Rackham's Vanity

Like jj_j, I also got sandalwood from Ingenue, bafflingly. There's no mention of it in the Lab's description, but there it is, and loudly to boot. Ingenue's a strong little scent, and an aquatic, perhaps owing to the prominent melon. For a floral, it's very cool and sweet, evoking night flowers in midsummer...I really appreciate the coolness of this scent, as most florals blaze white hot with my chemistry. The sweet melon never recedes completely, though the floral notes come and go. The phantom sandalwood remains ascendant throughout. I love Ingenue, to my own shock and surprise (another floral scent I like! What's happening to me??!?). Here's another vote to revive her from the Land of Discontinueds.

Ulalume is entirely freshwater aquatic on me, except in the very last hours before it fades completely. Then I get a tiny, wee lily peeking up out of the water. This scent would be a light blue-turquoise colour, and it invokes scenes of clear forest ponds and cold mountain lakes. It's a pleasant, nearly sweet scent, and it is never too strong at any point. I haven't anything at all bad to say about Ulalume. Except that it smells of freshwater, and I am nearly phobic of freshwater. Lakes and ponds disturb me deeply, always have. O Ulalume, if only you smelled more salty...like Jolly Roger...then we could be friends.

Crossroads began as a light floral on me. My nose is still baffled by floral blends, but I could pick out soft field lily...maybe lily of the valley as well..and perhaps jasmine...although I often get jasmine confused with "bulb" scents: paperwhites, and hiacynths. There was a curious and pleasant underlying sweetness to the floral that really interested me, but it lingered only briefly. Then, as with Nocnitsa, the earth notes arose, and all I could smell was sourness. I really wish I could enjoy the Lab's mosses more, but the acidity of the loam completely takes over on my skin. Crossroads finished as a gentle herbal with only a hint of the sour earth note. I think I'll let this one age a bit and then try again. Maybe in the Fall.

On first sniff: Winegums! I really didn't expect to like this scent as much as I do. The red-fruit sugar-sweetness of the blend is calmed by a lingering tartness...like the perfect ripe raspberry. The scent remains amazingly true throughout the day, softening only after twelve or so hours. Midwinter's Eve reminds me more of cranberry harvest season in Massachusetts than Yuletide, but that's a minor academic point. This is a lovely, bright, playful, yet oddly sophisticted scent. I'm hooked.

I can't decide about Nocnitsa. It morphs quickly on me, through several very distinct stages. Wet, it's piney and lovely, but quickly turns sour, almost unbearably so. Aquatics begin to ooze forward, but before they come to the forefront, the oil settles into a sweeter, almost resiny scent. The sour note does lurk in the background, however, adding a slightly disconcerting edge to the drydown's organic sweetness. It's the smell of forest decay, for sure, and well done...but I'm not sure it's for me.

This was very jasmine on me to start. I'm not a floral person, but I love the scent of jasmine, and Black Dahlia seemed replete with it. About two hours later, the jasmine died down, and the amber moved forward, trailing a ghost of rose behind. Then, all of a sudden, the scent was gone. It began so brashly, I was surprised it was so short-lived. All that remained was a whisper of clean, aquatic rose. Lovely, but brief.

This is such an odd little scent, but I am wildly drawn to it. It goes on minty, but not in a breath-mint way...it's more of a garden-mint scent. The mint is decidedly herbal, without any sweetness to it. Then, and rather quickly, it morphs into the oddest scent...I haven't any idea what note charges to the forefront, but it really does for all the world smell like a cat. It smells like warm kitty ears just after they were bathed by paw and tongue. I can't describe the drydown any other way. And it's not offensive to my nose...in fact I find it somewhat comforting, being far away from my own kitties at the moment. Amazing. It's a baffling scent, but I love it.

Normally, I can't get along with florals but Beltane is so yellowy, sunny, springy cheery, it's hard not to love it--even for a grumpy girl like me. Here are the best and brightest of the spring flowers: I get honeysuckle, perhaps a lily or two, buttercup, jasmine, and a touch of rose. And it's light and pretty on me, unlike most florals. Oh Beltane, you have wooed me well...

I'm afraid this just doesn't work on me. It's full of bright, sweet, unusual florals, but then the tobacco takes over and stays there. Don't get me wrong: BPAL tobacco isn't nasty ciggy butt tobacco. Far from it; on me it becomes an almost leather-like scent. It's not unpleasant, but my skin really amps it up in this oil. Off to the swaps.

This is like Vice, but darker, deeper, redder. Powdery, butter cocoa...almost coffee-like coming straight from the imp, and sweet red wine. TC is true to its description and changes very little on my skin. I simply love this. I may have to bathe in this scent in the fall.

I wanted so much to like this scent, as I adore coconut. Sadly, my skin did not bring out the coconut at all, and I was left with too much musk. My chemistry has also amped up a resinous note in the oil for some strange reason. Too bad. I'm sure this smells heavenly on the right person.

Oh, lovely. This is the most yellow scent I have ever smelled, and perfect for early spring (too bad it found its dear little way to me at the end of the summer!). I cannot believe Beth has recreated the scent of buttercups...which to me was always somewhat weird and un-flower-like for such sweet wee blossoms. The lucious jasmine is there too, but for me the anchor of this oil is the buttercup. I am completely floored and rather undone by this unusual scent. I still can't bloody believe Beth hit "buttercup" so squarely on the head! What a woman...

This is Jack Sparrow in a bottle. Beth, you are a goddess. On first application, Elegba is all Grog and a hint of toasty coconut. Upon drydown, the tobacco emerges softly...I could swear there's a lick of leather in there as well, but perhaps I'm...erm...projecting a little. It's boyish for me, but I like it. *nances off to sniff self and dream of Captain Jack*

Good Lord. This one hit me right in the hormones. And that's an okay thing. Jezebel is possibly the sexiest thing I have ever smelled, and I really don't know why. It's got a feral quality...almost like O... I can't put my finger on what ingredient might be attributed to this, but it can't be honey, can it? Snake Oil never effected me this way. Also, Jezebel's got a fruity quality that's not unlike Hunger...but Hunger doesn't make me want to roll around like a kitten in catnip. O Jezebel, how you taunt me! Please never stop... My heavens, I wish my boy was around tonight.

Oh Bliss. You are the perky sweet little sister of the sophisticated Velvet. You are Cadbury's milk chocolate and I adore you. Never leave me.

I was really looking foreward to this impsie! At first, Jack is awash in hot butter, but do not despair! On skin it calms and the butter steps down to allow a handful of "baking" spices to emerge: cinnamon, nutmeg, maybe a wee clove? Finally, the autumnal fruits dance forward (I can't get pumpkin at all, though I tried) and a smoky note wafts in to mix with the spices and butter. Beautiful. Smells like a foodie's Fall dream!

I. Love. This. Scent. I can't even really describe any of the individual notes, except to say it reminds me of orange, late-afternoon, hot, summer sunlight. I'm sorry. I wish I could be more precise with this one, but I just can't. Anne Bonny is one tough broad of a scent. I adore her.

Ho-boy. Y'know, I really wish I could describe this scent better. It is one of my favourites, and absolutely defies any attempt of mine to nail it down. I have to resort to imagery, I guess. It's a very cool scent, like the shore of the sea just before dawn, at the tail end of the first autumn night. It's very crisp, too, and penetrating. When I put it on, all I smell is blue, if that makes any sense at all. Beth gave it a perfect name; this scent is all ocean to me.

Masabakes Oh, I really wanted to like this, but it didn't work out that way. Masabakes is the "sharpest" BPAL oil I have sniffed thus far (and granted, I'm still only a few months converted). It reminded me of the citronella candles we would burn back home to ward off mosquitoes in the summer. I didn't get any black currant, sadly. In the end, it powdered out on me, while retaining its the sharpness. Masabakes is going into the swap pile, hopefully to end up with someone upon whom it smells amazing--not me, unfortunately.

A kind frimp from our darling Lab...and unreleased to boot! When I sniffed the imp, I was immediately assaulted by cherry flavour, and then a second sniff revealed orange. The fruits calm rather quickly. After the oil had been on my skin for about 10-20 minutes, out came almond and lovely spices As for the spices, I could identify clove, maybe nutmeg, and...cinnamon? Beneath the spices lurks warm almond. It's a comfy, spicy, familiar scent. It reminds me of Christmastime at my Swedish grandparents' house when I was wee. This oil feels so homey to me, I want to give it a big hug. Decadence will definitely be a winter blend for me; it speaks of cold weather and snow and candles and early sunsets. Around Yule this is gonna be a knockout!

Spellbound I am absolutely taken with this oil! In the imp I smelled concord grapes, believe it or not, but on my skin Spellbound blooms into a juicy, bright, sparkling, fruit scent with a perfect complement of rose. A lovely, summery evening scent, and a new favourite!

This is my sig. scent, and the main reason I got sucked into the delightful vortex of BPAL. Never could I have imagined a scent would reflect my personality so well. Spooky goes on minty and then morphs through various phases of rummy, coconutty, and then chocolatey. Sometimes it even doubles back and goes through all of the stages again. Sometimes it leans hard on the coconut and chocolate. Often it stops and hangs out in the rum for several hours (much like myself). It almost always finishes in coco-powdery chocolate with the faintest hint of mint. Perfect. Perfect. Even my mother, who is loath to accept any scents save the "department store" kind, says she loves this one on me. Major compliment, that!

I tried this scent in the middle of a heatwave, and while I like it, it is definitely a cold-weather oil for me. On me, it's slightly sweet, very spicy, and pleasantly warm. The leather and tobacco are there, too, but amazingly these notes don't push the scent too far masculine. I really do like this scent, but it's not a summer oil. I can see this one being just amazing in late October and through November. *pats its lickle impy head and hides it away until the fall*

Voluptuous and indulgent! A deep chocolate scent, with black cherry and orange blossom. I received Vice in a swap, and it has not disappointed. Vice is a very true scent on me, changing very little from application to drydown. (That having been said, I have learned not to wear scents anywhere on my arms, as the skin there seems to do strange things to scents after a very short time. I swipe the oils onto my neck and also daub a little into my hair. Works best for me.) From the outset, Vice is a clear, bright, cherry-berry scent with deep chocolate undertones. Most of the sweetness of this scent comes from the fruit notes and not the chocolate, which keeps it from being cloying. It's a summer scent for me, despite the chocolate, as the fruits always stay near the surface. On a side note, Vice received a thumbs-up from my five-year-old nephew, who, last week, threw his little arms around my neck and whispered, incredulously, "You smell like chocolate!"

I am another poster-girl for scents changing at "that time of the month." I got my delighted hands on some Snake Oil two weeks ago. It was glorious and honey-sweet, spicy and complex in the bottle. I slathered it on, and sat there in horror as the scent morphed into medicine and then cheap powder scents. I was heartbroken. My one consolation was that it was the week before my period and some here on the forum mentioned one's cycle could alter scents for the good or bad. I waited a few weeks and tried again. Last night, I took a deep breath and on went the Snake Oil before I went out. Success! There were all of the gorgeous exotic spicy notes I smelled in the bottle! Even the vanilla appeared! It lasted unchanged all night (just became a bit warmer than on first application), and I am delighted with it. The moral of the story: I shall no longer try new scents just before my period. I shall be patient (good luck to me!) and wait a week or two before making a final judgement.