Bluestocking

In the imp: Whoa, this is incredibly complex (which is probably obvious from that laundry list of notes). The scent definitely has a sweet (almost sugary), warm feel to it, and it seems appropriately rich. With each sniff, I swear I smell another one of the elements, but what stands out most are the dark vanilla, leather, champaca, amber tobacco, and I think a touch of the ginger, adding a bit of tingle. The flowers seem absent, or else so well blended that they're indistinguishable. On, wet: A big, hazy plume of opium smoke, complicated with the leather, peru balsam, tea leaf and tobacco. This is more masculine, much less golden and sweet, with something almost minty in the background from the balsam. However, it's the perfect scent for the start of Coleridge's tale: this is the scent of a poet in his study, high on opium and dreaming fantastically. On, dry: Now it's closer to the way it smelled in the imp: warm, rich, sweet and creamy. I get the dark vanilla, opium and tobacco in the forefront, melded together in a delicious sweet-spicy-smoky haze, but I also get twinges of jasmine and hay absolute, with some sandalwood and buttery-soft leather beneath, grounding the sweeter smells. There's a touch of champaca giving it an incense-y vibe, but the rose and lily are so subtle for me that they're difficult to pick out. On the whole, it smells hedonistic, complicated and intoxicating. So, basically, perfect. Later: The opium and leather are gone, so it's mostly dark vanilla, tobacco and sandalwood now: smooth, spicy, sweet and woody. It's a little bit like the Antikythera Mechanism now, with the dark, smoky vanilla and tobacco. This still has a very golden feel, although it's darker now and much fainter and less heady than it was—like the trip is winding down, wearing off, leaving just a ghost of itself behind as a memory. Overall: This really does capture Coleridge's poem astoundingly well. For all those complicated notes, they blend very well into something that, well… sort of smells like the Milk of Paradise. The complexity makes this interesting, the way it unfolds and evolves is fascinating… but really, I just like this one because it smells great: smoky, spicy and complex, yet somehow light and shimmering and golden. It's beautiful.

In the imp: The most perfect Irish coffee I think I've ever smelled. It's sugary sweet, creamy, boozy coffee. There's a hint of something that makes me think of hazelnuts, as well as a nearly buttery caramel note. On, wet: This is super strong, but it's a coffee lover's paradise! Less coffee, but a lot more booze and creamy caramel, with just a touch of something drier behind that suggests the polished oak. On, dry: The coffee has stepped back a bit and allowed the wonderful, steady oak note to come forward, along with a slightly sweet/dusty/dry scent that I can only identify as old books and paper—the essence of a large library distilled. The sweet whisky and darker coffee are still hanging around, but now they're the accents, rather than the whole show, and the combination together is amazing. It's amazingly evocative, almost exactly like sitting in a study carrel, poring over old books while you sip your latte. Later: It's boozier again, so now I get the scents of polished oak, smooth whisky and parchment paper, with an deep undertone of the dark coffee. It's gone from the scent of studying in some dark corner of a massive old library to, uh… doing other, naughtier things in some dark corner of a massive old library. Up against the shelves. Overall: I can see how you might not like Miskatonic University if you don't care for fooy/sweet scents or coffee, or if you've never deeply inhaled the air in a library just to enjoy the smell of all that knowledge. Otherwise, though… this is just bliss to my book-loving, coffee-drinking, deeply nerdy soul. The early stages of the scent are delicious, if almost too sweet, but once the oak and old book scents come forward to add some complexity, this is intoxicating: equal parts studious and sexy. One note, though: this is SUPER strong and long wearing. I didn't put on much, and I was enveloped in a heady cloud of sweet-coffee-woody-bookishness that lingered until the next morning. Don't slather this one on unless you want everybody to think that you took a bath in Irish coffee.

In the imp: Deep, dreamy blues and greens, almost but not quite floral. This is cool, fresh ocean water, with maybe a hint of sweet dragon's blood, but not much. This is really all about the water. On, wet: Wow, this is potent on my skin! These are dark waters, and now I'm getting some salt with it—very much like a grotto filled with ocean water. The dragon's blood is piping up, too, adding sweetness and that little touch of lilac-y floral. On, dry: Much the same, although now the ocean water and dragon's blood are blended, rather than distinct notes. Dragon's blood always smells like cherries and lilacs on me, so it's making this a distinctly feminine blend, even though the saltwater keeps it from being overly sweet. Rather than an ocean with blood, it makes me think more of Egle calling out to the depths for her husband, her perfume mingling with the smell of the sea. Later: Sweet dragon's blood, with an aquatic undertone. Overall: I've never tried an aquatic before—somehow the category always scared me off—but I'm surprised to find that I like this. It's very evocative of the ocean and that section of Egle's story, and it has a cool, dark, mysterious feel to it. It would be perfect for Summer, I think. It has absolutely massive throw and wear length for me, which is nice, although I'll have to be sparing about applying it if I don't want to knock people over with the aquatic-y, lilac-y goodness. I'm so glad the lab frimped this to me, because I doubt I'd have tried it otherwise.

In the imp: Sexy! The tobacco and vanilla hit it right off, equally matched into a sweet, spicy, slightly smoky whole. I get little hints of that nice dry wood in the background from the teak and oak, but the tobacco and vanilla are the stars. On, wet: Even lovelier. The tobacco blooms as soon as it hits my skin, a spicy-sweet whoosh, and then it's melded with that beautiful dark vanilla. The woods are stronger but still in the background, polished and steady and beautiful in their own rights. It's such a rich, warm, gorgeous scent, pleasingly smoky and not aggressively sweet. It calls to mind a Victorian gentleman's club—a very fine one—with exotic wood paneling, a whiff of good cologne and an impeccable choice of cigars. On, dry: One silky-smooth scent, perfectly blended. The black vanilla is the heart of it, enhanced by the other notes. The tobacco gives it spice, the teak adds dry, exotic wood and the oak holds everything together, keeping the sweetness from ever becoming too much. Mmmmm, I can't stop sniffing it. Later: Pretty much the same, though it's a little bit drier—more teak, less tobacco. It's just rounder, fuller, more fully blended into a sweet-smoky-woody whole. Overall: I can't gush enough about the Antikythera Mechanism! I'm always a sucker for anything vanilla, and I've tried a lot of vanilla-scented perfumes and creams over the years, but this comes the closest to capturing what makes a true, high-quality vanilla so intoxicating and exotic. It isn't just sweet and light and simple; this is sensual and dark and rich, and above all, it has depth, thanks to the woods and tobacco. Easily worth a big bottle purchase.

In the imp: Lovely and outdoorsy. Pine and tangy-sweet cranberry are most apparent, but I also get some cedar and a suggestion of green, growing things. It's not quite as green as I expected, but it is woody and wild. Also, the pine note is just dead on—I've never been to Jersey, but I grew up with a backyard filled with white pines, and this is exactly how they smell: green, slightly sweet-sharp, a hint of sap. On, wet: The fresh cedar and green, leafy aromas bloom in a big way as soon as this hits my skin—now it really smells like a forest filled with evergreens, not unlike the first stage of Tristran. I got a few pungent sniffs of the note I dreaded, the tomato leaf, but it actually works very well with the other components, and it already seems to have retreated to a supporting role. The cranberry isn't on top anymore, but I get that crisp, tart fruit every now and then. On, dry: This scent is constantly changing on me—not in a huge way, but there are all these subtle little shifts so that it's a bit different each time I sniff. Anyway, after its initial big whoosh, the cedar died down and is now a base for the other scents. There's more fresh pine with the rich cranberry beneath it, but the sharper green leaves keep the cranberry from taking over. Later: This becomes more cranberry over time, but it doesn't crowd out the other elements. It's just a ripe, wonderful berry note, smooth and not too sweet. Combined with the pine and the green leaves, it does make me think of Christmas. Overall: This is possibly the scent I least wanted to try out of the GC, and yet I loved it. Besides capturing the perfect natural pine aroma, I think the thing that won me over was the cranberry note. It gives this blend a sweet roundness, a little mellowness that distinguishes this from the other fresh, woodsy blends that I've tried so far. I loved those other blends (especially Tristran), but Jersey Devil is the one that I can actually see myself wearing regularly—that berry makes this more feminine, while still being very much a "great outdoors" scent. I also suspect it would make a great room scent, especially in the colder months.

In the imp: Honeyed roses at first, but a deeper sniff brings out the sweet-tart orange blossom. The sandalwood is difficult to find—very subtle, underneath the dark honey and flowers. Decadent is the word for this one—it's warm and golden and seductive. On, wet: Orange blossom honey, backed with rose petals. The sandalwood is really nowhere to be found, though I bet it will peek out again later. The orange blossoms are very nice here, bright and fresh in counterpoint to the heavier sweetness of the honey and roses, but not too sharp. This is feminine and sexy. On, dry: The rose blooms as this dries down, so now there's a nice balance between the three main components. Rose is slightly more prominent, but it's blended well with the honey and orange so that it's just luxurious and sweet, with an earthy, almost-musky scent beneath that makes me think of… well, it smells like sex. Later: Rose and sandalwood, with a lingering undercurrent of honey. It's still very sweet, but mellower, earthier and less fruity as most of the orange is gone and the sandalwood has come out. Still, it isn't remotely a woody scent. Overall: Once again, the lap has offered me a frimp of a scent I didn't have on my list and proved that they know all. This is very sweet and seductive, luxurious and womanly—dark, sticky, golden honey littered with rose petals and orange blossoms. It's impossible not to feel attractive while wearing such a scent, and although I'm not yet sure I want a big bottle of such a sweet scent, I definitely want to keep my imp and save it for those days when I want to be a gorgeous, confident seductress. Bonus: this one has ridiculous throw and wear length on me, so a little goes a long way.

In the imp: Very fresh, lots of evergreen coolness and bite. Juniper hits my nose first, but the cypress is right behind, with a hint of the cold eucalyptus—not nearly enough to think of cold medicine or craft stores, though. This is a forest all the way, but it isn't a gentle one. This doesn't make me think specifically of a werewolf (that seems like it would be a musky scent to me), but this does seem like the dark, dangerous scent of the woods that would contain a werewolf. On, wet: Cypress! Tons of dark green, woody, slightly sweet cypress. Again, there's just a whiff of the eucalyptus, enough to lend this blend a cold aspect—sort of a damp chill in the dark forest, making this very much a winter scent. There was a burst of spicy-citrusy galangal when it first hit my skin, but it seems to have disappeared. On, dry: Juniper and evergreen have found a balance and started to blend together—still woody and dark green to me. It's a very piney Juniper, too, reminiscent of the pine in Jersey Devil. Unlike Jersey Devil, there's no cranberry here to round out the wood and pine needles. Instead, the galangal has surfaced again and is doing interesting things with the wood, creating a touch of fresh, earthy-citrus zing. For me, this is gender-neutral, but I can see how it could strike somebody else as masculine. Later: The notes haven't changed much—it's still juniper, cypress and galangal—but it's smoother, subtler, more refined now—very nice and woody, but still with lots of green. Hmm, maybe this is the werewolf transforming back into a more civilized animal? Overall: Very nice, very woodsy, very fresh and gender-neutral. In all honesty, I'm not sure this hits the werewolf concept for me, but it is pleasant, and though tastes vary, it didn't strike me as medicinal at all. I always like the layered, forest-style fragrances, and the galangal is an interesting twist, but I prefer the lighter, friendlier woods of Tristran, or even the complexity of Jersey Devil. This is a perfectly nice fragrance; it's just that there are other Forest blends that I like more.

In the imp: Bright lemon and orange, with a breath of sweet jasmine and maybe a hint of the orris. It's a fruity, red-gold floral, very luxurious and refined. On, wet: The roses bloom as soon as this touches my skin, full and red, and then there's the jasmine/orris/citrus combo, a nice combination of freshness and sweetness. There's just enough amber beneath to give this nice warmth and sensuality—not as sweet or heavy as Jezebel, but there's something here that reminds me of it. Beautiful citrus notes, which remind me of the Orangerie that's on the grounds of Versaille. On, dry: Beautifully blended, very smooth and creamy. The sweet, rich amber is the golden heart of this perfume now, followed closely by the roses. The citrus is lighter but still present, brightening up everything and keeping it fresh, while the jasmine is sweet but surprisingly light—a supporting player, not the star. The orris is even more subtle, but in the background, I get a bit of its powdery, purple presence. Later: Essentially unchanged: amber and roses with citrus, subtle jasmine and orris. Overall: Versailles is an opulent, larger-than-life place that demands a similarly opulent, larger-than-life perfume, and I think this scent delivers. It's aristocratic, decadent and a bit debauched—the perfume of a grand duchess in an exquisite ball gown, maybe plotting some intrigue or meeting her secret lover. Honestly? I can't say enough good things about this one. It's total love! ETA: I only just realized why this scent reminds me so much of Jezebel: it's because during the dry down, the citrus transforms into something that smells almost exactly like orange blossoms. Aha!

In the imp: Right off the bat, I get this amazing orchid note, with some soft musk and a fresh, damp quality. No juniper berries or patchouli yet, but wow, I'm looking forward to this one. Like Titania, it has a fey, irresistible and enchanting quality. On, wet: Oh, this is the same sweet, pure orchid note that makes me swoon in Ile de la Tortue! Here, though, that amazing, ethereal orchid-and-white-musk combo is spiked with the tang of the juniper berries and just a tiny hint of the citrusy bergamot. It's a very fresh, clean aroma, like I'm outside and it's just rained. It's otherworldly and beautiful. On, dry: This is amazingly blended, because it's really quite difficult to pull out individual notes. The heart of the scent is that sweet, mellow orchid—softened by the musk, freshened by the bergamot and juniper berry, grounded by the subtle patchouli. It makes me think of twilight and a mist-filled glen in the middle of a forest, even though it isn't a usual "forest" scent. This seems to be less masculine on me than on some others, because I actually can't imagine just any man wearing this scent—it's a bit too lush and flowery—but the King of the Faeries would do brilliantly with this. Later: A little bit fresher and greener, some more juniper and bergamot, but basically unchanged… which is quite all right with me, because this is gorgeous. It does smell more gender-neutral now. Overall: Orchid is a can't-miss note for me, so there was little chance that I would dislike this one, but even so, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. This is every bit as beautiful and well-blended and fey as Titania, albeit in a different way; Titania is golden and glowing and feminine, whereas Oberon is still luminous, but darker and closer to gender-neutral. They're a perfect pair, totally worthy of one another, and I think I must have a big bottle of both of them

In the imp: Sweet and very, very purple with a tinge of green. I get the wildflowers above all, with a side of plums and a tiny bit of creaminess. It's pretty, innocent and extremely feminine, but maybe more floral than I expected. On, wet: Ah, okay, this is more like it. Once it touched my skin, it instantly became mostly juicy, sweet-tart plums and fresh cream, backed with those fresh wildflowers—and they're definitely wildflowers, because they have a green quality to them. I fell like I'm in a meadow, sitting under a plum tree. On, dry: Not very much changed. It's just rounder, more mellowed, more blended. The cream becomes more and more apparent, and it's blended nicely with the fruit and flowers, so that no one component gets sharp or dominates too much; the flowers are very light and unobtrusive. Good throw, too—I didn't put on very much, but I'm getting lovely little whiffs as I move around. Later: Still creamy-sweet plums with a breath of florals, but it's also developed a scent that I can only describe as clean—not at all soapy, just very pure, sort of like a fresh breeze, and it only adds to the meadow impression I got earlier. Overall: Purple, pretty, fruity and feminine. Prunella has a very youthful, wholesome, innocent vibe to it, and I think it would be a perfect perfume for spring—so it can wait for a bit until the weather around here is less Arctic.

In the bottle: Woody, fresh, green—this is a forest in a bottle, perfectly captured. At first sniff, the redwood/evergreen and extremely fresh mint and coriander stand out, but a longer sniff reveals lots of layers—again, like a forest. Then I get hints of sweeter sandalwood and rosewood, a light whiff of tonka and the patchouli beneath. It's a masculine scent, but definitely the scent of a boy or young man, as opposed to an older one. It's idealistic and hopeful. On, wet: Mmmmm, it's a lovely green forest, but not a dark, scary one. There's a certain lightness here, and a warmth. The redwood and green herbs still stand out to me, but again, I sense the other elements layered beneath. It's actually filling me with massive waves of nostalgia for the hemlock-filled forest the last time I went camping, or the wooded area behind my house when I was a child. I don't know how, because there isn't a soil note, but somehow this really does bring a sense of muddy trails and evergreen needles crunched underfoot. (Maybe it's the combination of the patchouli and the herbs?) On, dry: The richer, sweeter elements are moving forward and mellowing the green, herbal quality now—more rosewood than redwood, more sandalwood and creamy tonka than coriander. So now this makes me think of a polished roll-top desk in a book-lined study, rather than a sunlit forest glade—not a bad trade, though I love both phases. I don't get lemon in and of itself, but as with a lot of BPAL blends for me, the lemon can be detected more in what it does to the other elements. Here, it's adding that fresh, hopeful, bright quality. Patchouli grounds the whole thing, earthy and slightly rugged but not dark or heavy. Later: Gleaming rosewood (with a touch of rose), white sandalwood and tonka: polished, woody, lightly sweet and gorgeous. I keep sniffing myself, or getting a whiff and wondering which man walked by me and smelled so good! Overall: I've been lucky enough to be on a roll with great BPAL scents lately, and Tristran is no exception; it's everything I hoped Lysander would be. This is quite possibly my ideal masculine scent: rugged but not macho, youthful but not juvenile, fresh but not overly herbal. It's the scent of a genuinely good man, woodsy and bookish all in one, and I would immediately be drawn to a man wearing this scent—really, it's amazing. Now I just need to find a man to slather with it… NOTE: I wrote this review before having read Stardust, so I didn't know anything about Tristran's character at the time. Now that I've read the book, I can only marvel at how completely Beth captured his spirit in this blend. It's a perfect fit!

In the imp: Mostly green tea with a big fat slice of lemon here--very refreshing and light and clean smelling. Pure is a very good word for it. On, wet: Lemon WOW. But it's nice and fresh-smelling (no fake Lemon Pledge note), and there are hints of the greener scents, like the tea and aloe, to give it depth. Not much musk, but I expect that to come out later. Later: The musk, tea, aloe and lemon are all in balance now—citrusy but lightly green, with the lightly sweet, shimmery quality that I usually get from white musk. Overall: It's hard to explain to explain just why, but this scent makes me think of sunlight and a clean house and freshly-washed linens. It has that sense of absolute cleanness, that satisfaction and lightness of spirit. It's not long-lived on me, but I still think it would be wonderful in Summer.

In the imp: Mmm, sweet-spicy floral. I'm definitely getting amber and some dark dreaminess from the poppy. I'm also smelling something that's a little bit like lilac, for some reason. On, wet: Resins and flowers, with a sweet, sensual weight that does seem a little heavy-lidded and languid. More lilac, and now I smell the yland ylang, too. Still plenty of dark, sweet poppy, with amber grounding the whole thing. On, dry: Already melded into a unified scent for me: sweet, floral, resinous, decadent and dreamy. There's a touch of smoke from the poppy, and a very tiny hint of powder from the amber and continuing lilac… which I can only conclude is the Dragon's Blood Resin. (Nice! I love lilacs.) Wow, I want to dab this one on and go drape myself on a velvet chaise lounge in a darkened, smoky room, watching visions rise and fall. Later: This one just gets better and better. I'm getting some red, red cherry right alongside the lilac, which appears to be another scent associated with the dragon's blood. (Again, yum. Clearly I like dragon's blood, and it likes me.) Overall: It's lovely, lovely, lovely. Not for those who abhor sweetness or florals, but on me, it's delicious, dreamy and intoxicating. I'm so glad I got this as a freebie, because I don't know if I would have tried it otherwise.

In the imp: Spicy lavender. I don't get much of the lotus itself right now, although it's softened and sweetened the lavender here—it's not sharp, super-herbal lavender, but rather fresh and clean. Lots of very nice spice here. I admit that before sniffing, I was… bemused…at the choice of lavender for a Parisian concept scent, because lavender is something I associate with Provence, but I'm ready to roll with it now. On, wet: Lots more lovely, warm, sexy spice, and already the lavender and lotus are bending together—the lavender gives a fresh kick, but beyond that, the lotus is candy sweet and soft and tying it together. All right, now I'm getting a picture of where this is going: confident, alluring in an effortless way. Bold and feminine—this is a savvy woman who knows style and carries it off with class. So… yeah, that's like Paris in a bottle, or at least that's how Paris makes me feel. On, dry: Already blended into a harmonious, spicy-sweet-fresh whole. I love lotus in general, and it really does nice things here to meld the spice and lavender together. It gives this a sweetness that you wouldn't expect from a lavender blend. Later: Pretty much unchanged, but still very pretty. Overall: It's an elegant, very feminine blend, but not at all snooty or pretentious—it sort of makes me think of Audrey Hepburn and the Paris of Sabrina, which is not a bad thing. The scent doesn't seem to be very long-lived, but it's so good that I think it's worth the effort to reapply.

In the imp: Tangy lemon, sweet-spicy frankincense and dry sandalwood, with a whiff of clean freshness from the lavender fougere and sage. Not a strident lavender… and despite the description, this is really quite appealing. I can smell the other resins, warm and spicy and rich. On, wet: Frankincense, labdanum and sandalwood, dark and warm and resinous and spicy, but it's still lightened for me by the lemon peel—slight, bright lemon—and hints of sweet lavender. It doesn't really smell like "Cathedral" to me, but it does remind me very strongly of, say, the holy, incense-y smell of an Easter Vigil mass. (I suspect the common note is the frankincense.) I'm still not getting anything that I recognize as vetiver. On, dry: There's nothing thin about this scent to me—on the contrary, the resins are rich and the throw is exceptional--but I am starting to get the dark and shadowy aspects in the scent. I still don't smell vetiver itself, but there is something darkening the sweet, spicy-woody combination of the resins and the sandalwood. The frankincense and labdanum call to mind a church, but this is an eerie, empty, half-lit church, filled with shadowed corners, lingering incense from long-ago rites and the echo of your own footsteps. Later: Now, after several hours, it does have the "thin," sort of ascetic quality from the description—still sweet and woody and dark (mostly sandalwood now), but much less rich than it originally was, and now it's staying very close to my skin. Overall: This is a surprisingly lovely scent. I'd call it gender-neutral, too; I'm comfortable wearing it, but I can imagine a man wearing it as well. It shares certain qualities with Cathedral, but overall, I'd rather wear this one—it captures the essential ambience of a dark, old church without smelling exactly like eau de choir loft. This has freshness from the lemon, lavender and sage, where Cathedral has the dusty mustiness of crumbling paper and old buildings.

In the imp: Floral, but not girly at all—mature, I think, and quite haughty. Not as sweet as the presence of jasmine might suggest, either; the myrrh and rose unite to create a dark, piercing, ominous note, with the jasmine a very slight, sweet undertone—almost like it's fighting to be noticed. On, wet: Just more of the myrrh and rose, dark and corrupted. This isn't a wash-off, but… I'm hoping for some evolution here. On, dry: Myrrh and rose still going strong, although I'm getting some whiffs of jasmine as I move around. I don't get any when I sniff directly, though. (I wish! I'm not at all getting the heavy jasmine that others have mentioned.) Later: Okay, finally after hours, the myrrh retreats into the background and the jasmine comes forward and combines with the rose into a pleasant, surprisingly sweet floral, much lighter than the early stages. Overall: It's definitely a fitting scent for the concept—the early stage keeps making me think of Cinderella's wicked stepmother—but much as I love these three notes, I'm not sure I love the way they work here. The dry down is very pretty, but I'm not sure it's worth the hours of that off myrrh/rose combo, which is unpleasant, unsettling and oddly bitter. This also feels like an older woman's scent—it's just not me, thought it could be very pretty and regal on somebody else.

In the imp: Strong cedar, brightened by the citrus, with a hint of the labdanum below. I also get a slight sense of something… different here—not cedar, but something that's working with it. This is dark wood furniture, burnished by years of lemon oil—very homey. There's also a twinge of something that makes me think of brass. On, wet: Almost overpowering verbena and cedar. It really smells exactly like polished furniture to me. I'm also getting something else very earthy, almost dusty or musty, which is blending with the cedar. After doing some research, I think it must be the oud. No amber or labdanum at all, and for the moment, this smells a lot like the early stages of Namaste. On, dry: This one is a morpher! The cedar has backed off so that's it's nothing more than a deep base note (along with the oud), and the verbena is also toned down, so now I'm getting citrus over the sweet, golden amber. The amber has really brought this together, so that it's a nice, warm combination of sweet, tart and earthy. Labdanum is fairly absent, but this is still gorgeous. Later: Oud, with some light citrus and lingering amber: woody, fairly dry and faintly sweet. Overall: The verbena and cedar are very strong to start, but once it starts drying down and all the elements come together, it's beautiful and unusual: somewhat sweet, somewhat tart, somewhat woody, but still warm and grounded, with occasional moments that suggest the brass mentioned in the description. The beautiful combination of amber and citrus does give this a golden, glowing aspect, but I think it's the oud that's really growing on me. I had my doubts to start, but I think this is yet another win for me from the Steamworks.

In the imp: Soft and white is right on target, because that's exactly the sense this gives. Actually, I think the description is pretty much spot-on. Coconut is the primary scent, followed by the shea, but there's a milky, creamy quality to this, and a certain wonderful lightness that you don't always get with either coconut or shea butter—possibly from the water note? In any case, it's beautiful, pure and comforting. On, wet: Wow, does this one have throw on me! Given how good it smells, I'm not complaining. Anyway, the rich shea has actually moved to the forefront, supported by the milky, sweet coconut and lightened by what I can only assume is the water. It smells heavenly—not that saccharine, suntan-lotion fake-coconut smell at all, but more like being surrounded by the warmest, softest, most comfortable robe you can imagine, fresh and hopeful and absolutely clean. On, dry: This scent isn't a huge morpher. There's still tremendous throw, and the shea butter remains the top note, though it's blending with the coconut into one creamy, sweet scent. The aquatic note is a really subtle thing here, flowing under the milky shea-coconut, providing balance—and maybe a tiny hint of salt. So now I'm still feeling like I have on that warm, clean and comforting robe, but I have a view of the ocean and a white sand beach, too. Later: Still shea butter-coconut-ocean, and it smells… well, divine. If you hate any of those components, you're unlikely to like this scent, but otherwise, I think it's fab. Bonus: massive throw and staying power. Overall: It's a perfect summer perfume for obvious reasons (hello, coconut/shea/ocean=insta-beach), but I'd love it at any time. It's like a warm embrace in a bottle. It makes me feel very calm and content, and I can see the connection between Obatala and laughter, because this makes me want to smile and laugh out of sheer joy. I originally ordered this with my mother in mind—and now I know she'll adore it—but I think I want some for myself, too.

In the imp: Fresh, herbal (but NOT astringent) lavender, softened with the jasmine and rose. There's a suggestion of spice, but it is very subtle. On, wet: Still lavender, but now there's more jasmine and dark rose… and something else tangy and floral that must be delphinium. More spice, too, and the musk is coming out nicely. I'd call this feminine and graceful, but not "girly"—it's lovely but on the unsentimental side, poised and assertive. Solemn, but not grim, and not without a sensual aspect, courtesy of the musk. On, dry: This is really melding very well. The lavender has moved to the background, and now I'm getting more rose and soft musk and plenty of witty spice, with an occasional peep from the jasmine. It's deep and complex, but the elements play really nicely together. Later: Mmm, this just gets lovelier and lovelier as it goes on, with all the elements blending into one harmonious whole: softly sweet, gently spicy, tied together by the powdery musk. At this point, it's difficult to pin down a single note. Overall: I really like this one—it is a scent of "wisdom" to me, but it's a holistic, spiritual sort of wisdom that transcends books (although this is plenty intelligent). It's an elegant, accomplished gentlewoman's scent, the sort of thing that I can easily imagine Rowena Ravenclaw wearing. I didn't think the lavender was strident at all, but your mileage may vary.

In the imp: Holy spice rack, Batman! This is sweet spices and sweeter tobacco, with a whiff of black tea. Right now, there are too many spices for me to pick them apart, but it does seem to be true to the concept: eclectic and spicy. On, wet: Tobacco is really the strongest note to me, smoky-sweet and earthy, but I can also smell the more astringent tea in there, cutting back on some of that sweetness. The spices are still mostly a jumble, playing around against all that tobacco and tea. I'm primarily getting cassia/cinnamon, allspice and clove, I think, but they're all in there. Somewhere. On, dry: This is the scent of a very old-fashioned dry goods store to me, with all the aromatic spices and ultra-sweet pipe tobacco and dry tea leaves in their canisters. Tobacco is still the top note, but the tea and spices are starting to blend into a sweet-spicy-dry whole. I don't get much sandalwood yet—it's probably acting as the base for all the other notes, but it's hard to detect here. I know a lot of people have mentioned holiday potpourri-type scents, but it doesn't smell like that to me—the tobacco is much too prominent for this to be anything like craft store potpourri. Later: Okay, finally the tobacco and sandalwood have switched places, and that's the key. The sandalwood is tying everything together into a spicy, very lightly woody fragrance that smells almost exactly like strong chai tea. Mmm… very warm, dry and comforting. Perfect for autumn or winter, I think. Overall: Great execution of the concept, and it's pleasant to smell—the tobacco note plus the spices is just on the right side of my tolerance for sweetness, but it doesn't cross the line, so it's all good. I'll be keeping my imp for those days when I want something purely spicy, though I don't think this is a big bottle purchase for me—a little goes a long way, and I can't imagine wearing this one year-round.

In the imp: Loads of lemongrass—that's by far the dominant note and it's assertive. Good thing I like lemon. It's not so much a bright lemon, as with Embalming Fluid or Manhattan, and I think part of that is the way it combines with the cedar—it creates the impression of dark, fragrant wood polished with lemon oil. There's a definite undercurrent of patchouli, and when I really concentrate, I get a bit of the jasmine and rose, but not much. I don't really smell any sandalwood, and the blend is much less sweet-and-woody than expected. On, wet: Still mostly that lemongrass-and-cedar combo, very heavy on the lemon. There's also a very earthy quality from the patchouli. Again, when I concentrate I can pick up just a touch of jasmine's heady quality, but none of its sweetness. On, dry: Now it smells like what I'd imagined it would: calm, pretty and nicely blended, bright but grounded. The rose and jasmine have come forward and melded with the lemongrass, so that the florals aren't too sweet and the lemon isn't strident. The cedar, patchouli and sandalwood (finally showing up) give this a nice, earthy base that isn't overly woody. The sandalwood is still faint, but that's the sort of note that always comes out for me much later. Later: Primarily rose—sweetened by a hint of jasmine, brightened by the tart lemongrass, deepened by the patchouli and woods. I'm also getting a very subtle hint of spicy sweetness from the sandalwood, which is beautiful. It's a very light fragrance now, and it doesn't seem like it will be a very long-lived one on me, but it is very calming and balanced. Overall: I expected to like this one, wibbled over the aggressive lemongrass scent while it was wet—and ended up liking it, despite it being quite different from what I'd imagined. When everything comes into balance, it's a beautiful perfume—sensual in a very understated way. It glows with well-being, and it definitely does lend an air of grounded contentment. It has relatively little throw on me, but I'm not sure this is a perfume that you want everybody to notice--it seems like the kind of thing you wear for yourself and want to keep close to your skin.

In the imp: Citrusy jasmine and orange blossoms, with a cool touch of lavender lurking in the background. It's a very bright, breezy, lighthearted scent—mounds of soft white blossoms with a potent citrus kick to take the sweet edge off the florals. Summer in a bottle. On, wet: Heady orange blossoms, with strong lemon and somewhat softer lavender keeping it from achieving true sweetness. Jasmine is very light and in the background. I get a sense of very fresh green herbs as well, like they've just been crushed underfoot. On, dry: Oh, love! Did I say that this was like Summer? Forget that. Once the heavenly jasmine and thyme come out to play, this smells like Easter to me, all white and yellow with a touch of green. It's loads of clean white flowers, while the citrus has backed off so that it's adding just the right amount of sunshine and brightness, holding those flowers in check. Underneath it all is a green, grassy herbal base that comes from lavender and the finest thyme note I've ever smelled.. Later: The thyme and lavender stay the longest, with a light, lingering scent of the pure white flowers. The citrus is mostly just a memory now, but this is still very nice. This is such a great lavender note, not at all harsh or sharp. Overall: This was a frimp from the lab, and it exceeded every expectation I had for it. The citrus is a bit strong to start, but once that jasmine blooms, everything comes into balance perfectly and it's the nest best thing to a vacation on a sun-soaked island in Spain. The scent is light and clean, tart-sweet and joyful. Brilliant throw, too—not so much as to be obnoxious, but enough to trail a bit of paradise with you wherever you go. (I've had a number of compliments today!) I've never been to Santa Eularia Des Riu, but if it's anything like this, I want to go to there.

In the imp: Sweet-spicy and a bit fruity-floral, with definite treacle and apple cider notes and a little tang of red wine (though it comes off like hard cider or Apple Jack). There's a Harvest quality to it. On, wet: Much more of the spicy carnation, but still with sweet treacle and fruity, boozy cider. And although it sounds crazy, there is a dark note here that makes me think of black ink. Later: This is really surprisingly sophisticated. There's sweetness from the treacle, ripe fruitiness from the cider, spicy floral from the carnations, but the amber pulls it all together. Overall: I like it, but I'm not sure that I love it. It definitely has an Autumn vibe to me, due to the spiciness of the carnation and the boozy cider/wine notes, but warm, spicy apple cider, while very enjoyable, is not so much my thing.

In the imp: Smells like exactly what it says it should: a blend of incense. It's spicy-sweet at first whiff (smells mostly like frankincense), but there's a bitter undertone that seems to come from myrrh. There's cedar, and there are other resins in there as well, but it's difficult to separate them. Doesn't smell precisely like the incense I associate with church, though. On, wet: Okay, yes, it's church-y now. Very woody, lots of cedar with plenty of myrrh there… and something a bit earthy, like old buildings, and a crumbly, dry scent that I associate with old paper, books and sheet music. This is the smell of the darker, "backstage" areas of a church, where the stale incense of decades lingers on, like the rectory and choir lofts. On, dry: I can't get over how much this smells like a church to me. Not only do I smell incense and old paper and old building, but I swear I'm getting candles and wood polish. (Can't tell if that's in the scent, or if my memories are just supplying that themselves!) In any case, yes, very like the parish church of my youth, which is not a bad thing. This makes me think of choir lofts and Easter Vigil and Christmas pageants. Later: Mmm, now it's sweet and resin-y and mellow. It doesn't smell like a church anymore, but it is pleasant. Overall: This is so dead-on for the concept that I'm in awe. It really is an old church in a bottle! That said, I'm not certain how often I want to smell exactly like a choir loft, so this one might be better as a room scent for me. It's very evocative, but if I want to wear something churchy, I'd rather have The Scales of Deprivation.

In the imp: Mmmmyrrh! Surprisingly sweet and spicy, with notes of honey, sweet wood smoke, incense and the green balsam and herbs. Weirdly, it does smell funereal. What's weirder is that it's quite appealing and warm, almost golden. On, wet: Still sweet, but I'm getting less honey and more of the balsam, wood smoke and incense, in that order. There's some fresh green bite here, but it still smells ceremonial, funereal. (I know, I keep using that word, but it does smell funereal—and I swear that's not a bad thing here.) It brings to mind the sweet oils and herbs and unguents used for anointing the dead, and maybe kyphi incense. On, dry: Now the myrrh and resins are balanced with the green balsam and herbs, and they're blending together in a river of honey: sweet, woody, a bit smoky. (Better than average throw on this one, by the way--it's potent and lasts forever.) Later: Warm, sweet, resinous and ancient, strangely comforting—which, given that Anubis is the protector of the dead, makes sense. The sweet/smoky/woody/herbal scent makes me think of clouds of holy incense and sacred woods and grand temple ceremonies. Overall: Beautifully done and a great way to capture the concept. My only hang-up is that the smoky-sweet quality can be almost a bit too sweet to me after several hours, even though I love resins and incense—may need to dab this one on sparingly.