembles to the pole;
And did not care although I felt
The strength go ebbing from my soul.

Oh! she has seen your strong young limbs,
And heard your laughter loud and gay,
And in your voices she has caught
The echo of a far-off day,
When man was closer to the earth;
And she has marked you for her prey.

She feels the old Antaean strength
In you, the great dynamic beat
Of primal passions, and she sees
In you the last besieged retreat
Of love relentless, lusty, fierce,
Love pain-ecstatic, cruel-sweet.

O, brothers mine, take care! Take care!
The great white witch rides out to-night.
O, younger brothers mine, beware!
Look not upon her beauty bright;
For in her glance there is a snare,
And in her smile there is a blight.

Love pain-ecstatic, cruel-sweet: gold-flecked honey amber pulsating with red musk, patchouli coeur,
bourbon vanilla, inky vetiver, pomegranate rind, myrrh, blackened violet leaf, and blood red rose petals.



Every leaf tells a story.








A pastime thought to have its roots in fertility and mate-hunting divination. Presented, for your
pleasure, a selection of apples to bob for.


Apple with hay absolute, oats, honey, cream vanilla, and goat’s milk accord.


Green apple with pink pepper, Himalayan cedar, juniper berries, and lemon rind.


Appalachian black apple with sweet tobacco and patchouli, orange blossom, vanilla champaca,lavender, and white honey.


Red apple with blackcurrant bud, black clove, and vanilla bourbon.


Apple with white coconut, fig, and tiare.



Black Phoenix’s cheeky interpretation of the iconic scents of the season. No actual single notes – or
clowns – were harmed during the creation of these blends.










– – –



Sympathy for the Devil: An Intimate Evening With Old Scratch and Hecate’s Inheritance: Witches, Our Sisters on view at the Pickman Gallery from September 18 to December 28, 2015

Arkham, MA (March 13, 2015)— On view from September 18 through December 28, 2015,at Pickman Gallery, Arkham, MA, Sympathy for the Devil: An Intimate Evening With Old Scratch and Hecate’s Inheritance: Witches, Our Sisters. Sympathy for the Devil is guest curated by the Rhode Island School of Design’s Henry Anthony Wilcox. In this exhibition, Mr. Wilcox explores the many faces of the Son of the Morning, from Fallen Angel to Dapper Devil to Devourer of Souls. Hecate’s Inheritance was generously lent to Pickman Gallery by the Musée de Cauchemars in Paris, and is sponsored by Die Württembergischen Zentrum für Interdisziplinäre Studien über Hexerei und Zauberei in an effort to further promote coven recruitment and academic research.

Hecate’s Inheritance showcases thirteen exquisite depictions of witches and their craft, including the
works of Albert-Joseph Pénot, Henry Fuseli, Jean Veber, Frans Francken II, James Gillray, Jan de Bisschop, Jean van der Velde II, Agostino Veneziano, John Nixon, and John William Waterhouse.
Sympathy for the Devil includes a selection of seven visions of He Who Shuns the Light by Jean Miélo,
Nikolai Kalmakoff, Louis Boulanger, Michał Elwiro Andriolli, Paul Mathey, Thomas Stothard, and Henry

A private reception will be held at Pickman Gallery during the lunar eclipse on September 27, 2015, from midnight until 3am. RSVP required. Refreshments provided by Sister Shoggoth’s Microbrewery (Home of the original Protoplasmic Bubble Beer), Innsmouth Harbor Fishery, and the Old Arkham Cheese Shoppe.


Sympathy for the Devil was made possible by the generous support of Elizabeth Barrial, director of
the Black Phoenix Foundation for the Arts, and TJ Barrial, Visual Arts Professor and Department Chair at the Dunwich Academy of Arts, and was organized for the Celephaïs Athenæum by Brian Constantine,
Curator of Sculpture for the Clark Ashton Smith Memorial Gallery. Hecate’s Inheritance is sponsored by
Die Württembergischen Zentrum für Interdisziplinäre Studien über Hexerei und Zauberei, the Wüttemberg
Center for Interdisciplinary Studies on Witchcraft and Sorcery.

About the Pickman Gallery

The Pickman Gallery is the Miskatonic Valley’s premier privately-owned art gallery. Founded in 1923 by
interdimensionally renowned portrait artist Richard Upton Pickman, the Gallery offers the Miskatonic
Valley community a dynamic roster of stimulating, dread-provoking exhibitions and enriching public
programs. Though the Pickman generally focuses on Aestheticism and Decadence, nearly all artistic
movements have been represented throughout the years. Exhibitions organized by the Pickman have
featured the works of both local and international artists, and have encompassed all of the visual arts, including printmaking, photography, sculpture, video, film, and performance.

General Information

Pickman Gallery, 432 Sentinel Street, Arkham, MA 01914
Tel: 978/271-1300, Fax: 978/271-1313
Web site:


Tuesday, Thursday, Friday: Dusk – 1am
Saturday: Dusk – 3am
Sunday, Monday, and major astronomical events: Closed



James Gillray

Wig powder, amber-perfumed leather gloves, and rose petals with a sliver of oak bark and cauldron

Jan de Bisschop

Blackened tonka, patchouli, dragon’s blood resin, and scorched oak.

Albert-Joseph Pénot

Bourbon vanilla, sweet red patchouli, oudh, goat’s milk accord, and white honey.

Artist Unknown

Honey, rose petals, and carnations – a drop of blood – red clover, cubeb berries, and vanilla cream.

John William Waterhouse

Vanilla-infused frankincense and clary sage with 7-year aged patchouli, jasmine sambac, honey myrtle,
and oudh.

Jean van der Velde II

An evocation incense of frankincense, styrax, lavender buds, mastic, and white sandalwood mingled
with moonflower, violet absolute, tuberose, and dark musk.

Frans Francken II

Belladonna accord, sprigs of rue, crushed hyssop, white sage, beeswax, mandrake leaf, bay rum, black
honey, hemp, and myrrh.

Henry Fuseli

Mandrake root, apple blossom, dusty brown sandalwood, coconut milk, woodmusk, and soft leather.

Attributed to Luis Paret y Alcaza

Black lily and black pepper with narcissus, white musk, and white sandalwood.

Jean Veber

Pumpkin cream, honey, vanilla sugar, and smoked vanilla bean.

Agostino Veneziano

White sandalwood, opoponax, shriveled black plum, and vetiver.

Frans Francken II

Burgundy and champaca resin with immortelle, leather accord, wine-soaked red fruits, rose geranium
petals, red patchouli, guttering candles, and smoke.

John Nixon

Honey, cream and white rose petals buffeted by toadstools, creeping moss, bog cypress, and myrrh.

– – –



Jean Miélo

White musk, tobacco flower, white tea, Tunisian neroli, and blonde leather.

Nikolai Kalmakoff

Red musk and cacao with clove, caramelized tobacco, aged patchouli, red currant, black leather, and
vanilla-infused amber.

Louis Boulanger

Oman frankincense, black clove, and tobacco tar.

Michał Elwiro Andriolli

Brown leather, bay leaf, tobacco leaf, lavender, and oudh.

Paul Mathey

A debonair lavender fougere cloaked in smoky red musk, red mandarin, and oakmoss.

Henry Fuseli

Golden amber, carnation, blackcurrant, aged black patchouli, red musk, and vetiver.

Thomas Stothard

White leather and cypress-tinged white musk with cardamom, smouldering incense, Ceylon cinnamon
and white sandalwood.

– – –

Keep your eyes peeled: the Black Phoenix Trading Post Halloween update is imminent and BPAL’s paean
to the dead is being called in from the void. Two new Halloween scents will be debuting at Montreal’s
Pretty Indulgent, and our Crimson Peak collection will be unearthed soon.


Lilith’s 2015 Birthday Scents are Live on BPAL and Trading Post

2015 September 20
by black phoenix


Lilith, I love you. I love you more than words can convey. I love you more than my heart or mind can comprehend. I love all of you: the light and the dark, the cheerful and the complex. I love your luminous spirit, I love your generous, kind soul.

Truly, to me you are the Gladdener of All Hearts.

Happy birthday, kiddo.


On the beach at night alone,
As the old mother sways her to and fro, singing her husky song,
As I watch the bright stars shining, I think a thought of the clef of the universes, and of the future.

A vast similitude interlocks all,
All spheres, grown, ungrown, small, large, suns, moons, planets
All distances of place however wide,
All distances of time, all inanimate forms,
All souls, all living bodies, though they be ever so different, or in different worlds,
All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes, the fishes, the brutes,
All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages,
All identities that have existed, or may exist, on this globe, or any globe,
All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,
This vast similitude spans them, and always has spann’d,
And shall forever span them and compactly hold and enclose them.

Eternally lapping ocean waves at sunset, touched by the pale pinkish amber of the setting sun.


Lilith loves her kung fu classes. She loves her sifu, she loves the exercises, she loves practicing her forms. (She’s alright with the meditation aspect, but let’s be real: she’s a kid, and would rather be doing somersaults.) This year, she attained her blue belt, and this scent was created to commemorate her achievement. Baby, I am so proud of you. You worked so hard, and it paid off. I am always, always proud of you.

This Battle Fairy smells like blue cotton candy, strawberries, a plop of vanilla icing and a bit of crushed peppermint candy.


This year, Lilith started cultivating a love of Shakespeare, especially Hamlet. Man, this kid loves that play. I assumed, when we started talking about Shakespeare’s works, that she’d love the comedies, particularly Midsummer Night’s Dream and all its attendant fairies. Nope; it’s all about the mopey Prince of Denmark and his teen angst.

When she started at her Shakespeare summer camp this year, one of her teachers asked which characters she liked best. She replied, “Horatio.”

“Horatio? But he doesn’t have many lines, does he? Why do you like him so much?”

“He’s Hamlet’s best friend, he’s always there for Hamlet, and he’s the only one that doesn’t die.”

Wise words, kiddo!

This is a photo that I took of her watching Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet with her trusty sidekick, Wednesday. The dog, for her part, is a huge fan of the Two Gentlemen of Verona.

A little kid’s interpretation of Hamlet’s BFF. A scent of kindness and devotion, friendship and loyalty: soft brown leather and brushed suede with bourbon vanilla, toasted almond, tonka bean, and amber.


While we were at Kensal Green in March, Lilith began knocking on all the crypts to wake the ghosts. In her estimation, they were likely bored and lonely, and a party would do them some good. Lil is always very concerned about everyone’s happiness, both the living and the dead.

A spectral shindig: damp mosses, fallen leaves, and soft woods swirled with an ethereal mist of white sandalwood, lilac, orris root, and moonflower.


“Give me thy breath, my sister,” exclaimed Beatrice; “for I am faint with common air! And give me this flower of thine, which I separate with gentlest fingers from the stem, and place it close beside my heart.”

Lilith absolutely adores her carnivorous plants. She is doting and gentle… decidedly loving… and tends them with all of her precise, attentive Virgo care. She has a small pot of scarlet pink pitcher plants that are all her own, and two bogs that she shares with mom and dad.

Rosy snap-traps, syrupy mucilage, and pink, ballooning bladders: a scent like honey cotton candy, with hints of mint, sugar crystals, and a hint of crisp, bog-moist greenery.


“Lady Macbeth should have Macbeth and the king just play rock paper scissors to see who gets to be king. And then whoever wins has to play against her and if she wins, she gets to be king.”

– Lilith coming up with solutions as we begin reading the Scottish Play.

A Lilith’ized take on our Lady Macbeth scent, wherein ambition, covetousness, and manipulation are transformed into fairmindedness, equity, and a willingness to sometimes leave things to chance: sugared red currant and honey cake.


When our tarantula, Pinky, died, Lilith buried her. She cradled Pinky’s little body and placed her in a special box. She dug the grave with her own hands. She composed a memorial for Pinky, and spoke at her funeral. She laid a heart-shaped stone that she had found at the beach on her grave, and many months later, she still does what she can to tend Pinky’s grave.

She has a reverence and respect for both life and death that is as beautiful to me as it is uncanny. Just recently, Lilith asked Ted and I to compose eulogies for our Soccer Mom Car, which was recently totaled, so we could share our memories of the car and let the car know how much she meant to us, thanking our poor, unfortunate SUV for keeping us safe for so many years.

I love and treasure many things about my daughter, but to me, her big heart is her most beautiful aspect.

She seems to love everyone and everything, she forgives all, and she truly values other people’s feelings.

Lilith, you are a good person. You are a better person than I, I suspect, and it is an honor to be your mother.

A cotton candy-suffused blend of Snake Oil and Dorian, touched by earthy green moss and raiz de moras, hope-filled vanilla bean, sweet honey, and joyous carnation. The scent has roots in her bloodline and has been touched by the world, but is entirely her own. She is entirely her own.


O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention,
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
Leash’d in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire
Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all,
The flat unraised spirits that have dared
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object: can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest in little place a million;
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces work.
Suppose within the girdle of these walls
Are now confined two mighty monarchies,
Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder:
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
Into a thousand parts divide on man,
And make imaginary puissance;
Think when we talk of horses, that you see them
Printing their proud hoofs i’ the receiving earth;
For ’tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there; jumping o’er times,
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass: for the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this history;
Who prologue-like your humble patience pray,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.

Lilith performed this prologue with her Shakespeare camp this summer. It gave me chills every time I heard her practice her lines, and forevermore she will be my Muse of Fire.

The image accompanying this scent is from the morning of her performance. Lilith, you inspire me every day. Your love of Shakespeare has reinvigorated my own, and it means the world to me that we have this to share with one another.

My little Muse of Fire: an explosion of rainbow-hued flower petals dusted in sugar.

[Seriously… you have no idea how it made me feel to hear Lilith recite lines from Henry V. I still choke up every time I think on it too long, and when this prologue comes to mind, I hear it in her voice.]


Look, I just wanted to make a scent for Lilith and this baby goat. Because it makes me happy and BECAUSE LOOK AT IT. LOOK AT THAT BABY GOAT.

Fuzzy baby goat musk, goat’s milk accord, wild rice flower, and a little bit of farmer’s market honey.


While in London this year, Lilith learned how to blow bubbles with her bubblegum. It may not sound like a big deal, but I really do think that blowing bubbles is one of childhood’s great milestones. It’s a momentous occasion to a 6-year old, and is certainly deserving of commemoration!

This is the scent of the bubbles that she popped all over the city: strawberry bubblegum against a backdrop of chilly wind.


Last year, Lilith helped us set up one of the maze rooms for her school’s Halloween party. Not only did she help prep prop guts, but during the event, she spent some time assisting us by hiding in front of a glass window and throwing eyeballs, dismembered rubber fingers, and entrails at passers-by.

I love my kid.

Sticky white glops of marshmallow and clotted cream with ropes of sinewy strawberry licorice whips and oozing pink jelly.


This is the scent of the Royal Observatory at Greenwich on a cold, stormy day in March: ancient oaks and deep green mosses dampened by rain and sea salt.

Over at Black Phoenix Trading Post, Teddy has some stories to share about his life as Lilith’s daddy:


I love you.

Those three words are said every day by millions of people with varying degrees of meaning, but those three words cannot convey the depth of feelings I have for you.

Beth is my soulmate and I would be lost without her, but you make me want to live forever just so I can see all the amazing things you are capable of.

Up until you were born, I felt that my life was great. I had traveled the world, seen and did many wonderful things, but nothing compares to having you hug me and say, “Daddy, I love you.”

Just the other day, you said that you are going to learn how to make robots so that when we are old we can put our brains in robot bodies and live forever.

I hope that you can do that so I can spend my eternity with you and Beth.

I love you.



“Catch me dad!” she cries, and takes off.

How can I ever say no to my best friend?

I hope she never loses the joy of running because I will always be ready to run and play with her.

Sun-warmed dirt and wildflowers, a whiff of the lavender Lilith loves to use in her hair, and the green leaves of summer just turning to autumn’s russet and brown.


Captain Lilith, the scourge of the seven seas has returned.

Lilith and her crew were playing a spirited game of Liar’s dice, when the first mate was caught cheating. The captain does not tolerate cheaters on board her vessel and she took the first mate to task. The battle was fierce but quick. Captain Lilith takes no prisoners! “WALK THE PLANK, DAD.”

Rum-flavored candies, caramel, pirate tobacco, sugar cane, and vanilla beans.


When I was younger, my life was one huge, fast merry-go-round of bars and dance clubs but I have found that there is nothing better that a lazy evening of a movie and popcorn with my best friend and her Dog Mom Wednesday.

My life is full of love and my belly is full of popcorn. What could be better?

Popcorn and jelly beans.


Lilith is never going to let me grow old, and why would I want to? Especially when there are muddy puddles just waiting to be splashed in and mom is waiting with a warm mug of chocolate.

I love the rain and my family.

The scent of hot chocolate with marshmallows after a long day of puddle-hopping.


Once upon a time there once was a King and a Princess that both adored books.
Every night they would retire to the royal chambers and read together.
Sometimes they read about castles.
Sometimes they read about superheroes.
They would about read about pigs that could fly, exploding cows, purple crayons, and imaginary friends.
The stories changed, but always they would lie side by side and enjoy each other’s company.
I love my little Princess. I hope we always read stories and make stories together, forever.

Our bedtime scent: French lavender, hops, yarrow, Roman chamomile, and a drop of vanilla.


Sunday mornings are made for the tranquility of a quiet family breakfast.

Totally-not-healthy breakfast cereals, spilled milk, a smushed bit of banana, and the last gloopy bits of latte foam.


Lilith and I have a game where I lie down on her like I’m going to sleep and say, “My pillow is lumpy. What a lumpy pillow.” Then I try to fluff up my pillow. She tries to get away while I yell, “COME BACK PILLOW!”

This photo was taken while we were in Seattle; laughing and giggling is what we do best.

Coffee and junk food room service: a fluffy coffee scent, all pillowy vanilla, caramel, and roasted beans.


Please Join Us For Our September Lunacy Events

2015 September 16
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We invite you to join us for our West Coast, San Francisco Bay Area, and Dirty South Lunacy events this September for your opportunity to purchase the latest scents, and get a sneak preview of what’s coming soon.

The blends available for purchase include those that went live on the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab website up to and including the Scalia and Carnival Diabolique updates (please note that stock may be limited).

Our Lunacy events are held on the night of the full moon and are always free.

The San Francisco Bay Area Lunacy Event will be held on Friday, September 25th from 6 to 8pm at Loved To Death.

Loved To Death
1681 Haight St.
San Francisco, CA 94117

RSVP for the Event on Facebook.

The Dirty South Lunacy Event will be held on Sunday, September 27th from 4 to 7pm at the Microtel Inn and Suites by Wyndham at Perimeter Center

6280 Peachwood Dunwoody Rd
(In the conference/meeting room)
Atlanta, GA 30328

RSVP for the Event on Facebook.

The West Coast Lunacy Event will be held on Sunday, September 27th from 4 to 7pm at Dark Delicacies.

Dark Delicacies
3512 W. Magnolia Blvd
(1 block east of Hollywood Way)
Burbank, CA 91505

RSVP for the Event on Facebook.

Remaining Lunacy Event Dates for 2015

West Coast:
Tuesday, October 27th

Future West Coast, Dirty South, San Francisco Bay Area, and Salem Lunacy Event Dates are TBA

If you have any questions, please email us at

Hope to see you there!

Want to keep up to date on all the BPAL news? Follow us on FacebookTwitterTumblrjoin our mailing list, visit our Forums, or follow our blog The Black Phoenix Gazette.

Enter To Win Three 5ml bottles from Carnaval Diabolique, a collection presented by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab

2015 September 16
Comments Off on Enter To Win Three 5ml bottles from Carnaval Diabolique, a collection presented by Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab


We’ve teamed up with Gothic Beauty Magazine to give away three 5 ml’s from our new Carnaval Diabolique collection.

The contest runs through September 23rd. You can enter here:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Good luck!