Invidiana

NOCTIPHOBIA Fear of nighttime. The vast, endless canopy of the night sky, dotted with cold, harsh pinpoints of light under a bulging white moon: If there ever was an "essence of night" captured in a bottle, this is it. I cannot begin to express in humble human-derived words how amazing this is. I don't normally spring for bottles of scents that don't have notes listed, but anything with that has the general idea of all-encompassing darkness is the big exception. This is so well-blended to capture that feeling of thick, dark night that it's difficult to pick out notes but I'll make some feeble attempt. There is no single note that dominates from the wet stage all the way through the drydown. I can detect lavender, but not the kind of gun-toting lavender that pierces your nostrils with no mercy. This is a soft, mysterious lavender that spins itself into a veil of what I'm assuming to be a dark musk. Definitely a subtle backdrop of dark woods here too, but while I can't tell exactly what they are (might be a bit of teak or sandalwood somewhere in here) I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that there's no cedar or cypress because my skin amps those to eleven. Possibly a hint of black amber or something close resin-wise anchoring it; there's a very slight smokiness on the drydown. There must be some night-blooming florals here too, not jasmine, but I feel it shares a few things with Midnight and I have no idea what a lot of the floral notes in that smell like on their own. Maybe evening stock, maybe nicotiana. Educated guess. In fact it is kind of like Midnight's older sister, kind of like Death is to Delirium in Sandman. In other words, if you like Night's Bridge, or my discontinued first love Midnight, run.

PHASMOPHOBIA Fear of ghosts. Whispers in the darkness and cold breath upon your neck: calla lilies, white sandalwood, snow rose, white amber, and iced wine. If there was ever a beautiful way to interpret ectoplasm, this is it. I love white florals and the lily note alone makes it an absolute win. There is some rose in the background, but it's not a dry or dominant rose that shrieks its presence out to the world. Think more along the lines of velvety white petals mingling with the heady (but not cloying) calla lily. It's all floral in the wet stage, and then as it dries down something moderately sweet enters the mix--that must be the ice wine. As someone who has actually tasted ice wine I can say that it isn't nearly as strong a flavor (or smell) as red wine, and while sweet enough, it's not saccharine. Same goes for the wine note here. It balances the ethereal florals and allows them to maintain that ghostly quality while still adding something extra. If there was any phobia here it was the white sandalwood. Some types can go bone-dry on my skin but it turned out there was nothing to fear because it's very soft and subtle. Phasmophobia conjures images of spectres in flowing white dresses forever haunting an abandoned attic. I do believe any self-respecting phantom would approve.

There's all manner of shenanigans in this year's pumpkin patch! Pumpkin'ized hybrids of GC BPAL scents abound! This one makes me think of a pumpkin centerpiece at Alice's tea party. It's surrounded by flowers, and alongside a pitcher of milk and a jar of honey. The creamy milk and golden honey are a natural match for the warm, sweet pumpkin, and the milk note works to make the already smooth pumpkin even creamier. There's just a hint of spice that warms up the scent as a whole but doesn't amp even on my notoriously spice-amping skin. As is its nature, the carnation adds a tiny bit of spice as well, but it's very subtle. The interplay of the foody and floral elements here is actually very pleasant. The florals of Alice, as in the original scent, are not overbearing here either (even the rose I swear). They add a feminine element to the whole thing, and I swear that "feminine" and "pumpkin actually can belong in the same sentence. Somewhere in the background there is just a bit of bergamot tea. This is more of a daytime pumpkin, the pumpkin you wear when you're going to meet the parents, perfectly nice and sweet with nothing scandalous about it. I can almost see it wearing Alice's bow and pinafore.

CLYTIE This Clytie knew, and knew she was undone, Whose soul was fix'd, and doated on the Sun. She rag'd to think on her neglected charms, And Phoebus, panting in another's arms. With envious madness fir'd, she flies in haste, And tells the king, his daughter was unchaste. The king, incens'd to hear his honour stain'd, No more the father nor the man retain'd. In vain she stretch'd her arms, and turn'd her eyes To her lov'd God, th' enlightner of the skies. In vain she own'd it was a crime, yet still It was a crime not acted by her will. The brutal sire stood deaf to ev'ry pray'r, And deep in Earth entomb'd alive the fair. What Phoebus could do, was by Phoebus done: Full on her grave with pointed beams he shone: To pointed beams the gaping Earth gave way; Had the nymph eyes, her eyes had seen the day, But lifeless now, yet lovely still, she lay. Not more the God wept, when the world was fir'd, And in the wreck his blooming boy expir'd. The vital flame he strives to light again, And warm the frozen blood in ev'ry vein: But since resistless Fates deny'd that pow'r, On the cold nymph he rain'd a nectar show'r. Ah! undeserving thus (he said) to die, Yet still in odours thou shalt reach the sky. The body soon dissolv'd, and all around Perfum'd with heav'nly fragrancies the ground, A sacrifice for Gods up-rose from thence, A sweet, delightful tree of frankincense. Tho' guilty Clytie thus the sun betray'd, By too much passion she was guilty made. Excess of love begot excess of grief, Grief fondly bad her hence to hope relief. But angry Phoebus hears, unmov'd, her sighs, And scornful from her loath'd embraces flies. All day, all night, in trackless wilds, alone She pin'd, and taught the list'ning rocks her moan. On the bare earth she lies, her bosom bare, Loose her attire, dishevel'd is her hair. Nine times the morn unbarr'd the gates of light, As oft were spread th' alternate shades of night, So long no sustenance the mourner knew, Unless she drunk her tears, or suck'd the dew. She turn'd about, but rose not from the ground, Turn'd to the Sun, still as he roul'd his round: On his bright face hung her desiring eyes, 'Till fix'd to Earth, she strove in vain to rise. Her looks their paleness in a flow'r retain'd, But here, and there, some purple streaks they gain'd. Still the lov'd object the fond leafs pursue, Still move their root, the moving Sun to view, And in the Heliotrope the nymph is true. Excess of love begetting excess of grief: heliotrope, frankincense, muguet, osmanthus, and neroli. I was born here to Greek parents and grew up with these stories, so the Great Duets in Tragedy series is especially meaningful to me since this mythology is s a part of my heritage. When it comes to florals, I tend to be extremely picky. There aren't many straight florals I like; I need my florals taken with spices, resins, musks or gourmands. Now take the florals in this, add frankincense and suddenly something magical happens. It turns into a golden, exotic blend with the frankincense shining at the fore and the flowers backing it up with a dreamy and sweet, but definitely not cloying, sweetness. This is not a dark and brooding frankincense (which I'm equally fond of) but one that I can imagine is the color of liquid gold. I can't pick out a single floral because everything is so well-blended, but they all merge into something exotically feminine. There is also something in here, something poignant but not bitter, possibly the neroli, that clearly evokes the grief of Clytie. It's a beautiful and very accurate evocation, and I'll treasure it along with all the rest of the scents in this series.

Mrs. Dunbar conducts her house of assignation, at No. 44 Grove street in the best manner. The utmost decorum is observed, and every facility is furnished to those who call for passing the time in the most agreeable manner. This is a first class house. A decorous, agreeable experience: crystalline vanilla musk, freesia, and white tea. Be still my beating heart. The vanilla musk had me at first sniff out of the bottle, and it only blooms on my skin the longer it dries down. This is more of a translucent vanilla as opposed to the foodier ones, but there is still something irresistible that could almost be called "delicious" about it. Ethereal freesia and white tea swirl into what is really an enchanting, almost fairy-like scent that would make me think more of a Victorian virgin ghost bride than a mistress of ill repute. I'm conservative with what I get backups of, but I had to get a backup of this one.

Puffy clouds of pumpkin candyfloss with a trickle of blackberry juice. What? I live all the way in New Jersey and I'm the first to review this? So I'm a notorious pumpkinphile, as some of you may know. Given that, it's probably no surprise this was one of the first Weenies I scrambled to order this year.In the bottle and wet, it seems to be just spiced pumpkin; it really needs some time on the drydown to reveal itself as "blue pumpkin floss" as opposed to strictly (still pretty damned delicious) spiced pumpkin. I have this dabbed on one arm and the proto on the other; I find the released to be sweeter and richer than the proto, with a more buttery pumpkin note (as opposed to the more squashy/fresh pumpkin of the proto) and more pronounced candyfloss and blackberry notes. Also, the proto seems to have more spice while the released seems to have no more than a pinch if at all (I do detect what may be a dash of cinnamon). The blackberry is not one of those cloyingly sweet and/or artificial berry scents at all but a real true-to-life dark, tart blackberry that adds a tart edge and even a wicked dash of evil to the sweet buttery pumpkin. The tartness of the blackberry also counteracts the sweetness of the pumpkin and candyfloss, with the candyfloss acting as a sugary support base for the two, not overtaking either of them but rather balancing them out on puffy sugary clouds as the description suggests. All in all it's a dentist's nightmare with a distinctly autumnal feel, which in a scent (for me at least) is an extremely good thing. If you're as crazy about pumpkin as I am, or just a foodie in general, don't miss out on this one because it's a uniquely delicious and very craveable variation on our favorite spooky gourd. :pheart:

Peony blossoms and vanilla orchid. We used to grow these huge fluffy peonies out back when I was a kid so this will always have some nostalgic connection for me. I remember sticking my nose in them and just inhaling, and the peony note here reminds me of just that: an airy yet sweet and unmistakably pink floral, a "pink" scent in the way that sweet pea and tea rose smell "pink" but a different type of pink fragrance than either. I hope I am making some semblance of sense so far. Now I cannot imagine this delicate scent being blended with a heavy buttery vanilla, but vanilla orchid is its perfect match. It adds that creamy sensual sweetness that I recognize from scents like Moonshine and Mist and Opuhi. The more it dries down, the more the vanilla orchid emerges to entwine with the peony into one harmonious creamy pink whole, thus the more I keep falling for it, right to my knees like that lady in the pink kimono.

The next house, No. 55, is kept by Miss Addie Blashfield, the dashing brunette, who has eight or ten boarders, both blondes and brunettes. These are a pretty lot of girls, of pleasing and engaging manners. It is regarded as a first class house, very quiet and orderly and is visited by some of our first citizens. Night-blooming wildflowers, indigo musk, black currant, and clove. Anything night-blooming is a win for me, so this lady of the night gets along with my skin chemistry very well. Something in it reminds me of my beloved long-discontinued Midnight. It's all glorious, heady jasmine (and possibly gardenia, possibly even moonflower) that you'd expect to find growing around haunted Garden District houses in an Anne Rice novel. The midnight musk and deep purple shadows of blackcurrant only makes it even more intoxicating. It's like jasmine-scented skin wrapped in a velvet cloak. Wherever the clove is, it behaves. While it must be adding something, maybe a the barest hint of warmth, like the debauchery behind the brothel walls, but stays distant in the background. This makes me want to go read The Witching Hour again.

THE BRITISH BLONDES In 1868, Lydia Thompson’s British Blondes took New York City by storm, introducing burlesque to the Americas. A cluster of hothouse orchids with smoky vanilla-touched skin musk and burnished golden amber. Complex and sophisticated, sensual and beautiful, and very "golden". There is no one element that really stands out above the others in this blend but they all harmonize together into something amazing. It isn't a screeching floral though the orchids are present, and it is not gourmand though the smoky vanilla musk is definitely there, merging with the mysterious and sexy aroma of orchids on a bed of sweet golden amber. It makes me think of an old-school Hollywood actress spraying on perfume from a tasseled atomizer before going off to a movie premiere. I sprayed this on my shirt and couldn't stop huffing it the rest of the day.

Opium tar and Damask rose. Do NOT be afraid of the rose in this one; on a blind sniff without looking at the notes, rose didn't even come to mind, but wonderfully sinister opium with a backdrop of something soft and feminine to balance it. It could be I'm amping the opium, since I do amp resins, which of course I don't mind one bit. The opium and rose just blend so well that it really just seems like a softer and more feminine version of opium rather than a distinct opium and rose blend. It's definitely an intoxicating scent, conjuring images such as a well-reputed manor overshadowed by specters of the past and a wholesome-looking socialite with dark secrets up her sleeve. This is already darkly lovely adn only going to get deeper and more mysterious with age.

ACHLUOPHOBIA Fear of darkness. Oppressive, stifling, suffocating, blinding: black patchouli, tobacco absolute, opoponax, and inky black musk. Menacing, in the best possible way. Let me explain. This is a scent that conveys the feeling, the very idea of thick, impenetrable darkness through the sum of its parts. You have to give this a chance to dry down a little before you can really experience its true beauty. Wet the first thing I get is patchouli but it's so much more than that. Patchouli just has that tendency to dominate the wet stage of things. It slowly starts to reveal its true nature on the drydown, like the many layers of darkness that make themselves known as the night grows deeper. The oppoponax has an almost syrupy quality to it, and by syrupy I mean dense and rich rather than saccharine--think sticky resin rather than sugar syrup. My skin does tend to bring out the sweetness in oppoponax but nowhere near cloying capacity. The tobacco gives it a pleasant (and very fitting) smokiness, and the dark musk wraps it in a sheer black veil of sensuality. Once you have one sniff of this you will get completely lost in it--and you might not want to be found.

AUTUMN FANCIES Faded the clover now ;-- sere and withered the grasses: What dreams the matsumushi in the desolate autumn-fields? Strangely sad, I thought, sounded the bell of evening; -- Haply that tone proclaimed the night in which autumn dies! Viewing this autumn-moon, I dream of my native village Under the same soft light, -- and the shadows about thy home. Dry grasses bathed in amber light, muted by gentle shadows. The moment I smelled this I imagined falling backwards into a sun-warmed field of golden grasses. There are some drier notes that I simply can't do, but the dry grass note here is just perfect. It's not that kind of suck-all-the-moisture-from-the-earth dry like some kinds of sandalwood, but more of a warm, autumnal kind of dry that's even comforting in a way. It's not woody and not even really grassy in the conventional sense, but closer to hay or wheat or something in that neighborhood. The amber also contributes to the "golden" current that runs throughout, and gives the grass note some mild sweetness along something of a honeyed undertone. Oddly enough I do pick up something playing the part of shadows here. I can't exactly put my finger on it, maybe some type of sheer, shadowy musk? It reminds me of that dry patch in my backyard I loved so much as a kid, just breathing in the scent of that and feeling the warmth against my skin.

Vetiver, you and I just can't get along...you overpowered everything as this dried down. I'll never know what lovely shadows this could smell like without the vetiver, but on me, at least, it overpowers everything, leaving just wisps of the other notes in the background struggling to make themselves known. That's what you get when your skin amps vetiver.

TREE OF LIFE Tree of Life, Gustav Klimt. Ash bark, Kashmir wood, tonka bean, clary sage, Spanish moss, cocoa absolute, King mandarin, galangal root, and matcha tea. In the bottle this is a little odd and sharp with an herbal and citrusy edge. However, like a tree in bloom, on my skin it morphs into something completely different--and amazing. This scent has elevated the classic pairing of chocolate and orange to new heights. It isn't foody per se but more in that lovely sweet and earthy vein of Brood XIX and Atlas. True that it's a little sharp from the matcha tea at first but upon the drydown that disappears entirely and is replaced by cocoa and mandarin on a bed of lush woods and earthy moss with a vanillic undertone of tonka. What I'm guessing is the Kashmir wood really smell amazing on me, deep and warm and sensual very much like oude. The mandarin is there though not a prominent citrus scent per se, more of a contribution to the overall luxurious feel of the scent. There is a bit of smokiness which I'm guessing is from the galangal, and the sage behaves in the background, not amping to herbal death but entwining with the moss to fill out the overall idea of a great tree rising from the shadows of the forest floor. I am so glad I took a chance on a bottle of this unsniffed. It's gorgeous.

The house No. 112 Spring street is kept by Mrs. Palmer. It is a low establishment and frequented only by the lagends of the community. The dregs: muddied leather, ragged patchouli, cistus, fig, black clove, and rockrose spattered by rum and vetiver. Ah, vetiver. Why must my skin chemistry turn you into a perfume of ill repute? I love leather and couldn't wait to see the Victorian whorehouse version of it until you crashed the party. Even the clove here doesn't amp too much on me and I'm notorious for ruining things like Voodoo Queen because my skin will not love certain types of clove. The vetiver is the perpetrator stealing into the brothel and terrorizing the ladies. Trying to put the vetiver aside, I can smell that the leather and patchouli, splashed with rum to sweeten the toughness with a boozy kick, are the 19th century version of badass.

THE SEEKIMCacao absolute, hay, black pepper, patchouli, and incense ash. This is unusually yummy. You'd think these notes would be discordant, but everything just ties in so well. The cacao absolute and patchouli are the main players on my skin, both thick and deep and and lovely. It's like that Schwarzer Mond-type patchouli covered in bittersweet chocolate. Supporting this dusky deliciousness is just a hint of black pepper which gives it a bit of extra zing but doesn't go so far to be a piercing sneezeworthy pepper like Ebeneezer Scrooge. They hay note adds a certain cozy autumnal warmth which actually blends very smoothly with the other elements, and there is also some sweet resiny incense at the finish. I almost didn't chance this one because of the pepper, but so glad I did!

Dorian in the Pumpkin Patch There's all manner of shenanigans in this year's pumpkin patch! Pumpkin'ized hybrids of GC BPAL scents abound! Of course, first thing I thought when the update went live and I saw this: Puddin' in the pumpkin patch. References aside, who knew Dorian would go so well with pumpkin? Then again, pumpkin is a natural with tea. Take your favorite pumpkin tea, make it that much better than you could imagine and you've got this. It's all pumpkin wet, and then Dorian quickly comes through until they balance each other harmoniously on the drydown. The pumpkin is that same delicious baked pumpkin note I recognize from Theme in Yellow, dusted with just enough spice. The spice here really plays well with the rest of the blend, doesn't even amp on me and I can amp spice something fierce. It's warm, creamy pumpkin steeped in the aromatic vanilla tea of Dorian, with a hint of Dorian's characteristic fougere swirling in the background. Need I say more?

The Lake of Hate: blood musk, pink pepper, and neroli boiling in a seething mire of saffron. This had me at "blood musk", and as a big fan of Beth's blood accord, it lives up to any and all evil, sultry, blood-soaked expectations I had for it. It's basically the love child of Blood (GC) and Oceans of Love and Millions of Kisses bath oil. It has that ridiculously sexy blood note entwined with come-hither musk (there has to be red musk in here somewhere), but it's also so much more than that. Neroli gives it a heady, almost honeyed feel that receives a sensual warmth and flame from the saffron. If I hadn't known there was no honey note in this, I would have guessed there was. It's a scent that burns with two colors of fire. Whereas the blood musk and slight bite of pink pepper give this moon its red fury, the neroli and saffron swirl the Lake of Hate with molten gold. Seething and boiling indeed, but in a really good way.

MENACING IONOSPHERIC RESEARCH INSTRUMENT Bright, gleaming weapons Are housed out in broad daylight Squishing my brain waves. The HAARP research facility in Alaska houses top secret weaponry that is utilized to down aircraft and trigger massive power outages, for meteorological manipulation, and to instigate "natural" disasters. The power housed at HAARP can be used to control minds and produce effects in humans that are indistinguishable from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Gulf War Syndrome. Electrically charged white amber, violet, sage, mint, and neroli flanked by dazzling metals and shining wires. This starts out as a very sharp herbal metallic mint and pretty much stays that way through the drydown. I was hoping the white amber and violet would be able to save they day but they weren't able to do me any favors this time. They were both just completely overpowered by mint and sage and something very similar to the "electrical fire" note I described in Aurora Spacesihp Takes a Dive but with more of an electrical/ozoney rather than a burning feel. It does indeed evoke "dazzling metals and shining wires" , but the olfactory "shine" is so bright, at least on my skin, that it's almost blinding, much like Volt but without the leather and less masculine. As it dries down further, it settles into metal/ozone, mint and sage, in that order. I imagine it would be a brilliant scent for people who really like those blends that have you wide awake in half a second, but it's just not for me personally.

Being Greek of course I had to get a perfume named Clytemnestra. This definitely doesn't disappoint; it's a shadowy, scent worthy of its namesake. There is rose in here, but it's a dark, velvety rose that is soft and subtle, no dry screeching rose that makes me sneeze. It could possibly be white rose too, which I may have interprted as dark because of the other dark florals. The rose really just lays a backdrop for other dark and exotic florals--to my nose it seems like tuberose and a dark type or orchid though I could be wrong. There may even be a hint of violet. These are really the stars of the scent along with a bit of dark fruit that I'm taking to be blackcurrant, maybe even a hint of plum; there is definitely a "purple" feel here but it's more like a purple-tinged twilight rather than a juicy/fruity purple. It actually reminds me of Autumn and Winter without the cold/fallen leaves elements with the gauzy, enigmatic quality of Kataskopia that I adore.

I really, really wanted to love this because--ectoplasm! Ghostbusters! Unfortunately my skin doesn't let me because it amps all lemon verbena, all the time. My best guess, taking my body chemistry aside, is that this is related to Embalming Fluid with that lemony, slightly green finish but much stronger. I think, that under all the lemon verbena being amped, there is white musk somewhere in here. I'm also wondering whether it's only lemon verbena I'm amping or also elemi, because there is a slightly bitter undertone here that I often get from elemi which strangely mimics real-life lemon peel, but doesn't show up on me that way from lemon peel notes in a blend. There is also something slightly sweet countering that--not vanilla, my best guess would be either some sort of sugar note or the sweetness of a resin. I appreciate how Beth tried to capture that eerie yellow-green color we often associate with ectoplasm in a bottle, but my skin just can't cooperate enough to pick out all the facets of the scent. *This was part of a set of protos all titled "seance"-something out for testing at NYCC. Not sure what collection this belongs to--mods, please go ahead and add it if you know!

CONEY ISLAND CREEK The scent of silty, thick water, mud flats, and rusted ancient shipwrecks. This actually doesn't smell muddy and swampy at all but like a fresh green aquatic with a good dose of salty sea air. It's not really for me but I can appreciate how it sticks to the inspiration without actually smelling like mud and rust. If you like sea breeze type scents you will love this one.

THE ARBOR He seems to be a god, that man Facing you, who leans to be close, Smiles, and, alert and glad, listens To your mellow voice And quickens in love at your laughter That stings my breasts, jolts my heart If I dare the shock of a glance. I cannot speak, My tongue sticks to my dry mouth, Thin fire spreads beneath my skin, My eyes cannot see and my aching ears Roar in their labyrinths. Chill sweat glides down my back, I shake, I turn greener than grass. I am neither living nor dead and cry From the narrow between. (Sappho, translation by Guy Davenport) Shuddering, thundering, passionate: red musk, East African red patchouli, tonka bean, white gardenia, black narcissus, champaca flower, Roman chamomile, and massoia bark. This throbs with passion like the poem: the initial thunderclap of red musk remains prominent throughout, but as it dries down it allows the beauty of the other elements to shine. The floral element here holds its own, with the shadows of black narcissus counterbalanced by the lovely humid exotic feel lent to it by the white gardenia and champaca flower, all shot through with a vein of sensuous red patchouli. The tonka and massoia bark make for a warm, slightly sweet and slightly woody undertone. I don't really amp chamomile, so it isn't that prominent on my skin; it's probably intermingling with the florals. Red musk lovers, you cannot miss this one. Cannot.

An eccentric genius and leader of the superhero team The Paradigm, Qubit can meld and shape technology with a gesture, allowing him to create whatever he can envision. Gleaming metal, electrical discharge, and a whiff of tinny cologne. I knew this wasn't going to be my thing personally, but I'm always up for trying things, especially when they're right in front of me on the Lab table. It's very much like a bracing burst of fresh air at first sniff. There is definitely lots of ozone, to the point that I actually feel there's a sharp crisp wind hitting the tip of my nose. It definitely is the metallic scent the description states, though metallics usually don't come out very "metallic" per se on my skin but either ozoney or incensey, and this was the first one. As it dries down further I get the hint of cologne, which is the fresh and aquatic type. I'm not exactly sure what comprises the "electrical discharge" but there seems to be a kick in it somewhere--not pungent or unpleasant, just a sort of olfactory spark that sets your senses awake. I would say it's pretty unisex. Not really for me, but glad I got to try it; I can imagine I'd enjoy smelling it on a boyfriend when said boyfriend actually materializes.

When I first smelled this I immediately thought leather, paper and ink--which I was dead on about--but there was something else, something sinister int he background that I just couldn't figure out. I didn't have a list of notes in front of me at the time but actually reading them for the first time, I see what it is that I had a hard time putting my finger on. It was the ghostly chill. Kind of like Beth's snow note, but more....evil, if you will. I love anything that smells like old books, especially haunted old books, so this is right up my dark and twisted alley.