Malista

The Antikythera Mechanism is one of my very favorite artifacts in the world. I love all the shows that are cropping up now with the folks who have tried to reconstruct it. Looking at even the most complete looking reconstructions, let alone the views I have seen of the original, “vanilla” isn’t something that springs to my mind, and I’m not sure about the tobacco, either, but I totally get the woods. Anyway, an imp, at least, was a given when this was introduced. Generally this is a warm, golden brown blend from start to finish. Teak and oak are my two favorite wood notes and they really work in this blend, both restraining and supporting/presenting the vanilla and tobacco, both of which can be rather thick and dessert-like on me. This, while certainly a robust blend, isn’t as solid and heavy as I rather expected it to be, given the named notes. The woods dry it out a bit and keep it afloat. The dry down is long lasting, with not a lot of throw; a warm, smoky vanilla with dryer wood notes surrounding it. Comfortable, calm, stable, and gender neutral with a slight list to the masculine. I really, really like it. This may end up as a bottle. We’ll see how often I reach for the imp.

I love Beth’s salty aquatics in a way that just ain’t right. Whether any particular blend works with my chemistry depends entirely on the other notes. I didn’t have any hesitation in picking up a bottle of Moana, as there wasn’t anything listed that has given me problems before. I’m always happy to add another oceanic blend to the collection. Wet on skin: gray-green salty aquatic with sweet ginger blossom and smooth, greenish gold seaweed, which doesn’t smell as much of iodine as kelp, so I’m not sure what sort it might be, but I like it. Yum! Drying and dry: less salty, and the awahpuhi and seaweed combine to make something almost fruity but not overly sweet; there is still enough of the ocean in this to make me very, very happy. I smell like I went for a swim, then for a long walk in the jungle, where growing things brushed up against me and left subtle perfume. More yum! There isn't a lot of throw, and it doesn't seem as though it's going to be a long lasting blend (I've had it on for maybe an hour and half, and it's fading fast), but it may get stronger if I let it sit and marry for a few days or weeks. I love perfumes that make me smell as though I’ve just come in from somewhere.

... Mugwort and bay, for psychic sensitivity... Juniper, for divination through dreams... Orchid and galbanum, for complexity, wisdom and noscere... with a potent lunar-charged blend of exquisite Asian woods, moonflower, Madagascan ylang ylang, Florentine iris, Greek cypress, davana, green tea absolute, palmarosa, cucumber, Clary sage, melilot trefoils, wood aloes, and pale creeping buttercup. At the risk of sounding like a heretic, I liked the original Blue Moon (of which I have and make use of a few decants), but the 2007 version is a Love! For me. 2004’s version is very sweet (cucumber as melon is the dominant note on my skin) and a little minty, very aquatic and potentially magical, but also verging on Meh with my chemistry. I tend to think of it as ritual oil rather than something I reach for when I just want to smell nice. The 2007 version has more “zing” with my chemistry, a little less sweet and a little more astringent, which I usually like. I think it may partly be the juniper and cypress that are adding the astringency, and I love Beth’s cypress note. It still smells chock full of magical potential, but it also smells more like a perfume I would wear on any given day, and I have worn it a lot since I got it. In any case, it doesn’t do a lot of morphing on me, and it’s so well blended I really can’t pick out individual notes; or perhaps I’m just not inclined to try, because I love the overall effect of something coolly greeny-blue, faintly sweet without being cloying, a little astringent without being acidic, and with enough complexity and depth that I enjoy catching wafts of it throughout the day and reacquainting myself with how I am smelling. It doesn’t have a lot of throw, so it’s office safe, and the wear length on me is a few hours – maybe three or four before I feel like I want to reapply, which is fairly typical of perfumes, with my chemistry. It has joined Undertow and Selkie in my aquatic and comforting scents of choice group. ETA to add Lab description for start of new page.

I wish I got grass and herbs from this; I was sort of counting on the green notes, really. Unfortunately, it smells as though the dragons blood musk might be based on red musk, which makes Allison Gross nearly as gross on me as this year's Red Moon. Two wash-offs in one order. ETA: I took the new oils to work, and my thoroughly enabled boss really liked Allison Gross, so I gave it to her. I love when that happens and I don't feel I have to go to any great lengths to pass along/get rid of things that Seriously Don't Work on me! All's well that end's well.

The original Red Moon comes as close to being the perfect perfume as I have ever encountered. This is all red musk all the time. I can't even smell the other notes. Unfortunately, red musk often makes me smell as though I died two weeks ago. I'm sorry -- this is just disgusting, and I think my heart is broken.

This is an intensely intimate scent, but I don't find it faint on my skin, just subtle. Like the painting, it is golden and quiet, calm and unintrusive, but sensual and full of light, as well. First off I get the cream, rose (truly a yellow rose) and mandarin, followed closely by the honeycomb and other flowers, and finally by the amber (always late to show up on my skin, but last to leave). At some indeterminate point the musk reveals itself as the gentle unifier for the whole blend, which is a job Beth's skin musk always does superbly. The throw is slight (maybe 4 inches from my wrist; might be stronger if I was wearing it in a warmer, more protected place like the back of my neck or in my decolletage) and subtle - mostly cream, rose and honeysuckle with a bit of honeycomb. Closer to my skin the amber and musk chime in. The mandarin is short-lived on my skin, as most citrus notes are, but there is a lingering, if faint, influence, I think, and the other flowers weave in and out. This is a scent for wearing while being nuzzled, without overwhelming the nuzzler. When I place my order I will likely get two bottles; one to make a dry oil/body oil spray from, the other to wear at perfume strength. If my husband doesn't like it, I'll take myself out on a date.

If it weren't for my skin's extremely unfortunate reaction to the BPAL pomegranate note I think this would be one of my favorite BPAL blends of all time. Alas, the pom casts a bitter/sour pall over the flowers and incense, and even patchouli can't smooth everything out. I can smell everything being fabulous under the pom, and at dry down it actually gets to that herbal-floral-incense place I love, but I don't like the wet and early dry down stages well enough to put up with them for a bottle's worth of wear. I think it's a beautiful interpretation of the painting; I don't think Beth put a note wrong. I just wish my chemistry were a little more accomodating.

Just wanted to add the publisher's Web site info, and note that all of Arctander's books are now available on CD-ROM for easy searching. At a price, of course.

The evening of the 24th and the 25th I wore Lick It Again because it has no throw on me and doesn't trigger Lil Sis's asthma -- at least, it hasn't yet. For the Solstice (the 22nd) I wore Yule, of course. The week previous it was a mix of Midwinter's Eve and Yuletide 2005. New Year's isn't a Going Out night for us, and I plan to do a fair amount of cleansing and setting some energy paths (I don't do resolutions, per se, but I like to think about and make intentions for directions I want to head in, at least initially), so it will be a TAL related night. No perfume, but White Light, and two or three other TALs used in meditation with oil warmers or candles. We have an annual 12th Night party we go to, and last year I departed the realms of BPAL and wore DSH's Bois du Chocolat and Creamy Chocolate, layered (and got more compliments than I have ever had with BPAL). This year, though, I think I'll go with Tintagel, if I don't decide to go all comfortable with Sugar Cookie or Gingerbread Poppet 2005.

Mainstream commercial perfumes are almost all made entirely of synthetic scenting agents these days. I am very sensitive to a lot of synthetic scenting agents. I get burning eyes and sinuses, scratchy throat and laryngitis, sneezing and congestion, etc. Many synthetics will also trigger my asthma. It doesn’t matter whether they are in alcohol or not. Scented candles, perfume oils made with synthetics, air fresheners, wax tarts, incense, soap, shampoo – it really doesn’t matter what the delivery system is; they often make me sick to one degree or another, and it doesn’t matter whether I can smell them or not. If it’s a trigger, it’s a trigger, and I don’t think it’s the scent; that’s more like an early warning system. I think it’s the chemical composition of whatever the triggering substance is. Many fewer natural scenting agents will cause sensitive reactions in me. Some still do (I have a problem with some of Beth’s aquatics, and something in Absinthe brings on full-blown asthma), but in general I’m much better with natural perfumes (not just BPAL), whether they have alcohol in them or not, so my conclusion is that it’s the scented stuff itself that is the problem, not the alcohol.

Punkie Night I’m surprised more people aren’t mentioning the wood note in this blend. It’s very strong on me; in fact, I think it’s the base of the blend. So, I’m guessing this is apple wood, since Beth mentions an apple orchard in her description. On me, I get a lovely wet hit of cool apple and apple peel (that nice bitter-herbal scent that apple peels have), not too sweet, followed by the tartness of cranberries and the warmth and dry sweetness of the wood, then just a dash of spice and the lovely fermented warmth of apple cider in the barrel. All this is blended in a delightful way, making a round, opaque blend with no sharp edges; the cranberries seem to have disappeared, or maybe they just blended into the apples; an apple orchard and lightly spiced hard cider with maybe a few cranberries tossed in and heated until they burst with little fizzing “pop”s. It lingers for several hours everywhere but on my wrists, where it needs frequent reapplication. Six hours after applying I still get the occasional appley/woody waft of Punkie Night from where my cleavage would be if I wore more formidable underpinnings, though. The throw is fairly strong at first; I need to remember to put this on half an hour before I leave the house when I’m going to be taking public transportation anywhere. It settles down eventually, though to low-moderate throw. Undoubetly this would make a great room scent. I also like wandering around in my own little cloud of apples and apple wood, though. Makes me smell like I was out picking apples and cutting back deadwood for kindling before I went into the office.

I have about 3 seconds to enjoy the spices, fruit and wood in Winter of Our Discontent, at which point the myrrh wells up and floods every other note out of existence. Since myrrh is bitter and nasty on me, this is not a good thing. I hoped the other notes (all of them good on me, many of them quite strong) would overpower the myrrh in this blend, but alas, it was not to be.

I’m surprised I haven’t posted a review of Tzadikim Nistarim yet. It’s my guaranteed-to-lower-my-blood-pressure blend, and one of my rotating sleep blends. This and TAL’s White Light are the two best spikenard blends I have ever run across. Spikenard is a complex scent – I have a small amount of pure spikenard oil, and it’s amazing all by itself. I can understand why it has been loved and used for both sacred and secular purposes for more than 2000 years. Most of the fruit and the deep, thick sweetness y’all are smelling is the spikenard (olive may add some fruitiness as well, but the sweet fruits are part of how spikenard smells). That said, it’s soooooo sweet that blending it with the olive, sweet-herbal hyssop, spicy-incensy frankincense and very green, slightly gingery galangal was the perfect way to go. Considering that only the spikenard and the hyssop could be considered as florals, it’s surprisingly floral on, but not a classic floral bouquet type scent; it goes deeper. And that is how TN presents on my skin; perfectly balanced, sweet but not cloying, uplifting but not insipid. It smells, to me, ancient, clean, and relaxing. If Spiritual Purity has a scent, I can very well believe that this is it. It’s certainly the nearest I will ever come to emitting the Odor of Sanctity. Its effects are very similar to those of White Light, on me; I put it on (a little goes a very long way; this is a scent one wears like a halo) and feel the sharp edges rounding, and the rough bits smoothing out. I’m not kidding about lowering my blood pressure. It’s the only non-TAL oil I consciously use to mood alter. That it smells so gorgeous is a huge bonus.

In the bottle and on my skin all I smell is cardamom. Raspy, dry and overwhelming, just as happened with Alone. Given the usual rambunctiousness of the other notes, that is just plain bizarre, but there you have it. If I hadn't had the same problem with Alone I'd almost say that whoever mixed this batch reached for the cassis and picked up the cassia by mistake, because this is just pungent dry spice overwhelm, here. I'll let it mix and marry for a bit and see if any of the other notes come out, but my experience with Alone, again, suggests that once cardamom has taken over a blend it doesn't let go or mellow with age. Apparently I am one of those people who need blends with only the barest amount of cardamom, or it's all I can smell.

Pumpkin Path #4 I find Beth’s pumpkin to be a fascinating base note, pretty much neutral, but deep and complex all on its own (which makes sense; it pretty much has to be a bouquet, as amber is), if somewhat opaque; the olfactory equivalent of “solid,” which can be a little overwhelming sometimes. The notes it is paired with make or break the blend, of course, but pumpkin, in Beth’s hands, is a beautiful finish. PP#4 starts out with the pumpkin top notes; a little squashy, but also a little spicy and a little green. The orris, in its Iris incarnation (as opposed to its drier personality), adds a high, very sweet, very fresh and clear note, cool in contrast to the warmth of the pumpkin. Sandalwood, another cool note but softer and almost creamy, just eases into the blend after awhile and takes over, along with the deeper notes of the pumpkin, after the orris has faded. Sandalwood and pumpkin are natural partners, it seems. The dry out is a wonderful, calm, warm scent, kitcheny but not foody, if that makes sense. Squash heaped on a sandalwood platter, not yet ready for the pot. Maybe some freshly ground nutmeg in a bowl off to the side. Autumn sunlight slanting through the window, lighting the scene like a classic still life painting. This is the contemplative, esthetic side of autumn indoors. I love it. This blend has moderate throw for at least 4 hours on my skin, and lingers as more of a skin scent for several hours more. I love the orris top note enough to reapply during the day, but have to be careful of how much I put on, as initially it's very strong.

Just thought I'd bump this to point out that as of today, if you are traveling by air in North America or the UK (that I know of -- there are likely more places adding the restriction) you will need to put your BPAL in your checked luggage, as security will not allow anything liquid beyond the checkpoint. I would hate to see anyone forced to throw away a treasured LE because of sudden changes in security measures.

I like sort of herbal/woodsy scents for room scents. Some of my favorites are Arcana, Silk Road, Dublin and Holiday Moon (actually, any of the Asian-inspired moons would likely work well, as bamboo and tea work beautifully as environmental scents). I also use The Dormouse as a room and linen spray, sometimes. I haven't tried it in the burner (I put some soy wax flakes and a few drops of oil in the burner - lasts for hours and the crock is easy to clean). In the bedroom I use Quietude quite often on work nights when we really need to sleep -- the lavender doesn't set of Himself's allergies, and I love the tranquility of the scent. I also agree with Ivyandpeony's suggestions. Oh, and I'm seriously thinking of picking up a spare bottle or two of Et Lux Fuit to use as environmental scent. It isn't heavy, and while it isn't particularly fresh and clean in the way citrus and tea scents are, it's one of the cheeriest, sunniest scents I have ever encountered. I suspect it could elevate the mood of a room in no time.

LXXII (72) In the bottle, this smells like mixed plums and raspberries. Nice! On, it quickly becomes strawberry/raspberry cupcakes (white cake with bits of dried berry in the batter), then shifts into something with more spice, and a bit of incense – I’m thinking galbanum, maybe, which is sort of gingery and resinous and a little woody, too. There’s still a bit of cake, and the berries remain a constant through the life of this scent. The dry down into the fade (which takes a few hours) becomes more and more like raspberry puree (fresh berries, no sugar added) swirled into clotted cream. It gets sweeter (but never cloying) and creamier, with a faint nutmeggy/gingery note lingering. There’s maybe a slight floral note in the throw, as well, but I can’t put a name to it. There’s something vaguely Chaste Moonish about the effect after I’ve had it on for an hour or two. The throw on this blend is amazing! I took the bottle in to work so my boss could try it (she’s enabled, although she just adds her orders to mine and gives me cash for her share, which makes my commute a bit easier on the pocketbook). She put a tiny dab on her hand with a toothpick and it just bloomed. She came out to my desk trailing a tsunami of fruity-cakey-spicy goodness in her wake, and two of our male coworkers simply arrived in my cube without apparently taking any actual steps to get there, sniffing the air, demanding to know what that was?! Whoa. Guy magnet. It isn’t quite so ferocious on me – my boss has a remarkable facility to amp any scent she puts on, while I tend to suppress all scents somewhat – but it smells pretty much the same on both of us, and that just doesn’t happen. I’m keeping this, fer sher, and wearing it as often as I’m not going to be on public transportation or in elevators, since it’s so very potent. I may use a little in some conditioner or a solid lotion bar – it won’t take much, and it may reduce the throw enough for me to be comfortable with it. Otherwise, it will have to get its airings when I’m going to be out of doors or in large indoor spaces. I couldn’t be happier than I am with my LXXII. I have another bottle on order, and may add a couple more before CTIII is history, but I’m thrilled to pieces with my first bottle.

There's a whole thread about aging BPAL here. I don't think there's a hard and fast rule. Some notes age well, others don't.

I think that people, as well as BPAL oils, are more stable when kept under 85 degrees. I've been cranky for the last few days, too.

Not too sound too defensive, but I grew up in the desert and my family still lives there, and one big difference between that and what's happening now is that in the desert, you're prepared for it. Homes and businesses are air conditioned or have swamp coolers or both. Here in northern/central coast California, we normally only have a short period of very hot weather and it usually comes in late summer, and we cope just fine. When it's over 105 degrees **inside the house** and no way to cool it (air conditioners are sold out everywhere, with a 2-week waiting list), and people and pets are literally dying, I think it's justified to do a little complaining. I think cuervosueno was talking about people in Albuquerque complaining. I would find that odd, too.

I'll second the cooler. The oils don't need to be cold, but they'll stay stable longer in temps up to 85. . . . Just thought I'd bring this quote from Beth downtopic, since folks who are asking the same question prolly didn't see it before the threads were merged. I didn't know the upward temp limit for oil stability until I saw it this morning. I have to spend the day away from the house, but I think I'll seek out a cooler when I get home and transfer most of my oils to that for the duration of this heat wave -- toss in a gel pack every day or so to make sure the temp stays below 85. I'll prolly transfer my less-used bottles and imps to the extra fridge downstairs, as well. I know it won't hurt them (in fact, it's recommended that citrus oils be kept in the refrigerator), and it'll make it easier to find the ones I'm using regularly if I don't have to dig through layers in a cooler.

I have this thing about putting chlorine bleach into the water system. I just don't do it. I find that lemon juice or Dr. Bronner's Tea Tree soap (or Lush's Narcotik, of blessed memory) work great to get persistent unwanted smells off. Narcotik even worked with Blood Moon, and I thought I was doomed to smell of red musk for the rest of my life, at one point, until I remembered I had the Narcotik.

Frumious Bandersnatch was a 5ml-unsniffed purchase, based solely on the notes. I never made a better impulse purchase in my life. It doesn’t change on me – not so’s you’d notice, anyway – which is very rare, but in this case incredibly welcome. What this smells like to and on me – it smells like the spiced plum juice I make when the plum tree goes nuts and I decide to make jelly. This is the scent of the juice with the spice bag in it, before I add the sugar, while the plums still smell fresh from the tree. It smells like June in my kitchen in a good plum year. Ergo, this is the scent of summer, to me. I have no problem with smelling like fruit and clovey carnation goodness. I have a 10ml of Frumious Bandersnatch on order, because I will be making lotion, leave-in conditioner, and linen spray from this, as well as wearing it straight. I intend to live in Frumious Bandersnatch and Cheshire Cat this summer, and maybe through the autumn, as well. Well, I don’t have my Litha, yet, but that’s the current plan.

White Rabbit is one of those perfumes that aren’t just like any other perfume anywhere, ever. For one thing, there is nothing in this blend I would characterize as “sweet.” It has the clean herbal astringency of black tea, made smooth by the milk note, and a different sort of cleanliness from the linen note. The pepper and ginger are in there, for sure, tingling my tongue (no, I don’t get any in my mouth – just some oils do that when I apply them to pulse points), but they never take over. The honey is more of a suggestion, not heavy at all (and I don’t find honey a classically sweet scent, anyway), and the vanilla, uncharacteristically for my skin, doesn’t amp; it just provides a warm creamy base for the other notes. None of these notes identify themselves to my nose as “perfume,” so I find it difficult to think about White Rabbit as being a scent I am wearing, even while I am wearing it and catching occasional wafts. On me, it’s a skin scent – me, only better. The throw isn’t much – or I don’t experience it as being much – but that cleanliness and astringency is perceptible to me in the same way I can smell the mug of milky tea steaming on my desk, never far from my hand. I find both simultaneously stimulating, relaxing, and absolutely comfortable. I suspect that the effect on others is almost subliminal (assuming they are close enough to me to smell anything). The dry down is like strong black tea with a tiny drop of Milk Moon in it. I love this oil. It’s a natural choice for any situation in which I’m going to be in close quarters, but I also wear it on the weekends when I’m puttering around the house or erranding. It doesn’t grandstand or startle the way some others of my favorites do, or even enchant from four feet away the way Cheshire Cat does. It’s just for me to know about, and that’s fine by me.