idoru

Hmm. This took two wears to get a solid feel for, though I fell for it on the first wear. The "nots": the clove doesn't speak to me of Christmas, nor the spices not of headshop incense. The honey isn't the same too-sweet, milky note from Bengal. This didn't do one of those large changes from wet-to-dry on me, so -- Overall impressions: Dark spicy resins; sharp but smooth and warm. My darling musk, a coppery thread of clove, and vetiver tempered by the sweeter scents, complex and sexy. Perhaps the cherries, poppy -- I get almost the faint smokiness of opium, but not quite -- and wine give the depth and consistent darkness to the scent; it does feel a dark bloody red, even fading. Sultry and very warm; I want to bury my nose in my wrists, the crooks of my elbows.. SEXY. Apparently I need to investigate more dragon's blood scents.

Quick google on stephanotis: "Madegascar jasmine." Much like pikake [Hawaiian jasmine], I find stephanotis to be a gentler [and very slightly greener] jasmine; both are wonderfully wearable, especially compared to traditional conquer-all-other-notes jasmine. Wet: sweet but translucent; a golden-pinkish scent, instead of white or green. Dry: Hothouse orchids with a hint of floral vanilla, just enough stephanotis to give the impression of breezes through an exotic garden. This is definitely sweet, but in a wonderful, balmy, summer-flowers way; feminine, but just mature enough to be either womanly or girlish depending on who's wearing it. "Tropical" without any fruitiness, which is loooovely.

Starts green, but quiets. It's just that, a 'quiet' scent -- almost strikes me as a room with dried lavender or where lavender incense had once been burnt, but without any cloying smoke to it. Very clean and airy. The jasmine barely perks its head up [star jasmine vs. common?], and Beth's black rose blends gently into the lavender, delphinium and spices; a perfectly balanced soothing, musky floral. A 'calm down' or an 'I am grounded' scent. If you've ever been to the cloisters/garden of a [ca. 9th-12th century] monastery or abbey, that's the feeling of centeredness Sophia allows. Oddly, when wet, I get a momentary scent-memory of my mother's Clinique Aromatics Elixir, but that's gone as soon as it dries. - Not a rose scent, if you aren't a rose person. - Not a jasmine scent, if you don't normally do well with jasmine. [This didn't amp on my skin.] - Pleasantly herbal lavender, rather than sweet-sweet, but also not overpowering. Definitely worth a try, even if you shy away from some of the listed notes.

I was fully prepared to love Persephone. And I didn't hate her! I was just remarkably ambivalent. I've worn various rose scents, including straight-up red rose oil from Renaissance festival herbalists, for over ten years. I love pomegranate as a delicious treat when my grocery store has them, or the occasional pomegranate martini. But I'm guessing I don't like fruit notes if they aren't tempered by amber/resin or musk, or something earthier or greener, because on me, simply fruit + sweet or fruit + floral = eh. I felt like a billion roses had been steeped in pomegranate juice, and I was wearing the result. The rose was lovely and pure, and I think I liked the pomegranate, just not together. It was nice, but I usually ended up layering it with something else to give it more character. (I'll be trying other pomegranate scents so I can get an actual feel for Beth's pomegranate.)

Oh lord, SO SWEET. I have a vanilla from L'Occitane (Eau des vanilliers) that is, I believe, based in gardenia. It was one of the first vanilla perfumes I ever LIKED, and it was because it wasn't foodie. So! Vanilla, gardenia, violet? Sounded lovely. For someone else, I'm sure it is. In the bottle, it was OH so sweet, but still a bit green. In drying, the gardenia came out a bit more, but everything sharpened.. and if possible, sweetened even more. I had to wash it off. And, really, I should know better than to play with violets, but I got this one a good while ago, so I DIDN'T know better then. If there were something to darken the scent, it might have worked [on me], but as it is, off to the swaps.

In the bottle: sharp-dark, almost pine. Wet: almost clove, but not Christmassy; smokier, slightly medicinal. I don't seem to have the same skin-hatred of civet that a lot of people do, but nor do I seem to be among the 3% in animalistic lust with it. Dry: "clove" scent backs off, mingles. Dark, dark, luxurious and rich; I see an Oscar Wilde-esque library, all dark mahogany, a men's velvet smoking jacket, pipe smoke, a leather settee. About half an hour in, the "medicinal" bit dissipates enough that I stop feeling like I have diluted Vapo-Rub under my nose (sensation only, not odor). I like the throw much more than I like it close to my skin. :[ Not unpleasant, but not me. Opium den mystique, but I like my scents to be delicious ON my skin as well as wafting.. To the swaps!

Oh, dear. My boyfriend's first words when he hugged me within minutes of my first application of Peitho: "You smell like a Porta-potty!" Thankfully I'm used to his romantic way with words, so I told him to wait a while before smelling me again -- the oils hadn't had time to react with my skin's chemistry, settle, all that. Meanwhile, he backpedaled: "Not like a Porta-potty, exactly. Like the thing they put in the Porta-potty so it doesn't smell like one." Yes, darling, thank you; I knew what you meant the first time. Wet: Strong jasmine, sweet vanilla, faint sandalwood, floral? Apparently also air freshener. *I* didn't get the impression of urinal cake, just that it was strong, heady floral, and seemed to have a hard time finding balance between scents. Dry: The jasmine backed off some, I finally got a little lily; I think the musk is the only think that kept the whole thing from going completely 'off' on me, though. Clove never made an appearance. I do think this could easily be lovely on someone who played well with jasmine-vanilla scents, since the myrtle/lily/clove should keep it from being too heady, and musk grounds it to the skin with that hint of sensuality that I love. However, this one goes to the swaps for me.

A lot of people have found Incantation soapy/masculine. From my notes -- "Clean, bright, unisex. Earlier it smelled like a nice woodsy shampoo [gender-ambiguous leaning toward masculine], and now it smells almost like an expensive aftershave. Would like to smell on the SO." I never got the deep-dark-wispy-smoky. The more I wore it, the more I got the impression of a shampoo at a posh men's salon. It was nice, but definitely not me.. and I never did get around to putting it on the boyfriend.

Aww. I wanted to love this. Unfortunately, Rakshasa was the first scent that taught me that patchouli hates me. In the bottle: sharp rose, sandalwood.. a hint of citrus? Dry: Despite the utter lack of neroli/bergamot/lemon/other citrus notes, I got a strong citrus smell, fading to rose with a little smokiness.. and the throw included this vague, sharp something that wouldn't let my nose be. Oh. Patchouli. My burning nose and eyes thank you. Smoky citrus rose, I could probably wear and enjoy. Neroli-rose-smoke directly into my mucous membranes: SO SAD. In other news, I'm very happy that this works so well on people who get along with patchouli. It sounded so pretty in the description...

Wet: WHOA patchouli, with an afterthought of green. Dry: Warmer, but still 97% patchouli, my nemesis. Less offensive to my nose than I expected, considering. Surprisingly energizing feel, once I got past having my panties in a twist about bein' all patchoulied. I seriously considered keeping the imp for yoga work, but really -- I don't do yoga regularly enough for that. Someone else can love this. Off to the swaps!

When I first tried Aglaea -- many months ago; it's one of my most frequently worn scents -- I had no idea that Beth's musk, amber, and peach notes could do no wrong with my skin chemistry. By sheer chance, one of the first imps I ordered for myself was jaw-droppingly perfect. Notes from very first wear: "peach is the first scent that pops out, but it's like a peach schnapps, with a feel of sunlight to it [possibly the amber]. A couple hours in, it has almost a sandalwood smell, but this is brief. Later, it smells as if my skin is SUPPOSED to smell like peach, and the musk makes it smell like part of my chemistry. The amber comes through, all warm and spicy, over the peach at the end of the day." Current thoughts: so much love, especially having found more things that don't work on me. I'm anxious to try more peach scents, but I adore the mellow peach wine -- how it isn't the typical "peaches and cream" or "peach candy" fruit smell, but darker and richer. No, I no longer detect any sandalwood, but I also don't know what myrtle smells like, so WHO KNOWS. My guess is that the lingering hint of spice is Egyptian amber [faaaaavorite], though I'm glad it doesn't get too cinnamon-y. As much as I love spicy scents, I would hate for Aglaea -- she really does evoke a rich, rose-gold Splendour -- to turn into peach cobbler. Blessedly, she doesn't. The colors of a sunset sky, encapsulated in scent. Amber. Peach. Gold. Splendour. Perfect.

Possibly the exotic spice scent I've been looking for since my introduction to BPAL. I probably know better than to think it's THE one, since each amber, musk, and spice I try keeps amazing me, but it's gorgeous. Seductive (to the senses more than the libido) and wise all at once; the kind of scent that reminds you that the original "1,001 Arabian Nights" had to be edited for, ahem, delicate English readership. In the bottle: surprisingly sharp. Saffron, do I detect cardamom?, my delicious friend musk; spices that speak of incense and starry skies rather than crowded street markets. Drydown: the initial hint of sharpness mellows within the first 30 seconds [?!] to a beautiful, enveloping cloud of spice. It feels strong, but I mean that as "I kept my husband from executing me for a thousand nights by telling him stories" feminine strength, not 'strong scent oof'. Impressions: dry & overall, I absolutely love it, but it doesn't last as long as I'd hoped. Not that I mind reapplying in the least, it's just that slathering would only mean I might kill people around me with my glorious scent for the first 10 minutes I had it on. 5ml list for sure. By the end of the day, faded to a warm hint of saffron.

My jotted, handwritten notes: "sweet, Victorian-smelling, violet-rose." In the bottle: ladylike and refined, expensive (in that Baroque way). Having been to Versailles recently, it made perfect sense. Strong, sweet, balanced blend of tea rose* and violet. *I can usually wear red rose oil better than tea or tudor roses, so.. here goes? Dry: damn. I had high hopes at first. Violet came to the fore, and LORD does she go soapy on me. Tea rose just isn't enough to balance that. Overall: I think I'd really enjoy this one someone whose chemistry didn't mess it up! It expresses the luxury of spoilt royalty, a childlike queen so encapsulated in the court that she'd have no reason to know the country beyond its walls was dying. I can just see an ornate, antique French perfume bottle filled with this.

This is the first lemon scent I've tried, so I had no idea what to expect. I've had it on since about 9a, but reapplied around 11:30p just to make sure this morning's impressions were as I remembered. In the vial: airy and clean, white floral with hints of musk and sweet citrus. Stronger -- and less sunshiny -- than I expected. First half-hour: a slightly feminine version of a light men's aftershave. Almost cloying, in the way recently applied aftershave is, though that could just be how unexpected that particular scent is, coming from me. Not masculine enough that I wanted to scrub it off, not androgynous, just.. perplexing. Feminine enough for me to like it, but I DEFINITELY thought 'aftershave' both this morning and tonight. Possibly the sandalwood etc. common to aftershaves, but I detected no lemon, no vanilla, no bergamot -- on second thought, maybe it's the vanilla/florals making it 'feminine aftershave' for the moment. Mysterious point of change, and from then on: beautiful. The faintest hint of lemon, sandalwood, quiet exotic florals, a bare whisper of vanilla, musk that ties everything together and makes it sing. Puts me in mind of Calypso's island, in the story of Odysseus, for no good reason... Overall impression: not entirely sure what mood it suits (not quite peaceful/idyllic, not quite capricious), but it's lovely -- once I get past the first 30-45 minutes. Had I not reapplied, I'm pretty sure this would still be clinging to my skin in the morning. It's not as sunshiny as I'd expected from the description, but instead it's more like.. watching clouds move across a perfect blue sky, maybe above the ocean. White flowers nodding in the breeze on a sunny day. With a scent like this so close to her skin, Calypso could have kept Odysseus for more years yet.