Magda

While I love Somnus and Oneiroi, the one scent that puts me to sleep every single time I wear it is Laudanum. Actually, I shouldn't say that it puts me to sleep--it puts me in a coma. The first time I tried it was in the middle of the day after lots of coffee, I put it on and zzzzzzzzzzzzz...

In the vial: acrid smoke Wet on skin: charred resin with something sweet and the bitter aftertaste of nutmeg 15 minutes: This smells like really good root beer, the kind that makes your nose and tongue tingle. Beneath that is sweetly smoky incense. I can't smell poppy at all. 30 minutes: The poppy's coming out and it's sweetening into a spicy, incensey floral. Lovely. 1 hour: N/A because I wasn't awake after an hour. Talk about a soporific scent! Verdict: I love Laudanum, but I think I'll only wear it to bed--every time I apply it, it puts me into a coma. I think this is what the poppy fields in The Wizard of Oz must have smelled like.

Oh, so that's what people mean when they say a scent has gone soapy on them. It's a lovely, floral soap, but soap nonetheless. It was soap from the moment it hit my skin. I waited a few hours to see if it would morph into something non-soapy, but it didn't. It's so lovely in the vial, though, such a rich, creamy floral, that I think I'll keep it for when I get a scent locket.

In the bottle and wet on my skin, it's all earth and...algae. It smells like the lake I grew up on during the muggy height of summer, climbing up the steep banks, grabbing a handful of grass and dirt and laughing as we slid back into the water, green with algae at the shoreline and slimey on the rocks. After about fifteen minutes I get the scent of damp wood, which I interpret as dock planks since it reminds me so much of the lake, then it becomes the wet teak of a sailboat. It takes another fifteen minutes before the cypress appears, and there's barely a hint of flowers--I wouldn't know it was orchid if I hadn't read the description, it's just a dark floral to me, rounding out the scent. You'd think a premature burial would be unpleasant, but I love this scent. It's humid and rich, more wearable than I expected such an earthy scent to be. I ordered this bottle on a whim, just thinking I'd sample it and then probably swap it for something else, but no way is this going in my swaps box. I'm keeping the 5ml and I might just order another one since this is something I never want to run out of.

Straight out of the bottle, this smelled like paste. You know those jars of paste in elementary school that smelled so good you almost wanted to eat some? It's that same sort of sweet eucalyptus/sugar/mint combination. After about five minutes the paste scent fades off, which is good because while I like the way it smells, I don't think I want to smell like it. It becomes, like everyone's already said, rootbeer. But not just rootbeer, spicy rootbeer with vanilla, incense, and some spicy green hiding beneath it--maybe eucalyptus. I never would have imagined Chokmah to smell like this, but now that I've smelled it I can't imagine anything that could better capture that wordless "aha!" moment and flash of wisdom that signifies Chokmah to me.

The scent of misty forests, damp alder leaf, and the gentlest touch of white rose. I got this as a frimp with my last order and put off trying it because I assumed I wouldn't like it. I'm not that into green, leafy scents, and when I sniffed the imp it smelled like Pine-Sol. However, I try every single imp on my skin, just in case, and I'm soooo glad I did. I don't know if I even have words for how much I love Dublin. It smells like a forest. Not like a perfume that's trying to recreate the scent of a forest, but like an actual wet, sunlit forest. It's definitely a unisex scent, even if there is a hint of rose now and again sweetening it up. It doesn't smell quite like pine to me. I can't put my finger on the exact tree it reminds me of, but it's sweeter than pine. I don't know what alder smells like, so it could easily be that. Whatever it is, it's wonderful. I put it on 4 hours ago and it's dried down into a subtle green outdoorsy scent that's not at all overpowering like a lot of greens (especially pine) turn on me. I'm so glad the lab sent me this one to sample because otherwise I never would have known how fantastic it was. I've already put it on my list of big bottles for my next order. edited to add description

I like rose, but I don't love rose. Rose can often turn overpowering on me, or soapy, and it often feels a little too elegant for me--like I'm a little girl just pretending to be grown up and posh. I love Two, Five, & Seven. The rose is a sweet, sugary rose, and the hint of green grass grounds it and keeps it from being too glamorous for me. I feel like I could wear this to a nice restaurant with my best black dress but could also wear it with my overalls while working in the garage or digging in my garden. Sweet, wet, fresh roses and grass -- this is my favorite BPAL rose so far.

Mmmm, I like this one. I didn't think I would, since lotus often turns overbearing on me. In the vial and on my skin all I smelled was fruit--not even fruit, really, an approximation of fruit like in gummy bears. In just a few minutes, though, the amber took over (thank you, skin chemistry). It's warm and thick on me, amber with just a hint of lotus in the background. I don't get any citrus at all--it smells more like apricot. This is not an innocent scent on me, it's a warm, golden, womanly scent, rich amber and apricot puree with soft florals playing over the top.

In the bottle: fruity cough syrup Wet on skin: sweet lemon anise 15 minutes: When I was little, my Great Aunt Anna used to make these little red hard candies from scratch. I thought they were called "Anna's candy" since she's the one who made them. I didn't know they were really anise candy. Regardless, I loved them. I was crazy for those little red squares and I'd suck on one after the other until my tongue hurt. Absinthe smells like those little candies tasted, sweet with the black licorice flavor of anise and just a hint of lemon. 30 minutes: The lemon/sugar/anise scent is starting to become underscored by dark herbs, slightly bitter. They're the kind of herbs you grow in a little hidden spot in your garden and gather by the light of the full moon. 1 hour: Fantastic, spicy anise, hint of dark herbs, with a touch of lemon and sugar to make it wearable. Verdict: As much as I love the flavor of anise, I hadn't ever considered wearing it as a personal fragrance. I'm so glad I got this as a freebie from the lab because I never would have ordered it on my own and would have been missing out. This is going on the Big Bottle List.

In the bottle: Mmmm. This smells like Smut. Yum. Wet on skin: The musk is what makes it similar to Smut, but this is a completey different scent. It's much drier, without Smut's sweet, boozy note. 15 minutes: The longer I wear this, the more lush it becomes. I can hardly pick out seperate notes, it blends so well on my skin. It's musk for sure, with spices that I can't quite identify. Maybe a touch of clove? Maybe a hint of cardamom? 30 minutes: More lush, spicy red musk. Musk works great on my skin, so I'm loving this. 1 hour: It's lightened up somewhat, the musk tempered by the spices. I keep catching gorgeous whiffs of this when I move. Verdict: This is definitely going on my Big Bottle List. If you love musk and spice, this is a definite keeper. If you wanted to like Smut but thought it was too sweet or too boozy, give Scherezade a try because there really is a nice similarity between the two.

I love musk and amber, and musk and amber love me. They do delightful, enchanting things on my skin. Because of this, Haunted was a no brainer. Though, now that I've tried it, I suspect that musk and amber don't love me as much as they said they did. They were lying to me before. They only pretended to love me to get in my pants get on my wrist. Or maybe my skin chemistry's just off today. Haunted turned directly to Lemon Pledge and stayed that way for more than an hour, until I washed it off, feeling defeated and slightly betrayed. Oh, fickle amber and musk! Why have you forsaken me? I'm going to try this again because I'm convinced that amber and musk will really, truly love me if I give them a second chance. ADDED 7/28/07: In the vial and wet on my skin, this smells like lemon furniture polish, which is strange since musk and amber both usually work very well on me. Five minutes later, it's lemon furniture polish in an old lady's house. Ten minutes later, it's lemon furniture polish in an old lady's house and she's wearing powdery perfume. All day long it's just...variations on lemon furniture polish. And I wanted so badly to love this.

In the bottle: cold roses Wet on skin: bitter, herbal rose--almost medicinal 15 minutes: It smells like an amped up version of my moisturizer, the rather mundane Oil of Olay. This is not a bad thing, as I'm quite fond of the scent and I love the stronger rose/herb kick of La Belle Dame Sans Merci. 30 minutes: It's nearly gone, now. I just tested this from the rim, so maybe it will have more staying power if I slather it. I hope so because I love the dark green and rose combo. It's elegant without being overpowering, confident and feminine without being sweet. 1 hour: I can smell it if I put my wrist to my nose, but otherwise it's gone. What scent is left is just lovely, though--bright, clear rose and dark herbs (and maybe a little hint of muguet, I can't quite tell). Verdict: I'll slather it next time and see if the scent lasts longer that way. Even if it doesn't, it's worth topping up during the day. I love this--it's definitely something to wear when you want to feel cool, confident, feminine, and a bit ruthless.

Origin: Brienze was kind enough to send me an imp of this. In the bottle: Fresh, delicate floral with a resin base--so good, I want to eat it Wet: Immediately there's something sharp and biting, but it softens down quickly into peonies. What I thought was resin is turning into a light herby green. 15 minutes: It's simultaneously a wet and airy floral. I think it's the cucumber that gives it a wet feeling without being aquatic. 30 minutes: My nose is starting to twitch. Is that the sea lily? When I raise my wrist to my nose and inhale, the scent is so sharp that my tongue goes slightly numb. That, of course, means I have to keep sniffing my wrist over and over again to see if it's just as bad each time. 1 hour: This is turning too bright and sweet on me. I suspect it's the lily. It's not making my tongue numb anymore, but it's so sweet that I'm a little dizzy. Verdict: I so wanted to love this one, but I think it's a little too white floral for me. I prefer heady, bowl-you-over-with-lusciousness florals to delicate, ladylike ones. I'm going to try this again in a week to see if I like it better then. If it doesn't work then, either, I do know of a good home to send it too so that someone can love it the way it deserves.

In the bottle: Mandarin oranges, the tang of orange peel, maybe a hint of spice. Wet: Spice. Clove, maybe? Pepper? The orange is like an afterthought. 15 minutes: As this dries, the lilies come to the forefront. It isn't as thick as white lilies, though, it's red and orange lilies, tiger lilies, clean and fresh. The orange peel note has gone and beneath the lily is full, juicy orange pulp. It's warmer than mandarin or regular oranges, though, a little darker--maybe blood orange. Beneath that is just a touch of spice to keep the lily and orange from becoming sickly sweet. I can't quite place it. Cinnamon bark? Mulling spices cinnamon, not Red Hots cinnamon. It makes me think of coffee cake, even though the scent isn't at all foody. 30 minutes: My first thought as I raise my wrist to my nose again? It smells like kisses. Not literally, of course, but the scent reminds me of slow, intense kissing, the kind that goes on for hours. There's some sort of herbal/resin base asserting itself now. Maybe red patchouli? Lily is still the predominant note, but there's definite cinnamon and something incensey beneath it. The scent is very faint, now, and I'm afraid it's going to disappear. 1 hour: The lilies and orange notes are gone. Now it's just slightly sweet, powdery incense. Not unpleasant, but disappointing. I really loved the first half an hour of this one. Verdict: An absolutely beautiful floral while it lasted, I'll have to see if applying more oil at first makes this last any longer, or if I'll just have to reapply during the day. I really did love this at first, so I'm considering a 5ml if I can find some way to prolong the floral part of the scent.

Muscadine, black and red patchouli, cereus and nag champa. Origin: Brienze was sweet enough to gift me with a few imps to try, Urd being one of them. In the bottle: Sour incense, not good Wet: More incense, but sweet now, like drinking a grape-flavored slushie in a headshop. It makes me think of when I went to college in Portland, and at the Saturday Market some of the stores were so saturated with incense that everything you bought--shirts, trinkets, whatever--would perfume your dorm room for at least a week. It's a wonderful, heady smell, though I'm not sure how much I like it on me. 20 minutes: The memories of college are still vivid. I'm lying on my lofted bed with my girlfriend, listening to Bikini Kill, burning Nag Champa incense and studying for my Medieval Lit final. There's a hint of patchouli making this scent deep and lush, but it's playing very nicely with the nag champa and the muscadine, which is soaring brilliantly above the other notes. It doesn't smell like grape slushy anymore, it smells like the sweet, fresh winter grapes I had in Korea. I don't know what variety they were, I just know that you couldn't eat the skin and that they were the best grapes I'd ever had in my entire life. I was worried about the grape note, didn't see how it would blend with the rest, but it fits so perfectly and keeps the patchouli from being mean and overpowering on my skin. 1 hour: The notes have settled in and have become hard to distinguish. It's just sweet, smoky resin, now, perfectly blended. There's something else, too, something that makes me think of late summer... is it cactus flower? It's like the month when saguaros are in bloom. Verdict: I don't think I'll wear this as a personal fragrance, but I'm going to try it in my oil burner because I would love my bedroom to smell like this. If that turns out well, I'll definitely get a bigger bottle. Edited to add description, since this is the top of a new page. And, cereus! That's what the cactus flower whiff I got was.

The lovely Brienze decanted an imp for me to try--my first BPAL ever, which means this is also my first review ever. In the bottle: Bubblegum. Bazooka bubblegum. It's got a medicinal, sweet fruity scent. Wet: Wet, this smells like my grandmother's house, which is not a bad thing. Her house always smelled warm and safe, like sugar and caramel. I'm also getting just a hint of booze, which reminds me of my grandfather. It's weird how this scent transports me and suddenly I'm ten years old again in their seafoam green basement, my dad teaching me how to play pool while my younger cousins run around in circles. I don't get the musks, but that may be because they're so well blended, and I always expect dark musk to hit me over the head. Possible TMI: While the scent itself doesn't strike me as particularly sexy, my body is responding to this and I suddenly want to find someone right now to have a few rounds of hot, dirty, just-for-fun sex with. 10 minutes: Delicious vanilla and sugar with a hint of dark rum -- lovely. Wait, vanilla, what are you doing? Don't turn sour on me, please. I love you, vanilla, you can't turn on me, I beg you. Oh, OK, you're not going to turn sour. You tease. You had me worried for a minute there. Oh, ho, you're not vanilla at all, are you? You're caramel! Cheeky caramel. 20 minutes: OK, there's something sharp coming up. It's not unpleasant, just bright and slightly herbal. This must be the note I thought was vanilla souring on me. It's a sweet, fruity herbal note peeking out from beneath the thick caramel musk. Actually, it may be the musk, since red musk sometimes turns fruity on me. 1 hour: No, caramel, don't go. I love, you caramel! I didn't mean to call you cheeky. I take it back! Damn. Caramel's gone, and now it's just nutty booze and fruity musk, making me slightly dizzy. Maybe I should have just put this on my wrists instead of putting it on my neck, too. Oh, hi patchouli. I didn't even know you were in there. Verdict: Dirty, boozy, with a hint of sweetness to keep it from being complete porn. Not an everyday scent, but something I'll wear when I'm looking for a nice, long make out session. I won't go looking for more, but I'll definitely keep my imp.