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Graphica

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Blog Entries posted by Graphica

  1. Graphica
    So I received my first imps some time ago and am just getting around to putting my impressions into words. I've decided to be quasi-scientific about it and do the one-scent-a-day-noting-all-impressions approach that I see so many people adopting in the reviews section. But first ...
     
    I'm a little frustrated, when reading the reviews of others, to see descriptions of people's impressions that basically rewrite the lab's official write-up, or that seem to hinge entirely on the name of the scent. For example, Coyote: We get lots of descriptions of warm fur smell, lying in grasses in the hot plains sun, etc. I almost wish the lab would release the scent unnamed, let us review it, then tell us what it's supposed to be. And without revealing the notes.
     
    There's no doubt that we all smell things differently, pick up different scents, completely lose others, and turn scents on their heads on our skin (or amp up particular ones). Having said that, it's not helpful to read a review of a scent with the notes described as "cedar, bergamot, black tea" and to see someone say "I'm standing in the woods sipping a cup of Earl Grey." Now, that might be exactly the impression the person got, but I can't help but believe their impression was affected by the description. We humans are nothing if not mentally malleable.
     
    I'm not sure where I'm going with this. This isn't intended as a rail against people's review styles, and I certainly don't want to discourage anyone from writing reviews in a way that expresses their sensations most meaningfully. However, I feel the process is tainted by the marketing. (Bless the lab, they do what every good business does.) Just my take on things.
     
    Last note: I've already smelled an imp or two that had the main notes stand out most strongly as the ones listed by the lab, so I'm not saying that people are incorrect to fix on those elements and write about them. All I'm saying is that I will try very hard to review scents based on how they smell, and even though I'm sure I'll be influenced to some degree by the words, I really, really will try to be objective.
  2. Graphica
    Sweet, smoky and sensually wicked. A thick, steamy scent, truly sinister in its voluptuous sexuality. The perfume of a demon's favored consort, or of the devil herself. Oleander with wet, sweet mandarin, lush magnolia, a rush of deep musk and a touch of spice.

    in the bottle: Fruity and musky, with a background of some warm spice, like cinnamon or clove.

    on wet: Musky floral. Puts me in mind of something like Opium or Poison. I'm not saying the scent is similar, but that it gives me a similar feel. I liked it better in the bottle.

    drydown: A minute later and the scent is already back to fruity, or at least, it has gotten significantly sweeter but not in a bad way. This really reminds me of Poison. My current impression is that I like it, but ... hmmm. I'd call it sexy, but almost too in-your-face sexy, which is definitely nothing like me. I don't think that anyone who knows me would call me sexy, not even sensual, more ... reserved. Granted, part of the allure of perfume is stepping outside one's own skin for a short time, but this is too much like wearing someone else's clothes.

    one hour later: Cloying. I don't think the scent has changed, more like my nose is overwhelmed, saturated. This really isn't for me. I won't be aging this one to see if it morphs.

    end of day: Never made it. Had to wash it off after an hour or so. This scent was literally exhausting to me. It wore out my nose, wore down my mood, and left me feeling ragged and tired.

    compared to official description: "Thick" is a good word for this: It almost literally weighed down my wrists. At the very least, it weighed me down -- made me lethargic right to my core.

    I've never smelled a scented magnolia blossom, so don't know how to pick that out of the mix. I'm sure I've never smelled oleander straight either. I just looked up oleander, and assuming it's Nerium oleander, it's supposed to be an exceptionally toxic plant, which I find interesting. I wonder if Beth picks scents for their historic or mythic character as well as the actual scent. Probably. Almost certainly, I think.

    notes: Heady. Not for the timid or restrained. This one needs a big personality and a desire to disturb the serenity of nearby males. Definitely not me.

    added to forum reviews
  3. Graphica
    Another scent dislike -- an odd one, perhaps, for someone on this site -- is strong perfumes, no matter their components. By strong I mean something with a lot of throw. Perfume, to me, is something you should pick up when you're close to someone. Maybe it's the romantic in me, but I think of it as something that should make you want to lean in and and take a deep breath. If it's swirling around you at ten paces from the source, it's irritating and pointless. People with strong perfume are no better than walking room fresheners. And why would you ever want to stand close to someone with a wall of scent around them? Actually, "wall" strikes me as a good word; a person loaded with perfume has a built-in defensive perimeter of scent. It isn't inviting, it's prickly and thick, like a rank of shields and spears.
     
    I think my preference here is because I'm very aware of how much of my feelings for people are affected by scent. This may be something from the survival-based category, as I seem to rely a great deal on my sense of smell to really get a feel for people. Unfair or not, how someone smells can weigh heavily in my judgment.
     
    We may be talking about pheromones here, as well as grooming scents. An example: I've known many people that make my whiskers stand up, for better or worse, before I've seen or heard anything from them that should give me a strong opinion. (BTW, I'm not a fan of simplistic application of the word 'instinct' -- instinct is merely the functioning of our five natural senses at a threshhold below conscious recognition. It isn't magic, it's just some part of us that resists being affected by the frontal lobe.) I know a few people that are pleasant, well-liked, and easy to get along with but that raise my hackles. Pheromones? Psychological? I don't know why it would be the latter. There are people that I really want to like, but for no apparent reason can't summon anything better than mild dislike for. If that isn't bad chemistry (quite literally), I don't know what it is. Well, and let's be honest: Conversely, I've known people that were absolutely no good, but that I was instantly comfortable around. People that were definitely not companion material, but that gave me an almost instant feeling of kinship, or ... well ... desire.
     
    I know there are plenty of psychiatrists out there that would argue that every bit of that is software, and that it feeds a need for rebellion, or that it's hardware and feeds a need for adrenalin-pumping danger, etc., but that doesn't explain instant attraction to someone who's perfectly suitable as a companion, and yeah, I have those moments too. As an aside, I fully believe that we don't know enough about how our brains function to be able to properly distinguish between impulses that are software-driven, hardware-driven, or both.
     
    I genuinely believe that some part of my olfactory-system-to-primitive-brain process can detect and make me understand when I'm too alike or too unlike some people (in all the wrong ways) at a basic, genetic level. It seems farfetched when stated "out loud" like that, but I'm not claiming to be any different than anyone else. I think we humans have many potentially strong, primitive subconscious interactions with our environment that have, for many people, gone rusty with disuse (or with being ignored). So what am I saying? Can we subconsciously detect when we're a good "chemical" (i.e. genetic) match, sexually? What about when we're judging a person of the same sex? (Speaking, obviously, from a heterosexual point of view.) Are we able to subconsciously understand that someone is very different from, or similar to, us in makeup, and do we then become more or less comfortable with them because they're "of our clan" or "other"? Did human senses ever allow our species to correctly judge such things, and do they still? Is it all written in our pheromones?
     
    Another example: I know a few men that I don't particularly like or dislike, but that make my skin tingle when they're close. Seen at a distance: nothing. Sound of their voices: nothing. Thoughts of: not the least bit inappropriate. Close up: strong, unreasoning response with a deep desire to get close to their bare skin. What is that if not pheromones? I can't actually smell anything, but I'm responding from head to toes to someone that I'm otherwise completely uninterested in.
     
    As far as grooming scents, I've never had a chance to research it, but there are men's scents that instantly leave me feeling mellow and ... pliable. I've never gotten that straight from a bottle of cologne, but warmed on the skin of a few men, it's hypnotic. My significant other is a good example of both: Freshly showered and without added scent, when I'm against his skin I feel like I want to just cling to him, breathing deeply, and stay that way forever. With cologne, I want to nibble every inch of him. With hot skin and a fresh, light layer of sweat ... oh. my. god.
     
    Pheromones. Definitely.
     
    Sorry. Wandered off track there. Ahem. So ... my point being: When I'm talking to someone and all I can smell is a thick layer of perfume (or cologne), I'm irritated by it in the same way I would be if that person required me to converse with them blindfolded. I feel like I'm being manipulated. It's as if they're projecting who they want to be, forcing me to have a specific impression of them, instead of just letting me get to know them. They may as well be wearing a costume, or talking with a fake accent. Ugh. It wrecks my sense of who they are and makes me uncomfortable. I literally feel like one of my senses has been stripped away. Deliberately. And as innocuous as the perfume wearer's intentions are, I end up resenting the olfactory masking.
  4. Graphica
    Seduction, sensuality, the Act, and the aftermath all in one. The scent of warm, damp skin flushed with the glow of passion, touched by the luxuriant potency of ylang ylang and myrrh.

    in the bottle: Something a little fake and plastic-y. A blast of sweet almond. Musk, not overpowering. Overtones of ... ? I don't know. Something that puts me in mind of just-dried sweat. Not unpleasant. Maybe the initial musk (or a second musk).

    on wet: Plastic and almond with overtones of musk and powder. The fresh sweat smell is gone. So far, this is staying remarkably close to my skin.

    drydown: Powdery musk. Something a little resinous and/or smoky. Powdery, mostly. Some catch-in-the-throat smokiness coming through, but just barely.

    one hour later: Powder, dammit! Why do so many things end up smelling like powder on me?

    end of day: I've tried this oil twice now and haven't made it to the end of the day with it. What I mean is, I lose interest, forget about it, then end up remembering a few days later that I never did my final assessment. I wanted to like this, so it bothers me a little to say this: it fails to make an impression. Quite literally. Can't say it's good or bad. Just ... meh.

    compared to official description: No idea what ylang-ylang smells like. See "notes after notes" at the end of this review.

    notes: Oddly, the cap of the imp (on the inside) smells overpoweringly of plastic and almond. The liquid in the vial is more fresh sweat and musk. I'm guessing some separation happened, but I can't seem to get it recombined. I think there's too little space in the vial to get a good shaking action going. I'll stand the vial on its head for a week or so to see if that makes a difference. [edited to add: I did this. Made a little bit of difference, but there's still a sense of separation.]

    notes after notes: If there are moments that deserve to be immortalized with paint, music, or scented oils, they are the ones where words fail. "Seduction, sensuality, the Act, and the aftermath" would definitely be one of those moments. I admire Beth's courage in trying to capture the moment in scent, but I have trouble imagining how you would even go about that. After all, no one wants to smell, literally, like they just had sex. So what then? "Warm, damp skin flushed with the glow of passion." Whose skin? I won't argue that you can't smell someone's desire on their skin, you definitely can. But it's not a particular scent, it's the difference (in anyone's skin) between normal and flushed, dry and damp, blood running normally or hormones raging. This is a different scent on different people. It's each of us, individually enhanced with the heat and chemicals of lust.

    I'm not saying that the moment isn't full of wonderful scents: musky, salty, earthy. I can see trying to turn these into a scented oil, but I suspect that Beth is hamstrung in this effort (to a certain degree) by avoiding true animal musks. Maybe what's being attempted here is enhancement of skin -- any skin -- with scents that deepen the inherent skin-ness of each of us. Are we similar enough for this to be successful? I doubt it. There are threads full of people who find a "skin only better" scent for themselves, only for someone else to say it "smells like burned plastic" on them.

    What's being captured here then? A feeling? How do you capture the electric ache of being close ... so close ... but not quite touching? With night-blooming florals? And the shuddery first brush of skin on skin; is that myrrh? What about being pulled tight to your lover and feeling the evidence of their desire? How about almost not being able to breathe, anticipating the moment when you'll feel them inside you? Is that ylang-ylang? My point is, we're talking about a series of events which are too tied to the deepest part of yourself, too complex in potential sensations and emotions, for translation, for distillation into a bottle. What defines the essence of breathless, aching sexual need? Almonds?

    I know I'm being too literal, but the experience is going to be very different, not just from person to person, but sexual moment to sexual moment, even between the same people. What is a perfume designed to capture the essence of desire and fulfillment going to be like, really? Sometimes the moment is slow and warm; sometimes it's light and sweet. Then there's frantic, heady, overheated, and on and on. Just the idea of these different feelings, different ways in which the moment can play out, puts me in mind of different scents (different music, different colors, different textures, etc.).

    If I'm going to be too nit-picky and literal, I may as well take it a step further and talk about the name. La petit mort isn't "seduction, sensuality, the Act, and the aftermath all in one," it's really only the aftermath; or rather, the climax. Can that be a perfume? So, the oil represents a sensation then? A sensation of pleasure? Of release?

    I'm not being argumentative, truly. Though you could say I'm taking it a bit too seriously. I'll accept that. Granted, it's just scented oil. And marketing. I guess I went into this with a certain amount of doubt. I'm coming out of it with a feeling (a lot like certainty) that the only creative expression that could potentially do the moment justice is music. But that's another, um, essay.

    Again, I think it's great that Beth is attempting these things. At worst, she'll produce some wonderful oils that give people a great deal of pleasure. At best, for someone, this may put them in mind of a lovely moment.

    None of this will prevent me from trying other oils with similar themes, like O, Wanda, Perversion, etc. I'm certain I'll find one that, if not exactly putting me in the moment, will at least put me in the mood.

    added to forum reviews
  5. Graphica
    I decided to amend my thoughts from my previous post. The whole "no better than a walking room freshener" bit was harsh. I understand the other side of putting out a particular image (the projecting side, as opposed to the being-projected-upon side). I can't speak for everyone, but I know that we women will, on some occasions, choose our clothes, makeup, hair color, etc. because there's a facet of ourselves that we want to nurture and make prominent. We all have some aspect of bad girl, ingenue, sophisticate, tomboy, fighter, animal, sex toy, etc. And yes, sometimes we want, or need, to focus on that part of ourselves -- to bring it to the fore. Choosing a perfume that announces who (or what) you are is a convenient way to do that. So, yeah, while I sometimes resent being forced to view someone in a certain way based on the temporary choices they've made with their physical appearance or grooming enhancements, that's how the game is played. You are who you appear to be until you've decided that you want to know someone better, then you let them in and you are who you are. Rant neutralized.
     
    And my apologies to those who prefer perfume with a lot of throw. While I may not necessarily want to get anywhere near you, I've known your scent to sometimes brighten a room, change the atmosphere, or set a mood.
     
    Elevators are quite another thing.
  6. Graphica
    Well, ok, I haven't reviewed -- or even tested -- all the imps I have (though I've smelled them all), but I'm ordering a new set.
     
    My SO and I went to a wood-working store with lots of exotics, and after following his nose to a stack of Spanish cedar, commented that any perfume that contained that would drive him wild.
     
    Alrighty! Ysabel, here I come. His comment is probably the only thing that could convince me to try a perfume with rose other than Les Infortunes.
     
    I'm also getting:
     
    Lampades
    Ulalume
    Black Opal
    Wrath
    Yggdrasil
     
    Can't wait!
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