boomtownrat

This represents 2011, the year I got into BPAL. I got the bottle yesterday and let it rest until tonight before giving it a skin test, but I did smell it yesterday and it has settled down quite a bit since then.

There's something in Pottery Phoenix that I smell in all of the other anniversaries I have. I looked up all the others and there's no listed note that they all have in common, which leads me to think that either I'm just interpreting them all in a similar way or there's a common unlisted note in there somewhere.

Pottery Phoenix is a warm, sweet skin scent. It's blended well, so no one note dominates. I see myself wearing this more in the colder, darker months because it's the scent equivalent of a fuzzy blanket and my favorite spot on the couch.

Blends with fewer notes usually work best for me and this is no different.

Fresh from the mailbox, this is like a slightly less loud Baghdad. It's a scent for nighttime, to be worn sparingly. About five hours ago I dabbed a small amount on one wrist, rubbed my wrists together, and still have a waft of slightly heady, resinous, spicy rose that is plenty potent for me. One bottle of this will last me forever.

I bought this because I like Baghdad, and because I have an ancestor named Melchior. It's not the sort of thing that I will wear most of the time, but if I want something sophisticated with a lot of presence, this should be excellent.

 

For now, neroli and clove are the stars of this scent, with a base of opoponax and vetiver. It's not a patchouli-heavy fragrance, though time might bring that note forward a bit more. I feel that the orange blossom and lemon make the briefest appearance when it's first applied. It's kind of cozy and appropriate for cooler weather, without a lot of throw, but it has good staying power on me. Even though there's no wood in it, I can feel the wooden floorboards that creak beneath the narrator's feet as he goes about the week before committing the murder.

There's something familiar about this, maybe like a soap that I once used, and yet it doesn't actually smell at all soapy. It feels somehow more expensive than it is. I think it would suit all genders.

I have to say that I don't get any impressions of madness, but maybe I'm just a little too familiar with madness to notice.

Valuable, Powerful, Deserving is a beautiful skin scent with staying power. It's not at all creamsicle-like on me. The amber, wood, and orange blossom combination reminds me of a much softer sister to A Bright Flame Between Two Jacinths, which is one of my favourite anniversary scents. I love what it represents and I think it's going to be perfect for occasions when I want to feel more powerful or sophisticated.

 

Edited on 6/29/2018: I reached for this today as a kind of security blanket, since there is even more reason to protest. It's no longer similar to Two Jacinths at all, and I'm getting more of the vanilla in "vanilla oudh." There's also more amber, which is always a good thing as far as I'm concerned. It's still not a creamsicle but it's closer than it was. I don't have anything else like it.

I'm a red velvet cake fiend. Eating too much of it is bad, but I'm also happy to smell like it. So far the most authentic red velvet cake scent for me has been Cake Smash, but I've only got a decant of that and I'm hoping for something more readily available. Heck on Wheels was a blind bottle purchase directly from the Lab.

When I open the bottle it's just like unwrapping a big, fat piece of pink bubble gum. The red velvet cake note from Peppermint Cream Cupcake peeks out just a little when I put it on, and it's almost like a cupcake with a layer of bubble gum-flavored frosting. If I stick my wrist directly under my nose there's a sort of faintly musty smell, but the throw is a pink and red sugary cloud. I find that it's truest to the description if I apply it in the crooks of my elbows.

On the day it arrived, I was so excited that I couldn't wait for it to settle. I can't say how close that was to what it's going to be as it ages, but I can tell you it's got a medium throw and lasted for at least six hours. On a side note, I put Do You Like Clowns? on while there was still a trace of Heck on Wheels, and they're not bad together if you really want a sugar overload.

Most of the Lab's foodie scents get more foodie with age, at least for me, and the bottle only arrived two days ago. Everything that's sweet smells pretty different on me depending on the time of the month, the weather, what I ate, and even my application method (sweeter when I dab it on with a finger than from the rim of the bottle). I may well be editing this review sometime down the road.

While still wet, this is a bitter, deep red apple soaked in liquid evil. It's just the thing for a spring day when you want to smell just a little unclean.

 

Unfortunately, as it dries there's something that gives me The Quease, a surefire indicator of an impending migraine. I had to wash it off quickly to keep it from going any further.

 

Those first few minutes were wonderfully tart and made me feel a bit like a bad girl pretending to be good.

Something about Snake Skin smells like Snake Oil + cherry--not the cough syrupy kind of cherry note, but real cherries. I think this is my brain misreading the combination of the leather and the vanilla, because when I huff more deeply I can tell that it's leather mixed with Snake Oil. The notes are blended perfectly and I believe it's going to age as fantastically as all the other Snake Oil variants I've tried.

 

It doesn't last as long or have as much throw as regular Snake Oil does on me, but while it lasts, it's infinitely huffable. This will definitely be a multiple-backup purchase, just as I thought it would be.

 

ETA: Almost a month later, the cherry is still kind of present, but it does smell like Snake Oil plus leather. It's still more subtle than regular SO. I'm still gonna buy a second bottle, maybe more.

 

Edited on 10/10/2017: I no longer get any cherry from Snake Skin, but what I do get is so good I don't know if words could do it justice. If you wanted something that smells like Snake Oil has soaked into the neck of your favorite leather jacket, I think you should get your hands on a bottle of this now. After eight months it's already this good. Just thinking about what a year or more will do for this scent, I wish I had bought more than two bottles.

If you're like me and you can't wait to smell your BPAL as soon as you get it into your hands, don't worry about Mors Syphilitica. Yesterday she was still upset from what must have been a rough journey, but she had a good night's sleep and now she's sweet and well behaved.

I know there's no orange blossom listed in this, but somehow that's what I get at first. That must be the saffron. Just one dab on one wrist wafted through the air beautifully, all sweet and feminine, but not exactly girly. By the time I got to work the woods emerged. Now it's closer to the woody skin scent that I was expecting, so I added a dab to my throat to see how it might smell on a different part of the body. The sweet, orangey overtone is still there, but it's much softer now. I suspect that it's going to morph into the woody undertone over the course of the day.

Even though there's something familiar about Mors Syphilitica, it isn't like anything else I wear even though I have fragrances with all of these notes. Red sandalwood comes out in Mors Syphilitica the way it does in Wanton, but I can't wear Wanton because it's too heady. Saffron is also in Scherezade, but takes a back seat to the screaming red musk--Mors Syphilitica is closer to what I wanted Scherezade to be, I think.

Most of my favourite fragrances have only a small number of notes, and this turns out to be true again. Mors Syphilitica is a red sandalwood scent that doesn't shout. It's sophisticated and wearable even for someone like me, who can't take a strong perfume.

Normally I only review something after I've worn it at least twice, but if I have a strong reaction (negative or positive) I won't wait. I'm reviewing Fake News on my first wear because it's remarkable.

 

The bottle is fresh off the mail truck, but I couldn't wait to try it so I rolled it a few times and dabbed some on the back of my right hand. After I was sure I could wear it, I dabbed a tiny bit on the back of my left wrist and my neck. You may think that's a lot for a patchouli scent, and normally it would be. With Fake News the effect isn't so overpowering. I think people can definitely smell me, but it's not shouting like other patchoulis do.

 

Fake News smells more upscale than my many other patchouli scents. The pink pepper pod is spicing up the patchouli, which is not the earthy, dirty-hippie kind. At times there's something Obsessionesque about it, which I love. I think that's the pink pepper and white tobacco.

 

#occupywallstreet is the protester chanting in the streets, and Fake News is that same protester who went on to a career as an investigative journalist. Fake News can go to parties that #occupywallstreet would get kicked out of, but that subversive spirit is still there.

This is going to need a lot of age before I'll know whether I want to keep the frimp. I knew that the combination of balsam and embalming herbs would be risky for me, but I love the concept so I had to give it a skin test. Sure enough, it's true to the idea and I can see the inner sanctum of a pyramid, or the cozy study of an Egyptologist who's reading by candlelight late into the night.

 

The imp is still so fresh that it gives off a spiky, almost menthol quality. I think that this oil could be a thing of majesty if it ages long enough, but I'm not sure I'm elegant and regal enough to pull it off.

 

A little swipe on the inside and outside of one wrist, dabbed onto my other wrist, is more than enough.

Red velvet is my favourite kind of cake, and I love peppermint. I like smelling like a delicious dessert because I can get away with it at work, and because the notes in foodies usually play nicely with my sensitive nose.

 

The only experience I previously had with the red velvet note was in my precious decant of Cake Smash, which smells just like the real thing and not just like chocolate. My only peppermint scent is Lick It Softly. I wasn't sure how much real red velvet scent I would get from this, given that it would be battling it out with peppermint for dominance, but I needed to try it and was confident enough to buy a bottle. After being lucky enough to get one bottle of the Chocolate Stout Cupcake scent last year before it sold out, I've decided that if there's a delicious-sounding dessert scent that I really want, I shouldn't wait on a decant.

 

When it's in the bottle, Peppermint Cream Cupcake smells identical to the real thing. Right now, in a bottle that's just under a week off the mail truck, the red velvet note isn't as strong on my skin as it is in Cake Smash. The peppermint is higher pitched than it is in Lick It Softly, but it doesn't stick around as long. After the mint fades, I'm left with a sweet but light skin scent. I'm hopeful that the red velvet will start to come out more with age, because I wore it last night and noticed that it's starting to smell more like the bottle when I wear it now.

 

It's great for work because people won't think it's perfume, but they'll probably want to know who has the mint candy.

Opening this bottle for the first time was like stepping through a portal to 1984. I can picture a plastic book bag clip that I used to have, which was dark purple with a mirror in the middle, and little holes around the mirror where you'd snap in tiny button charms. I can also picture my sticker collection, all my Breyer horses, and the purple ink pen that was also a bracelet.

 

When I decided to wear this today, I smelled like I had smeared fruit and sugar all over myself, but in a good way. The fruits soon settled beneath the sugar and it's close to what I once imagined Sugar Skull would be like. I'm going to layer it with Sugar Skull when I get a chance.

 

After suffering a migraine for the last two days, I needed this. It's not at all overpowering and it boosted my mood. Somehow, in spite of the images it evokes, I don't feel like an eleven-year-old wearing a perfume that was made for preteens. It's... a lighthearted scent for the eleven-year-old in you?

If you don't mind hunting down LE scents from a few years ago, look for Planting Moon. Mine is from 2013. There was at least one earlier version that I know of but haven't tried. It smells exactly like the garden my dad always used to have when I was a kid, from the roots in the earth to the tip-tops of all the plants.

My first impression: This is chocolate Snake Oil and I want to bathe in it.

 

My lasting impressions: Chocolate and cocoa notes generally trample all over everything else when I wear them, but that's not the case with Boomslang. I'm not really sure what teak and rice milk notes are like, but they're in the background behind cocoa and all of Snake Oil's vanilla and spices. Snake Oil, on me, is a scent for all times, seasons, and situations, and I think Boomslang will be the same way even though she's a little more mysterious. I'm still getting to know her, but upon first glance she is Snake Oil's sister who drapes herself entirely in deep red silks from head to toe. In spite of the cocoa, Boomslang is less sweet than her more famous sister and she stays closer to the skin. As she matures, I hope she will stay this rich and smooth.

 

Boomslang is what I have wanted every chocolate or cocoa scent from the Lab to be, but somehow none of them have been this good on me before.

 

My special skin chemistry oddities: Thanks to hormones, my skin is so volatile that I never know whether a scent I love is going to turn funky tomorrow. I'd be willing to take a chance and buy multiple backups of this, even if I have to wear it in a scent locket or in my hair.

I'm shocked that I didn't review this years ago. Saw-Scaled Viper was one of my first rare BPALs, a gift from a friend who had decided not to keep it. By the time I got the bottle it was already a few years old, so I have no idea what it smells like when it's fresh. (I'm about to find out, when I get my order of the new version! Eeee!)

 

Saw-Scaled Viper smelled just like sexy cinnamon cookies when I first got the bottle. It still does four years later, only more so. I get a picture of Snickerdoodles that are heavy on the cinnamon. Cinnamon and cassia are always loud on my skin, which is just how I like it, but the vanilla of the Snake Oil binds it to the red ginger and all the other spices so well that nothing really dominates. It's comforting and feels like how I was meant to smell.

 

As much as I adore Snake Oil, I would choose Saw-Scaled Viper over it if I could only wear one for the rest of my days. I could wear it constantly if I hadn't been hoarding it.

Scalia's passing inspired me to wear this today and finally review it. (Obligatory disclaimer: even though I didn't like his politics, I do feel for those who are mourning him.) I've had the bottle since it was first released and worn it sporadically since then. As it has aged, it's gotten smoother. I can imagine it becoming my second favourite patchouli scent after Goblin someday.

 

When I put it on while getting ready for work this morning, I forgot all about the cannabis accord. That's because I really don't smell it either in the bottle or on myself. There might be a passing similarity to the fragrance of The Good Stuff, but if so it's all snuggled up under the patchouli and vanilla. I've got quite a few patchouli scents from the Lab and this is probably the most subtle. On me, Ask The Nearest Hippie is a softer version of #occupywallstreet that I can wear without knocking people over. My boss, who has a pretty keen sense of smell and never fails to comment when I wear something with patchouli in it, walked right past me earlier and didn't say anything about it.

 

Heretical though it may be, I think I like this more than the Revenant Rhythm bath oil. There's just something so mellow and comforting about Ask The Nearest Hippie. I haven't compared it to Banshee Beat because I'm hoarding my precious decant. Goblin is still my #1, but this is good for times when I want a patchouli that's not as loud and sweet.

A friend was giving away imps yesterday, so I thought I'd give Daphne Honey a try. Honey tends to be a good note on me.

 

Lovely, sweet honey was almost all I got from this when I wore it yesterday. I took the imp, thinking it would be good to wear in early springtime. Today, it's a whisper of honey under what my brain is telling me is an increasingly loud, pinkish rose (because I don't know what daphne smells like). Florals are always hard for me to predict, but quite a lot of them make me feel sick or give me a headache. Unfortunately Daphne Honey is giving me a touch of the quease today, in spite of yesterday's great success.

 

I'm washing it off for now, but I'll keep the imp for a while and try it a third time, just to make sure this isn't a fluke. My skin chemistry is at the mercy of perimenopause these days, so for all I know this could be gorgeous again tomorrow.

After a year, A Bright Flame Between Two Jacinths is even more beautiful than it was fresh from the Lab. I don't need to put on much, just a dab on each wrist. Following an initial sharpness in the wet stage, it dries into a scent that manages to be sensual, comfortable, and sexy all at the same time. If I stick my wrist up to my face and huff it's a little sharper, almost animalistic--almost certainly the guaiac--but its throw is sweeter and almost powdery, but not baby-powdery.

 

It's a night in front of the fireplace on a soft bed of thick blankets and pillows with the one you love. The only light is coming from the fire and you're wearing silk pajamas the colour of dark chocolate.

When I first got the bottle nine days ago, I thought that in the bottle it smelled like a nice BPAL version of Bath & Body Works' Country Apple minus the chemical, plastic feel. I put it on and not much changed, although on my left hand I got a green note almost as if I could smell the stem. At the time, it was like a red apple with only the thinnest veil of candy coating.

 

Now I'm getting more of a fruit punch smell when it's wet on my skin, and as it dries it turns greener, more specifically apple and not just sugary fruit. Again, I can even smell the stem. Minutes pass and I get almost a caramelized note coating the faintly green apple. (Yeah, it's funny how this can go from red apple to green apple. My hormones are in flux, so I expect this could be different yet again in another nine days.) For a few minutes on the dry-down it reminds me of an apple scent that I associate with some kind of home fragrance my mother-in-law uses. Then it goes more autumnal and I can even detect more caramel at times, but then it fluidly dances back into red candy apple territory. Where I grew up, we called them red candy apples to differentiate them from caramel apples. This is kind of like a tray of both kinds, but none of them are dipped into the nuts. It's just nut-free candy and caramel apples, and then all the caramel is gone.

 

I haven't actually eaten a red candy apple since I was a kid, but during a certain stage of the dry-down it's easy to picture getting my first one at the circus in the old Charlotte Coliseum, way back in the '70s. The thing is, this isn't how a red candy apple tastes but how it smells, which is why it's not quite as sweet as I expected it to be.

 

It's an interesting and pleasant scent without a huge amount of throw. As cherrycherry said, this turns out to be a grown-up and gourmand candied apple.

I couldn't stand to wait for this bottle to settle from shipping, so I gave it a test last night and I'm wearing it again now.

The apple and tobacco are the stars of this show, and lavender and vanilla champaca are kind of peeking out from behind them, looking for some of the spotlight.

Last night it was a little more stereotypically "masculine" than I expected, probably thanks to the tobacco, patchouli, and maybe the lavender, but it didn't put me off because I dig some masculine scents now and then. Now that it's settled overnight, it's smelling more mellow and unisex. I can detect more of the lavender today, but it's still mostly apple and tobacco. I don't notice any orange blossom or white honey for now.

My 2011 bottle of Samhain is an apple pie wafting from the back of a flatbed truck on a hayride on the outskirts of a forest. Apple III is the walk to the truck on that brisk October afternoon to get to the hayride.

This does remind me of the Appalachian mountains in early autumn, as I hoped it would do. I think it's a little more of a daytime scent that would be okay for work because it's not heady. It's almost a skin scent. People who are afraid of the patch shouldn't be concerned, I think.

I confused this with another Wanderlust that's also got a two-word name and has notes I like, so I decided to give it a little test. Normally I make sure what's in something before I test it, but I had just read about whatever that other scent was yesterday and thought this was it.

My stomach churned almost as soon as the familiar aquatic tang hit my nose. Experience has taught me to make a run for the dish detergent when I smell it. Aquatic scents are the essence of nausea in a bottle for me, no matter who makes them, and if I don't scrub them off quickly enough I'll get a migraine as well. Washing this off took two different detergents followed by a coat of jojoba oil that I used to wipe the rest of it off, so at least I can tell you that it's tenacious. I'm just glad I only put a little bit of it on the back of one hand.

 

For some reason aquatic scents are always enormously potent on me, which is another reason I can't wear them. Before washing it off I noticed that it was a loud, salty floral aquatic. There's probably ambergris in there.

 

If you're into salty aquatics with floral notes, then you'll probably love this.

Three of these notes I love, and green musk I like. I always want to love dragon scents, but dragon's blood resin is usually too loud and floral for my liking, so I was excited to try one that contains no DBR.

A friend who went to Dragon*Con got this bottle for me on Saturday and I managed to get it from her the next day. Hooray for friends who can handle huge crowds, because I sure can't. In the bottle I got whiffs of greenness and a little hint of the sandalwood. Immediately I dabbed a test swatch on the back of my hand. Like Brylcreem, a little dab'll do ya. This has some good throw, but it's not a roaring dragon that will stomp all in its path or burn the place down.

Last night I mostly got green musk and vanilla with a hint of sandalwood, and it reminded me a little bit of a slightly animalistic Dorian. As it matures I'm guessing the tobacco will emerge more, since he's only a baby dragon right now. Maybe he's too young to indulge in tobacco products.

It's been about 15 hours since I put it on and I can still smell the musk, which is impressive. Normally anything I put on my wrists or hands will be gone in the morning, either worn off onto the bedsheets or drunk up by my thirsty skin. Today, the lingering musk is recognizable as the one in Palus Nebularum, but it's also a cousin of Li'l Menes' Feline Entertainments. I didn't get that similarity at all last night, but it's not a bad way for a scent to go out.

Now that the bottle has settled overnight, I've put a little on my opposite wrist. I'm still getting a hint of Dorian, only now he's morphed into a dragon, and that dragon sure has grown up fast. He's gotten into the tobacco now. As it dries, the notes all blend fairly equally. Time will tell if I've finally found my one true dragon scent, but it's looking good.

I think Recalcitrant Dragon would be great on any gender. For those who love Dorian or Jareth, I think it's a must-try.

Without waiting for it to settle from shipping, I rolled the bottle a few times and gave it a little dab on each wrist. Beeswax blooms forth like a handmade vanilla candle, the really good kind, nothing artificial-smelling about it. The candle's not lit, though, it just smells great on its own without burning. There's a hint of cinnamon bark. Clove is peeking out just casually, not wanting to draw attention to itself. The beeswax reminds me of The Lights of Men's Lives, so it's almost-honey but not as loud on my skin. Later, cinnamon bark and clove come through to give it a smoky tone. By this point I've dabbed more on my throat, and the overall effect of the fresher application with the dry-down is like I've just stepped into an oddities shop like Loved to Death and they've got candles burning in the background.

 

You know Imaginer, the Clive Barker scent? This is like Imaginer Light. It's got the same rich sweetness, but it's less intense.

 

I didn't get black tissue paper in my package, but I did get a lovely drawstring bag, so inky black it sucks in light and made of a nice velveteen material. What a perfect little package for this lovely scent.

Sinus Amoris is probably going to need some time before I can love it, but I'm not giving up because the bottle only arrived two days ago. Most of the notes blend into a woody scent with kind of a musky quality, and there's a noticeable spikiness from the red pepper on top of it all. That's not to say it's a strong red pepper scent, though, because it doesn't have powerful throw. As it dries some occasional sweetness wafts in and out, but there's never anything foody happening and it's a bit more perfumey than I expected. I think that's the myrrh and oudh talking. This is my first experience with champaca in blossom form, so I don't know how to identify the note. It doesn't seem all that similar to the champaca note I know. My hope is that age will bring out more of the incensey quality I wanted and allow the pepper to settle down some.

 

At the moment, it feels like I'm trying on the perfume of a lady who's far more sophisticated than I am. She's a bit "little black dress and stilettos at a cocktail party in a penthouse," whereas I'm more "black t-shirt and Doc Martens in an Irish pub" (or, more frequently, "t-shirt and skull-print lounge pants at home"). My skin chemistry is rather volatile, so this could all change when I wear it again.

 

Edited on 27 May 2015: I still don't get the incense and vanilla loveliness that so many other reviewers are describing. Champaca blossom seems to be nothing like ordinary champaca on me, and red pepper stomps most of the other notes. It's only been a few weeks, so maybe I'll grow to like it in time, but my experience with Raven Moon 2012 tells me this probably isn't going to become the beloved scent that I had hoped it would be. I took a chance on that pepper and it isn't working well for me yet.

Finally, thanks to stellamaris' review, I think I've pinned down what Kit reminds me of: Al Azif. I get a certain almond-ish quality from both of them. There's a tiny bit of similarity to Defututa, which I suppose must be the sandalwood. On me, Kit is very foody above all else, kind of like how I imagine it would be if I were eating almond cookies in that cafe in Tangier from the movie. As I'm learning, benzoin is a note that my skin likes to amp and I guess it's stomping out the dry notes. I like Kit but I'm surprised that he's so sweet.