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West Coast and Dirty South Will Call Events

2014 October 28

This month, we will be hosting our annual food drive at our Los Angeles and Dirty South full moon events!

For every $10 in food that you donate, you will receive a 5ml bottle of:


Weirdly wearable! Brown sugar-glazed sweet potato musk with honeyed ambrette, pulverized pumpkin seed, white oats, toasted cardamom, and sugared clove.

We are offering these oils while supplies last, and cannot guarantee that any Will Call location will be able to fulfill all donation exchanges. We’ll do our best!

The blends that will be available for purchase include those that went live on the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab website up to and including the Halloween updates.

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


The West Coast Will Call event will be held on Thursday, November 6th from 6 to 9pm at Dark Delicacies.

Food donations will support the Burbank Temporary Aid Center.

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


The Dirty South Will Call event will be held Sunday, November 9th from 4 to 7pm at Hammond Park.

Food donations will support the Georgia Mountain Food Bank

705 Hammond Dr.
(In the Community Room located off of Glenridge Rd. NE)
Sandy Springs, Georgia 30328

If you have any questions, please email us at

Remaining Dates for 2014

West Coast Will Call:

Friday, December 5th

Dirty South Will Call


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.

New Dark Delicacies Scents: Pumpkin Lace and Papa Monster

2014 October 21

Two new Dark Delicacies scents have gone live and you can get them now at the Dark Delicacies site for $23 a 5ml.


pumpkin lace


A smoky, dark pumpkin scent, inspired by Victorian Halloween postcard illustrations: a cascade of cobwebby white sandalwood threaded through vanilla bourbon, sharp green cognac, Virginia tobacco, and caramelized sugar, all draped across a freshly carved jack o’lantern.

 papa monster


A growling good time: the scent of grape and red cherry swirl ring pops,
licorice whips, and a touch of vanilla cupcake frosting.

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.

New Lunacy: Insula Ventorum

2014 October 5

This cycle, we’re changing up the Lunacies a bit. From Aries to Aries, we’ll be sailing through the dreamstuff of the lunar mare on a voyage that transverses the surface of Luna by way of your subconscious.

Continuing with Tabula Selenographica’s trip through the lunar landscape, we are thrilled to present:

Peninsula Delioiorum


The Island of Winds: chilled white tea leaf, astringent white musk, and eucalyptus petals biting through ragged osmanthus blossoms, crystallized white amber, and ice-limned cedarwood.


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.

Halloween Has Come To The Black Phoenix Trading Post

2014 October 4

Autumn has touched down at Black Phoenix Trading Post and Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab, though the weather in Los Angeles still hasn’t pulled itself out of Endless Summer Mode. Though it is still in the 100’s here, we’ll be creating our own faux-autumn through our scents!


Illuminate those gloomy evenings with Trading Post’s autumn candle selection —




Pine needles, black pitch, and golden-red pine sap with Oman frankincense, champaca absolute, and styrax.


Belgian chocolate filled with pumpkin butter.


Fallen leaves against a backdrop of myrrh, smoky opoponax, and labdanum.


Literally everything.


Dried pumpkin rind and tobacco absolute.


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.


And if you’d like to really up the ante, atmosphere-wise –




Woodmoke, glowing embers, drifting ash, and the memory of bones.


A brew for the dead: dried chrysanthemum petals, black tea leaf, and black poisonwood bark sweetened with honey.


Black pine and crooked oaks draped with Spanish Moss, dimly lit by flickers of juniper.


Some folk in courts for pleasure sue,
An’ some ransack the theatre:
The airy nymph is won by few;
   She’s of so coy a nature.
She shuns the great bedaub’d with lace,
   Intent on rural jokin
An’ spite o’ breeding, deigns to grace
   A merry Airshire rockin,
Sometimes at night.

At Halloween, when fairy sprites
   Perform their mystic gambols,
When ilka witch her neebour greets,
   On their nocturnal rambles;
When elves at midnight-hour are seen,
   Near hollow caverns sportin,
Then lads an’ lasses aft convene,
   In hopes to ken their fortune,
By freets that night.

At Jennet Reid’s not long ago,
   Was held an annual meeting,
Of lasses fair an’ fine also,
   With charms the most inviting:
Though it was wat, an’ wondrous mirk,
   It stopp’d nae kind intention;
Some sprightly youths, frae Loudon-kirk,
   Did haste to the convention,
Wi’ glee that night.

The nuts upon a clean hearthstane,
   Were plac’d by ane anither,
An’ some gat lads, an’ some gat nane,
   Just as they bleez’d the gither.
Some sullen cooffs refuse to burn;
   Bad luck can ne’er be mended;
But or they a’ had got a turn,
   The pokeful nits was ended
Owre soon that night.

A candle on a stick was hung,
   An’ ti’d up to the kipple:
Ilk lad an’ lass, baith auld an’ young,
   Did try to catch the apple;
Which aft, in spite o’ a’ their care,
    Their furious jaws escaped;
They touch’d it ay, but did nae mair,
    Though greedily they gaped,
Fu’ wide that night.

The dishes then, by joint advice,
    Were plac’d upon the floor;
Some stammer’d on the toom ane thrice,
    In that unlucky hour.
Poor Mall maun to the garret go,
    Nae rays o’ comfort meeting;
Because sae aft she’s answered no,
    She’ll spend her days in greeting,
An’ ilka night.

Poor James sat trembling for his fate;
    He lang had dree’d the worst o’t;
Though they had tugg’d and rugg’d till yet,
    To touch the dish he durst not.
The empty bowl, before his eyes,
    Replete with ills appeared;
No man nor maid could make him rise,
    The consequence he feared
Sae much that night.

– Janet Little

The scent of chatty witches gossiping with neighbors at midnight: ripe red apples, honey mead, poppy seed cakes, a trickle of sweet 7-year aged patchouli, and bundles of dry herbs.


Literally everything.


A smattering of red rose petals scattered atop a pile of yellowing, ancient bones.


The solemn twilight of the year.

When we say we’re going to Pumpkin Spice Everything, we aren’t joking. For your consideration, we present pumpkin’d up eschatology –



Pumpkin-Spicing the Apocalypse: the Pumpkin Patch at the End of All Things.



A furious scent, powerful and scorching, running red with fire and blood: pumpkin with red musk, pimento, red pepper absolute, red  vetiver, rose geranium,  and crushed red poppies.


Grey pumpkin husk and bruised violets blanketed by creeping white mycelium, black mosses, and toxic subterranean mushrooms.


And I looked, and behold a pale gourd: green patchouli and white pumpkin with yew berry, black cypress, white sandalwood, spectral niaouli, eycaluptus petal, and dry white mint.


The scent of fallow fields, faraway conflagrations consuming dry, parched grasses, and crops failing under the relentless heat of a dying sun.


Submerge yourself in the scents of the season –




Pumpkin whipped with milk chocolate syrup and dark chocolate shavings.


White sugar and meringue sprinkled with cacao.


Graham crackery and cream cheesy! Cinnamon brown sugary! This year’s is a bit more carroty! (But not too carroty!)


Pumpkin marshmallows smushed into brown sugar-dusted graham crackers with melted chocolate and a hint of campfire smoke.

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.

And add a touch of the macabre to your mane (fur / scales / horns) –




Smoke-touched and dusky.


Eerie billows of spun sugar, fluttering white cotton, and sheets of cream.


Siste viator.


Literally everything.


Patchouli, aquilaria aguillocha, and Manuka honey.

West Coast and Dirty South Will Call Events, Plus The NYCC Stock List

2014 October 2

Join us for our Lunacy events for your opportunity to meet the lab staff (California only), purchase the latest scents, and get a sneak preview of what’s coming soon.

The blends that will be available for purchase include those that went live on the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab website up to and including the Lacus Mortis update.

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


The West Coast Will Call event will be held on Sunday, October 5th from 4 to 7pm at Dark Delicacies.

Come in costume and get free imps (trick or treat)! Preview Yule (prototypes), Vampire Tears or Pumpkin Hard Candy.

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


We’re holding a Dirty South Will Call event Sunday, October 5th from 5 to 8pm at Hammond Park.

705 Hammond Dr.
(In the Community Room located off of Glenridge Rd. NE)
Sandy Springs, Georgia 30328

Oils available at DSWC include the Lunacy, Weenies, Liliths a smattering of GCs and some yet-to-be-determined Trading Post goodies.

If you have any questions, please email us at

Remaining Will Call Dates for 2014

West Coast:

Thursday, November 6th
Friday, December 5th


NYCC Update:

We will be vending at New York Comic Con on Oct 9 – 12, 2014 at booth #2759

We’ve had so many inquiries about what we’ll have for sale at NYCC that we’ve made a general list of what we’ll be bringing with us.

NYCC 2014 BPAL & BPTP Exclusives
Halloween 2014
Lilith 2014

We’ll also have the following collaborations:

Clive Barker’s “The Forbidden”
The District
The Dark Crystal
Fraggle Rock
Gris Grimly
The Last Unicorn
Neil Gaiman’s:

  • American Gods
  • Anansi Boys
  • Coraline
  • Good Omens
  • The Graveyard Book
  • Lemon-Scented Sticky Bat
  • Neverwhere
  • Stardust

Pretty Deadly
Only Lovers Left Alive

Plus a good number of GC scents, including the RPG scents.

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.


The BPAL Halloween Update Is Live!

2014 September 27


No imp’s ears are available for Limited Edition scents.
Presented in an amber apothecary glass vial.

All limited edition scents are $23!

Last year, we held a pumpkin carving contest; the winning gourds are featured on this year’s Patch labels. A million thanks to everyone that participated! It was an absolute joy sharing in your artistry!


Pumpkin artwork by Amy Kinard!

Pumpkin cream with cardamom, black tea, allspice, and ginger milk.


Pumpkin artwork by Asenath Waite!

Blackened pumpkin with clove, tobacco absolute, aged patchouli, and oakmoss.


Pumpkin artwork by Messy Nessie!

Pumpkin with Atlas cedar, black fig, Laotian benzoin, bourbon vanilla, and copal.


Pumpkin artwork by Neal Segler!

Warm pumpkin with three honeys, oudh, sweet frankincense, and champaca resin.


Pumpkin artwork by Ruby Velez!

Pumpkins, pumpkin vines, and wild mushrooms with white sage, cade, sweetgrass, and vanilla-infused rosewood.



Autumn is my favorite season. Though it harbingers the onset of the death of the year, it rings in a peculiar melancholy, a bittersweet life of its own. The harvest ensures the strength of the community, the leaves fall to give renewed life to the earth, and the winds and wildfires cast away the detritus and make way for new growth.

Autumn is equal parts grief and compassion. It is the soul’s twilight: the dusk of reflection before the solitude of winter.

I don’t remember the last time we had a proper autumn in Los Angeles. I know that sounds melodramatic—I’m a Pisces; we thrive on internal melodrama—but the weather has been so consistently hot for so long that autumn, and certainly winter, seem like a distant memory. I’ve been daydreaming quite a bit about how autumn makes me feel—I miss it so much!—and these daydreams gave birth to seven visions of autumn. I started playing with perfume without the desire to interpret a specific concept other than the drifting idea of Fall: a story in scent without words or images, just a winding path of memory and longing.

White cedar, black pepper, golden amber, bay leaf, and 4-year aged oudh.


Gurjum balsam, rose geranium, opoponax, violet leaf, brown leather accord, and patchouli.


Bourbon vanilla, aged patchouli, honey, and Ceylon cinnamon.


Somalian myrrh, orange blossom, champaca flower, and verbena.


Haitian vetiver, tea leaf, Himalayan cedar, and apricot rind.


Oakmoss, lavender absolute, petitgrain, rockrose, white patchouli, and sage.


Tobacco absolute, myrrh, opoponax, black sandalwood, and black pepper.




Based on a venerable French pontifical incense blend: monastic frankincense and myrrh, Damascus rose, Russian gardenia, cassia, and lily of the valley wafting on a chill Autumn wind. A celebration of the glory and suffering of the saints and martyrs of the Church.


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.


Fermented apple juice, brown sugar, spice, lemon zest, butterscotch liquor, and orange slices.


Autumn — overlooked my Knitting
Dyes — said He — have I
Could disparage a Flamingo
Show Me them — said I

Cochineal — I chose — for deeming
It resemble Thee
And the little Border — Dusker
For resembling Me

For my knitter posse! A warm scent, as delicate as lace and as soft as cashmere, and as cozy as wool, punctuated with red currant for the blazing red of cochineal and surrounded a border of soft grey ambergris and a swirl of autumn leaves.


Devil’s Eve, Devil’s Night, Gate Night, Trick Night, Mischief Night; whatever your name for it might be, the chaos is still the same. Contrary to popular belief, this festival of pandemonium isn’t unique to Detroit. Falling on October 30th, it is an evening of mayhem and destruction. On the gentler side, it may be celebrated by practical jokes, an egging, Ding-Dong-Ditch, or enthusiastic TP’ing of your most hated neighbor’s trees, and on the more violent side, arson and vandalism. This is the scent of autumn night, fires in the distance, with a touch of boozy swoon, playful sugar and thuggish musk.


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


“Why do you wait at your door, woman,
    Alone in the night?”
“I am waiting for one who will come, stranger,
    To show him a light.
He will see me afar on the road
    And be glad at the sight.”

“Have you no fear in your heart, woman,
    To stand there alone?
There is comfort for you and kindly content
    Beside the hearthstone.”
But she answered, “No rest can I have
    Till I welcome my own.”
“Is it far he must travel to-night,
    This man of your heart?”
“Strange lands that I know not and pitiless seas
    Have kept us apart,
And he travels this night to his home
    Without guide, without chart.”

“And has he companions to cheer him?”
    “Aye, many,” she said.
“The candles are lighted, the hearthstones are swept,
    The fires glow red.
We shall welcome them out of the night—
    Our home-coming dead.”

–  Winifred M. Letts

A welcome for the home-coming dead: an incense of dried ivy and maple leaf with honeyed fig, black cypress, and grave dirt.


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.


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.


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.

A vampiric good time. Sexy and suckable: black cherry brandy and a whisper of red wine.

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


(Now in 5ml!)

Alane upon the field she stood,
The tattie-bogle, tall an’ prood.
But certie, she wis smairt an’ braw,
A bonnie lass, tho’ made o’ straw.

Her gowden hair wis made o’ oo.
Her dentie goon when it wis new
Langsyne, hid been the guidwife’s best.
Sae trigly wis the bogle drest!

The beasts they cam’ frae a’ the airts.
(The tod ran tours frae furrin’ pairts.)
They cam’ by day, they cam’ by nicht,
To see a maist byordnar sicht.

An’ craws an sparras by the score,
A wale o’ burds, mair nor afore.
The fermer roared an’ raged aboot.
‘A’ll cast yon tattie-bogle oot!’

Pair tattie-bogle, she wis wae.
‘Eh!’ said the houlet, ‘Whits a dae?’
He flew doon frae the elder tree.
‘Noo, dry yer e’en an’ herk tae me.

‘See, lassie, tak ma guid advice.
There is nae yiss ye bein’ nice.
Can ye nae glower an’ skreich an’ a’
Tae sen’ thae cooardie burds awa’?’

The bogle grat nae mair: instead
‘A’m much obleeged tae ye,’ she said
‘Ma voice is lood – jist like the craik!’
‘Then sing,’ he said, ‘ for ony sake!’

It chilled the verra bluid tae hear
The bogle’s sang : frae far an’ near
The burds rose up, a’ frichtit sair
An’ nivver cam back ony mair.

Sae should ye pass at skreich o’ day
Alang the road frae Auchenblae,
An’ hear a strange uncanny soun,
That scares the burds for miles aroon,

A soon like pincils on a sclate,
Be on yer way an’ dinna wait.
Ye can be shair as onything
Ye’ve heard the tattie-bogle sing.

Hay, gunpowder, patchouli, a sliver of bark, autumn herbs, and sun-baked wood.


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.


A fair witch crept to a young man’s side,
And he kiss’d her and took her for his bride.

But a Shape came in at the dead of night,
And fill’d the room with snowy light.

And he saw how in his arms there lay
A thing more frightful than mouth may say.

And he rose in haste, and follow’d the Shape
Till morning crown’d an eastern cape.

And he girded himself, and follow’d still
When sunset sainted the western hill.

But, mocking and thwarting, clung to his side,
Weary day!—the foul Witch-Bride.

(Aw, c’mon, Allingham. Foul is a pretty strong choice of words, dontcha think?)

Pale and lovely, with eyes belladonna-wide: hemlock blossoms and ghostly nightshade veiled by wisteria, white frankincense, black amber, and narcissus resin.



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








BPAL and BPTP NYCC 2014 Exclusives

2014 September 25

We will be vending at New York Comic Con on Oct 9 – 12, 2014 at booth #2759/#2761.

Here’s the list of our exclusives this year:



But one pale woman all alone,
The daylight kissing her wan hair,
Loitered beneath the gas lamps’ flare,
With lips of flame and heart of stone.

There are a few false origin stories regarding New York’s nickname, “the Big Apple”, including a rumor that the expression was inspired by a 19th century New York madam named Eve. While that tale is false, it sure does tie in well with our brothel-themed offerings!


Apple and white mint layered with tobacco flower, pink pepper, white jasmine, bourbon vanilla, orange blossom, and champaca flower.


White pear, honeyed apple, ambrette seed, star anise, and a drop of clove.


Glistening red apple and a drift of dark, smoky black copal, saffron, galbanum, sweet orange rind, and myrrh.


Red musk and red apple with bourbon vanilla, tobacco absolute, Indonesian red patchouli, black clove, and khus.


Nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice.

The visitor, on passing the doors, finds himself in a spacious room, the fittings of which are of the most costly description, while brilliant gas illuminations, reflected by numerous mirrors, impart a fairy-like aspect to the scene. The company is, of course, mixed. Many of the men resorting to such places seek no doubt the opportunity of indulging their vicious propensities; but the majority of the better class go merely to while away an idle hour.

(All grammatical and spelling deviancies within are sic erat scriptum.)


No, 127 W. 26th street is a ladies boarding house of the second class, kept by Madame Buemont. There is a report of a bear being kept in the cellar, but what reason may be inferred. There is nothing else attractive about this place.

Whiskey, tobacco, and incensed bear musk.


The establishment No. 66 West Houston St is conducted by the fun loving Mrs. Emma Marsh, whose stock of good humor is inexhaustible. She has six lady boarders, who do credit to her taste, and receive the encomiums of the most fastidious admirers of feminine loveliness.

Vanilla-infused jasmine with honey, Bulgarian rose, white frankincense, and a cascade of lush gardenia blossoms.


No. 104 West 27th St. This house is kept by Miss Maggie Pierce, (better known as Little Maggie of 30 12th St.) The house is well furnished, and fitted up in elegant style. The landlady is good-looking and very entertaining. She has 7 young lady boarders of pleasing manners and ready wit. This is a first class house and is very quiet and orderly.

Tahitian vanilla flower and white sandalwood with honeyed patchouli, cacao, and mallow flower.


House at 36 West Fifteenth Street. There are six lady boarders. The landlady is of a very selfish disposition, and the servants are very disagreeable to visitors.

A dark scent, sultry but sullen: tobacco absolute, birch tar, blackened clove, whip leather, and spiced rum.

All limited edition oils are $24.



On the opposite side there are three more concert saloons, which are conducted in a quiet and an orderly manner. They are called  “The Dew Drop Inn” “Eureka” and “Palace Garden”.

A quiet and orderly concert saloon: sweet rum with two spoonfuls of cream.


#105 West Twenty-fifth Street is kept by Mrs. Woods, better known among the aristocracy as Hotel de Wood. This is a 3 story brown stone house, furnished throughout with the most costly and newest improvements. Her gallery of oil paintings alone cost $10,000. Rosewood furniture, immense mirrors, Parisian figures etc. The house is furnished at the cost of $70,000. She keeps three young ladies of rare personal attractions, and her house receives gentlemen from foreign countries. This is the best house in 25th st.

Oiled leather, a splash of bay rum and Italian bergamot, rose water, patchouli, and black tea.


The Tammany Free and Easy is kept next door, No. 27, where nightly concerts are given, and fun and frolic prevail.

Crisp, effervescent champagne bubbles drifting over a cluster of white carnations.






The New Lilith Update Plus Mr. Skelly and Hellboy’s Hand Of Doom

2014 September 24
by black phoenix


The Black Phoenix Trading Post update is live, with new blends for Lilith and treasures to hold them.



A Moment in Time

Quiet moments with Lilith mean so much to me.

Nothing compares to the joy of watching her as she experiences things for the first time, and I’m grateful to be part of it.

A tranquil scent, illuminated by joy and warm with the serenity of love: bourbon vanilla and soft sandalwood with tiare, white fig, sweet benzoin, guiac wood, French lavender, and a touch of warm patchouli.

A Stroll Through the Quarter

People are always asking me, “Why do you carry Lilith on your shoulders all the time?”

My answer is… simply because I love her. Someday she won’t want me to pick her up, and it will break my heart. “Pick me up, daddy!” will always be answered with a yes.

Incense smoke drifting out from the basilica mingling with oleander, just-flamed bananas foster, and a splash of Dorian.


Captain Lilith and her First Mate

Our boots and clothes are all in pawn!

Go down ye blood red roses, go down!

A Little Pirate’s indulgence: rum cupcakes and vanilla ice cream with a hot toddy.


Flying Kites

Every summer is the best summer ever when I’m with Lilith. She’s my little wildflower.
Running barefoot in the grass.

Flying a kite with Lilith.

Being a dad.

Life is good.

Crushed grass, sweet pine sap, and California wildflowers.


Mornings in New Orleans

I love early morning walking with Lilith and showing her my favorite city in the entire world.

Hearing the horse carriages drive past.

Riding the trolley cars.

Eating breakfast at the Camellia Grill, where the staff knows her by name.

Eating beignets and getting powdered sugar all over us while we watch the Mississippi river flow by.

Just another perfect morning in New Orleans.

The scent of chicory coffee (au lait!) and sugared pastries.


Playing Tag in a Garden Full of Gods

The Gods might be pleased to know that Lilith and I use their garden for a rousing game of tag.

Jasmine tea with gardenia, white roses, Egyptian tuberose, and bergamot.


Pralines and Powdered Sugar

Where does Lilith get her sense of humor?

Praline ice cream and beignet dust.


New Statuary: Mr. Skelly and Hellboy

Mr. Skelly Wall Plague

The cheerful Mr. Skelly is a stout wall plaque, crafted to be hung in a place of honor in your home, office, temple, abbatoir, or crypt.

He was conceived , designed, sculpted, and produced in North America by the talented people (and cats!) at Great Beard. This skelly plaque was created by Great Beard for Black Phoenix Trading Post, and cannot be found anywhere else in any of the nine realms.

Hellboy’s Hand Of Doom

This sculpture was inspired by Eisner-award winning Mike Mignola’s Hellboy. The hand of Doom was crafted to hold one bottle of your favorite BPAL oil.

It stands 5 ¼ inches tall and weighs 2oz.

Mike is a fantastic artist and storyteller, and we’re honored to work with him! A huge thanks to Mike and Christine Mignola for giving us the opportunity to create scents and sculptures based on the Hellboy universe!

Want to keep up to date on all the BPAL  and BPTP news? Follow us on Facebook,  Twitter,  Tumblr,  join our mailing list, visit our Forums, or follow our blog The Black Phoenix Gazette.

Lilith 2014: Princesses, Ghosts & Superheroes

2014 September 16
by black phoenix

The first Lil-inspired scent went live when I went into labor, and since that moment, she has been my little muse.

Happy sixth birthday, daughter. I love you. Thank you for the privilege of chronicling our life together through scent.

++The scent series will come down November 8th




Lilith, Ted, and I were playing dress up one night, and during her snack break in the kitchen, it occurred to me that she – and the whole accidental tableau – reminded me strongly (and strangely) of Georges de la Tour’s Penitent Magdalene.

So, of course, Ted and I threw together an impromptu 30-second staging with junk lying around the house and took a photo.

Learning art history through role playing and silly photo shenanigans!

Candle wax, smoke, red sandalwood, a dusting of kitchen spices, and a dribble of vanilla ice cream.




“We’ll be friends forever, won’t we, Pooh?” asked Piglet.

“Even longer,” Pooh answered.

A tribute to true friendship, and love that transcends distance and time: white sage and chaparral with sweet cedar, caramelized honey, warm fig, and carnation blossoms.




In hindsight, it was something of an omen that Lilith would be born on Brian’s birthday. He was with her on the day of her birth, and I have no doubt that they will love each other eternally. Yes, they are family, but he is also her friend: her pillar of support, her precious uncle, dearer to her heart than he could possibly know.

I created this scent as much for Brian as I did for Lilith; it is the scent of the summer that lives in one’s heart. Orange blossom honey, white coconut, and pear with flecks of golden amber that glimmers like sunlight on water.




I wanted to go with a less-literal name for this scent, but Lilith vetoed me! My little monster is a tremendous help around the garden. She helps me water, plant, and deadhead the flowers, but by far… harvesting is her favorite chore.

Sun-warmed, slightly squishy blueberries plus overgrown grass, overgrown honeysuckle, overgrown lavender, overgrown lemon verbena, and a smattering of un-pulled weeds.




Last year, Lilith visited Lafayette Cemetery No. 1 in the Garden District with us. As she walked among the vaults and tombs, she announced to us, “When I get older, I’m going to help ghosts fix their houses.”

Marble, wild grasses, rusted iron, white clover, coneflowers, and daisies filtered through a sepulchral mist.




This one – name, scent, and photo selection – is entirely Lilith’s. She wanted this scent to smell like “how friendship feels when you’re hanging out in the grass.” Per Lilith’s description: “wet grass and sunshine, dogs and wood, and my feet in warm dirt and flowers I pick.”




Lilith named this one, and I think it’s absolutely perfect.

I know I’ve told this story before, but the kindness behind it means so much to me that you’re all going to have to bear with me while I tell it again. The privilege of being the narrator!

While we were at Lafayette Cemetery this spring, Lilith discovered all the beads, toys, and trinkets that people leave on the crypts. As she wandered through the cemetery grounds, she arranged the beads that she found into hearts and pillaged my purse (and Ted’s pockets!) for change and small items she could leave for the ghosts. She told me that people leave things like this for their ghost friends so that the spirits know that their “people friends” are thinking about them, and so they won’t be lonely while they wait for more people to come visit them. Lilith and I still talk about the ghost friends she met in New Orleans that day. Evidently, some of them have taken up residence in my basement and behind our bar because she couldn’t bear to leave them behind. The more the merrier, right?

Friendship beyond death. The scent of ghostly companionship, and imaginary friends that might not be quite so imaginary: oleander and frankincense with white rose, soft carnation, spectral white musk, and velvety magnolia.




Let the woman be girt with a sword before me: the many-throned, many-minded, many-wiled, daughter of Zeus.

Red and white roses, everblooming gardenia, violet leaf, Oman frankincense, styrax, honey myrtle, mallow flower.




Lilith named this scent, and said this perfume should smell like witches. Her interpretation is swathed in anise, lime, almond, and witchin’ herbs, and holds a bouquet of pale, graceful lilies. The end result is a sweet, nutty absinthe’d lime with a hint of spice and leather.




Peter was not with them for the moment, and they felt rather lonely up there by themselves. He could go so much faster than they that he would suddenly shoot out of sight, to have some adventure in which they had no share.

He would come down laughing over something fearfully funny he had been saying to a star, but he had already forgotten what it was, or he would come up with mermaid scales still sticking to him, and yet not be able to to say for certain what had been happening.

It was really rather irritating to children who had never seen a mermaid.
― JM Barrie, Peter Pan

Lilith, I hope you never stop seeing mermaids. I hope your invisible friends always sing with you, and that the ghosts in your attic tell you stories every night. I hope you never forget how to dream, and I hope you never forget why dreams matter.

A tiny siren’s perfume of pink seaweed, lotus petals, Tahitian tiare, white gardenia, orange blossom, sea salt, and vanilla-infused benzoin.




Salutations to the supreme Lord Ganesh, whose curved trunk  and massive body  shines like a million suns  and showers his blessings on everyone. Oh my lord of lords, Ganesha, kindly remove all obstacles, always and forever from all my activities and endeavors.

Lilith’s favorite deity – by far – is Ganesha, inspired by her kindergarten teacher and the works of Sanjay Patel. Her meditation technique, however, is as much a product of her Mom & Me practice at home as her enthusiastic love of Teen Titans. I’d attempted to persuade Lilith to meditate with me many times, but she didn’t have much of an interest in doing so until she started watching Teen Titans again in earnest. Kindergarten was a challenging transition year for her, and meditation was something she employed often to cope with the stress. I tried to encourage her to chant a variety of mantras, and she used many of Ganesha’s, but her go to was always Azarath Metreon Zinthos.

So, thank you, DC Comics, Sanjay Patel, and (especially) Ganesha, for helping give my daughter tools to help her through rough days.

This is a meditation blend that I created for Lilith: sweet frankincense, Mysore sandalwood, and a few drops of rose and clary sage.




Sometimes when I look at my daughter, I feel like I can see the woman that she’ll become someday. This is a perfume for that woman, forever my daughter: frankincense, sweet myrrh, bourbon vanilla, and a hint of willowy, pale fougere.




A few weeks before DragonCon this year, I took ill with a persistent, irritating, gooey flu. To cheer up me up, my crazy, wonderful daughter and her crazy, wonderful dad threw me a surprise party. They decorated Lilith’s room, baked me a cake in the Easy Bake Oven (it tasted very pink), and brought me little gifts, including a ridiculously pink lipstick, some balloons and noisemakers, and a bottle of OxyClean. (Long story.)

This perfume captures the ridiculously pink scent of that ridiculously pink cake. I love my family.


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Lacus Solitudinis Brick and Mortar Lunacy Will Call Dates

2014 August 31

Peninsula Delioiorum

Join us for our Lunacy event for your opportunity to meet the lab staff (California only), purchase the latest scents, and get a sneak preview of what’s coming soon.

The blends that will be available for purchase include those that went live on the Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab website up to and including the Lacus Solitudinis update.

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

The West Coast Will Call event will be held on Tuesday, September 9th from 6 to 9pm at Dark Delicacies.

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

If you have any questions, please email us at

Hope to see you there!

Remaining Will Call Dates for 2014

West Coast:

Sunday, October 5th
Thursday, November 6th
Friday, December 5th

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