Brand: Wylde Ivy
Sinisterly sweet, warm, and sultry. Notes of smoked vanilla pods splashed with bourbon, amber resin smothered with caramelized sugar, pomegranate soaked orchid petals, and spicy pink peppercorns all wrapped in a thin veil of delicate musk.
Fans of It’s My Party Bad Girl Edition will enjoy this darker, slightly less sweet scent.
*****Story My Scent Contest Winner submission by Elizabeth from CA*****
Staring at the terracotta tiles filled with cracks and stains in her kitchen, Antonia pondered over the last few months, and wondered how she had ever managed to handle any of this.
The loss of her husband left a hole in her heart so deeply carved and hollow, she wondered if she would ever feel her whole self again. Her three children were too young, too sweet to understand that he really wasn’t going to come back up through the dry, cracked earth to join his family again.
Today marked Dia de Los Muertos, Day of the Dead, and the children had been waiting for an opportunity to visit the grave of their father. In the early morning light, they scrambled out of their beds and into the kitchen, one after the other, pushing forward towards their mother and the air-dried sugar skulls they had made the day before. Between their fingers, the soft meringue powder and crystals of sugar felt like cool, wet sand sifted through the oceans of tears they had poured out over the last few months after their father’s passing. They packed the sugar tight into their molds, and exhausted from the effort had fallen into their beds that night, letting the skulls get hard.
Antonia let her children stick their fingers into the icing to taste it before they began their favorite part: decorating. Some of them had saved feathers from outside, beads from old necklaces, and foil from candy wrappers all year round to bring color to the skulls. They furnished crowns, and stuck bottle caps into the sides for ears, but nothing could stop them from licking up all the icing from their fingers as they finger painted. The kitchen was filled with the smell of warm, sultry sugar.
They laid the skulls one by one next to the inscription carved out on the gravestone of their father, Julian Morillo. Antonia let them play out on the grass in the field, leaving the graves behind as she walked. But before leaving, turned around one more time to breathe in the warm vanilla sugar emanating off the heated skulls. She looked down at the skulls and gasped. Tears sprang to her eyes as she covered her mouth in disbelief.
The skulls had been bit into with a large, open bite on the top of each head. Antonio could not believe it. Did the dead hunger after death? Could Julian really have eaten up their gifts to him? She shook her head and breathed in raggedly.
Not so far off from the others, her youngest, Abella, rubbed her sticky hands on the grass and used her sleeve to wipe off all the sugar that was encrusted around her mouth. She finished chewing her last piece, and swallowed with a gulp. She couldn’t wait till next November, when she could make sugar skulls for daddy, and eat them again for him, too.