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Scent Notes: A black, mossy, wet bog, dripping with fungi. Subtle brushes of artemisia, Atlas cedar, carrot seed, and labdanum. A hint of animalic musk.
You’re over society’s impossible standards. Why are women and femmes supposed to always be sexy, impossibly skinny and busty at the same time, while being able to eat a whole pizza and drink a gallon of beer without gaining an ounce? Nonsense! That’s why you’ve given up on societal standards of what is beautiful and conventional, and turned into your true bog witch form.
Is the outfit you’re wearing out in public dirty and/or unflattering? Who cares? And who determines what is flattering, anyway? Is your hair full of leaves and twigs from your nap in the muddy forest next to your house earlier this morning? Probably! Do you spend most of your time either out in nature alone or shut up inside your house alone? Do small children run away when they see you coming because they’re frightened? Yes, and that’s the way you like it. Society might label you as a weird outcast, and perhaps that’s true, but you are happiest this way, and that’s really all that matters. Shucking off the weight of society’s expectations has been incredibly liberating for your body and soul in equal measure. Kids love your refreshing honesty and the way you refuse to talk down to them. That is, once they get past the scary outward appearance (see the aforementioned little children running away). You’ve formed a coven of other like-minded humans who have just rejected outright the very notion of “civilized” society, but as you’re all wary of interacting with other humans often, you see them sparingly. You moved your tiny house deep into the forest, on the edge of a swamp, the closest you could get to a bog where you live. You spend most of your time barefoot in the mud, hanging out with nature, trying to catch frogs and toads to keep as pets. “This is it,” you think to yourself. “The true person I was meant to be. A bog witch who gives no fucks.”
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