lysistrata

Right after my exciting Bordello=Closet discovery, I tried on Tushnamatay. It smelled fabulous, and familiar. TOO familiar. Vanilla...sandalwood...something saffrony... OH MY GOD...IT'S UNDERPANTS! TUSHNAMATAY IS UNDERPANTS! Again, no wafty butter, but close enough for me! I can use up my imp now. What are the odds of finding two MB-equivalents in a row?! Or maybe I just have Monsters on the brain...

I just tried Bordello for the first time and I am in swoony love because it is JUST LIKE the dry stage of my beloved Monster Bait: Closet! The sweet boozy berries! That lovely throw! Yesssss! OK, so there's not all that much wafting buttery cake, but that never really lasted on me past the wet stage. But just toss on a dab of Beaver Moon or Midway and Bob's your uncle! Wait, Bob's YOUR uncle? Oh my gosh, he's my uncle too! We must be related! Seriously, folks, I am six kinds of giddy to find something so close to one of my favorite LEs. I had hoarded two imps of Closet and was broken-hearted to think that one day I'd run out, but now I can have my berryliciousness always! Fresh! Forever! Hooray!

I haven't ever had allergies before this summer, when I came to stay in the Southern English countryside for four months. The fields of canola oil and a vast expanse of foreign blooming greenery are doing a number on my upper repiratory tract. This is also the summer I chose to get into BPAL. So far, I've been really lucky in that few of BPAL's scents have caused allergic reactions, and none of them on my skin. I can generally tell an allergic reaction by a feeling of dryness in the back of my throat, itchy runny nose, and watery or swollen-feeling eyes. Snake Oil and O (both tried before my trip to England) caused this reaction in me, as did (more recently) Enraged Bunny Musk and (today, much to my great chagrin and broken heart) Dorian. I LOVE the smells of all four of these, but I hate that feeling in my throat and nose, which I've gotten from a lot of commercial perfumes before this, and which has been my reason for avoiding perfume in the past. Anyone have any ideas about commonalities in these scents that may have caused this reaction, so I know what to avoid in the future? It could be musk, but Antique Lace and Morocco don't do this to me.

This is an incredibly strong and potent scent. It's sweet vanilla with tangy sharpness. The instant I smelled it I agreed that it truly is the scent of sex, defiled vanilla. But the throw is so powerful that it's a little too much to take for a mild-scent wearer like myself. There is absolutely nothing subtle about this scent. Like Snake Oil, it made my husband cough and my throat close up, but there's so much to like about it. I've kept it around for a while hoping that I might layer it with something, or find some use for it. But it's just too damn strong.

This smells exactly like a Glade floral air freshener I used all the time in college. It was mainly rose and spice, very strong and heavy. Unfortunately, when I sniff Othello this Glade spray scent is all I can smell. Evocative, certainly. But I can't wear it.

On me, this smells exactly like one of those strawberry-vanilla-scented cardboard trees you hang in your car. Artificial, very strong, and very sweet.

As a huge fan of Bliss and Velvet, I was so desperately hoping for a really excellent chocolate scent in Tezcatlipoca. Alas, all I got was moldy spice. It smelled seriously rancid on me. I think patchouli is another enemy of my skin chemistry, as it has turned me off of every BPAL I've tried with it.

This is milk chocolate. In the imp, on me, wet, and dry. But not just any milk chocolate. It's really good MOLTEN milk chocolate. It wafts. Oh, it wafts. Simply, absolutely incredible. A warning: it will make you hungry for chocolate. When I layer Bliss with Velvet, I am in happy chocolate-perfume heaven. Yum!

Lemony at first, amping to X-Treme Lemon; almost Lemon Pledgy, much stronger than Embalming Fluid. There's a sugariness to it, and a slight undercurrent of pizza; I could swear I smell oregano in this. As with all lemon scents, it fades fast on me, and the jasmine makes it sort of soapy. Oh well.

I was hoping for lemon on this, and I did get a little lemony musk at first. But as usual, my skin ate that lemon right up, and I ended up smelling a little lemony-fresh and faintly incensy, like a shop in Chinatown that had left the door open to let some fresh air in.

This was a frimp from the Lab, and it wasn't to my taste at all. The ylang ylang and patchouli clinched it for me. Much, much too incensy-strong.

I didn't smell berries with this one, alas, just roses and grass. I had a grass perfume from the Gap once that smelled very much like this. The grass kind of overwhelmed the mixture on me. Just made it a little too sourly green for me to really enjoy. Glasgow ended up being what I hoped this would be.

This was a frimp from the Lab, and not a bad one, either. It reminded me a lot of the smell of my grandmother's house on the beach. I think it's the carnation. Light, sweet, and rich, with a slight seaside flavor. Gets sweeter as it dries. A little too sweet for me, but really light and appealing.

A very subtle green floral. The ivy keeps it from getting too sweet. Unlike many of the scents in my first BPAL order (I'm looking at you, O and Snake Oil!) this was not an allergy trigger. Not really me, though. Too grassy/planty.

Sweet flowers. Very mild. Girly. This was in my first batch of imps ever from the lab, and the above is the only written impression I have of Dormouse. It was pleasant enough, but nothing about it stuck with me.

Masculine. Leather and soap. Slightly sour - I think that's the pepper. If there's tea in this, it escaped me. No honey, no milk, no lemon. All I got was pepper, leather, and soap. Not for me.

Gah. Overwhelming sweet jasmine. Lots and lots of jasmine. I used to like jasmine, but I think it gets turned up to 11 on me, and its cloying sweetness just doesn't do it for me anymore. If there's vanilla in this, it got lost among the jasmine. Did I mention jasmine? Jasmine.

Roses, light and delicate. Summery. A hint of lemon. Subtle. This was similar, I felt, to Embalming Fluid. And unfortunately, it faded to nothing on me just as fast. I think my skin eats lemon.

I have one word for you. SANDALWOOD. After a few seconds the vanilla comes out, yum. But very, very strong wood. I made sure to order this in my very first lab order, and I can see why it's so popular. I love the delicious vanilla and wood in this. But, alas, it's just far too potent. It made my throat itch and my husband choke. Oh well.

At first, it's lemony, with a teensy bit of vanilla. Yum - delicious. But, alas, it quickly fades to almost nothing, except for maybe a tiny musk note. Severin is a much longer-lasting lemon on me, although it eventually dries down to leather. Also, The Apothecary in its early stages is very similar to EF.

In the vial: Exactly like orange-flavored dark chocolate. Yummy. On me, wet: Orange-flavored dark chocolate. Like a dark-chocolate-covered Orange Jaffa cake. Maybe a titch of lemon peel in there as well. And the currant, just sweetening up the dark chocolate. On me, dry: Mmmm. Want chocolate orange. Verdict: This makes me crave chocolate. Maybe it's not the best thing to wear on a diet, but it certainly smells yummy. I don't know that I'd wear it all that often, but it's fun to smell. Especially if you like orange Jaffa Cakes.

In the vial: Bitter orange herbiness. On me, wet: Sharp, herby/resiny bite. Slightly sour. Not pleasant at all. On me, dry: After an hour or two, the resiny nastiness disappears and - hey presto! - a sweet floral vanilla, almost exactly like Antique Lace without the linen. Verdict: I like this once it dries, but why put up with an hour or so of nasty green sharpness when I have Antique Lace and Beaver Moon for my instant vanilla fix?

Tea leaf with three mosses, green grass, a medley of herbal notes, and a drop of ginger and fig. In the vial: Grass. On me, wet: Slightly lemony, slightly herby. Just like Enbalming Fluid. On me, dry: A subtle tea and floral, reminiscent of Glasgow, only a touch less sweet and with a touch more tea/lemon. It's also got that slightly watery-herby feel to it that I love so much in Glasgow. Verdict: There's nothing wrong with this scent at all. It's subtle and delicate, and I like it, but it just doesn't do much for me on the whole, especially not when Glasgow does it one better with yummy blackberries, and Budding Moon does it with sweet apples.

In the vial: Lovely subtle flowers. On me, wet: Sweet, mild flowers. Subtle and beautiful. On me, dry: I'm getting a mild sweet apple among the blossoms once this dries. A very pretty scent: soft, sweet, fresh, and innocent. Then it disappears. Goodbye pretty apples! Verdict: Really a beautiful scent, but short-lived and possibly too girly for me.

In the vial: Eucalyptus. Wait, eucalyptus? On me, wet: GAH. Eucalyptus, and lots of it, with an undertone of vanilla. Bizarre combination! This reminds me of the mentholated Vicks I add to my steamer to clear the gunk out of my throat. On me, dry: Eucalyptus goes away, thank god, and here comes the amber. I can barely smell the pine in the background, but it is there darkening the sweetness. Vanilla holding steady. Wow, all of a sudden it's Haunted with vanilla in it. I could get used to this. Verdict: While hanging up laundry I kept catching whiffs of the amber vanilla on the breeze. Almost honeylike with soft sweetness. Mmmm! I like this! This'd smell fab on a man too - but why should he have all the fun? A keeper. EDIT: I wore this all day today, and I don't know how it happened, but by the end of the day this turned into CHOCOLATE. Swear to god. Where did it come from? Why? Who knows? It's as if the scent was going through instant evolution to keep from being traded: "I am refreshing Eucalyptus! What? You don't like that?! Crap! Um...Wait; don't trade me! Here's amber, you like that, don't you? Not enough, huh? Well, this oughtta clinch it for you - have some VANILLA! Oh, you like that, eh? I'm gonna blow your mind now - Have some CHOCOLATE! Ohhhhh yeah, you're mine now, bitch!" And so I am, Golden Priapus. So I am.