jarvenpa

And when you have the info, one way or another, can you post it here, Morrighana? I sent an order foolishly during the move (with money order) to the Hillhurst addie and am suspecting it was never received. (*sigh*). Would be so happy to send another order, but I need to know it is going to reach the right people and be welcomed tenderly.

Oh, delicious. Pure rose, with tiny thorns. This is the best of the rose fragrances I've yet sniffed (let alone smeared deliriously over my skin). There is almost a mint fragrance behind the rose. This one was also a favorite of my fussy daughter--rare to find a scent we both like. And we do like this. A lot.

It is so reassuring to find a BPAL scent I don't like, because I was starting to think I was just a pure pushover: "yes, let me smell something!! Oh, Beth, I will fall at your feet again!!!!" (I mean, how tedious--and how will Beth ever be able to do her work if the ground is cluttered with fallen forumites in states of worship and distraction?) So, Greed--well, it brought to mind back alleys and waking up after a night of smoking too much and swilling bad whiskey. This is odd, because I've never smoked. First hit: yes, patchouli, dark patchouli, and then a whiff of burning rubber--ah, the cop car has squealed away down the alley. As it developed I kept thinking of stale ashtrays. Now, if I were addicted to tobacco, this one might have been exactly correct.

thanks to a kind forumite (thank you, thank you) I got to try a bit of snowblind today, in the midst of a heat wave... I see now that "vanilla" was the blend most smelled with the peppermint, but for me it was sheer chocolate mint in a silver wrapper, and very yummy (my favorite childhood candy!). The fun lasted a bit, then wafted into a cool sweet vanilla. It was extremely pleasant. Yeah, bring on the heat. I'm snowblind, I don't care!

a gentle gift This one is dangerous (besides being my favorite Sin). At first I thought--"oh, another in the Snake Oil, Snake Charmer group" (must have been the patchouli)--but it's not. Much more earthy. I'd swear it has a leather note in it, though none is listed. Goes on sharp, settles into wicked. No, I really don't want to break up any more marriages...but... Temptation is fun. Brilliant scent.

I believe this was a gift from couscous (thank you!), a little decant. And, as I've been locked into "ho hum, how can I avoid my real tasks for the day" I thought--well now, let's see. (I am still avoiding real tasks whilst writing this review, but I am feeling much more activated). It's vetivert, nearly pure. Fortunately, a scent I happen to love (it makes my family gag, but that might well be a secret weapon--I will focus on the tasks that require no interruption!). Nice to have on hand. (*leaves to accomplish much*)

another lovely sniffie from a generous friend. Hunger is the cousin of Snake Oil and Snake Charmer (I liked Snake Charmer best, but it's LE, so...). Vanilla and spice to my nose (I check the notes and am surprised to see neroli listed--my nose doesn't pick it up; I'm assuming what nose thinks of as spicy is the black narcissus) Haven't noticed it is provoking insatiable anything around me, but then I'm currently just with one of the dogs and some mostly well behaved cats. (One would not expect a cat named Jesus to be insatiable for anything except--um, maybe spiritual compassion or something. She IS looking at me oddly... Pretty, but despite my apparent love of vanilla, this one isn't quite me. Edited to update, because this scent, on its second wearing, literally stopped a poor innocent guy in his tracks. And I am growing fonder of it every moment.

True story: I slathered on Dee (thank you generous gifter...er, giftor??donor.) And then went onto my day of serving soup in the bookstore (we do odd things here). One young man, who insisted I take some sparrow-feather earrings in trade for soup (and they are nice, and I realize my hair is bird-feather color), stayed a bit to chat. After randomness he looked at me closely and said..not, "oh, lovely smell!" (I think the ambiant smell was rich soup, in any case)--but "You know--I'm getting this--feeling about you. You are--an astrologer!" (and I said "and you are pretty insightful" and we talked a long while). How appropriate to have Dee's scent on. It started with lavender, which was fine. I am fond of lavender. And then it was dry wood, sandalwood and cedar, also lovely, and then it was wafting sweetness, unidentifiable (sorry, naive nose here). It has lasted very well, settling into a mingled rich and comforting sort of fragrance, with a touch of what I thought might be vanilla, and a drift of flowers--or maybe dried flowers, pale, but evocative. Someday I may figure out why it is that the "gender neutral" fragrances seem to be the ones I most love. This one goes down on the "must always have around" list.

in a very generous gift from a forumite (pondering real name address, wracking mercury retrograded mind--who are you??? (thank you) came Anubis. Just happened to be the first I picked up this morning, and I sniffed (hmmm--sweet, spice, okay) and slathered. To tell the truth, though I am aware of the mythos around Anubis, it was the dog part that drew me here, and a time, long ago, I spent days in the British Museum amongst the antiquities, particularly drawn to a representation of Anubis, and a beautiful figure of a man holding out his hand, upon which a hawk delicately rested. These images come to mind as I sniff Anubis. It is a curiously comforting smell. I think deep amber, which I love, and honeyed fruit of some sort. When I look at the scent notes and see my friend myrrh, I am not surprised (I may not greet this scent with recognition, but many of my favorites have it in their mixture). I would have said sandalwood, probably, but I see none listed--something like pale golden incense. The sun is setting, it's okay. There's a guide here. No one will stumble. Some exotic flower has just burst open by the still river. This may well make my ever increasing list of favorite scents.

I think you could mix vanilla with nearly anything and have me going "oh, lovely". But I went searching to see what Vanilla Lust has (since I don't know this perfume) and came up with: Vanilla, coconut milk, neroli, caramel, tiare flowers, and sandalwood. Now the experienced BPAL forumites will come up with the perfect answer. Right?

a generous across the great seas gift from serafina p., who has my thanks. My Greek being mostly forgotten, along with the names of the Muses, when I put on Melpomene I had no idea what to expect. What happened, beyond the scent, astonished me. As the waves of sharp lavender and mint and something--green--first hit me, I felt overwhelmed with sorrow. This is the anniversary of the accident that took the life of a dear friend, many, many years ago. It was a life changing point for me. The grief was almost unbearable back then--my first real experience of it--and today I was in flashback upon smelling this fragrance on my skin. Wrenching pain. But I went with it. The pain started to ease: you can't always keep your griefs tidily tucked away. The fragrance bloomed with gentle flowers. I may not work with this one much, but I will work with it. Very powerful and healing.

According to my quick google, the fragrance Rapture is composed of "exotic florals, amber, and wood". Now go for it, those who know the BPAL fragrances well!

I smiled as I tried Neptune, remembering that Beth is well acquainted with the planet. This one is pure beauty, glamour, fascination. The first sniff was a bit sharp--maybe lavender? (*again wishes nose were more intelligent*) but then a complex and lovely dark bloom opened. This reminds me of a stage in The Sleeper that just caught my soul and heart--so maybe poppy? (remembering that that was a Sleeper note, and would be very appropriate for Neptune, who can lure us to the sweet and addictive) It's almost "this is the soul of the perfect perfume". The first hour the throw seems good (at least I find myself sniffing the air, not my wrists) and then--a different, almost powdery sweetness. Perhaps a musk--this is the beloved effect I associate with a number of my musk-enhanced favorites. Extremely beautiful.

another from the implet planetary set sent me by the good zenvodunista. The motto of this Mars is obviously "Make Love, Not War", which comes as a great surprise--but I love it. Mars and I have had a long, long love hate relationship (Aries Moon, 12th house Cancer Mars)--I am settling into adoration now. This is Mars with flowers in his hair. This is Mars who is lolling about Venus's bedchamber, looking very muscular and all that--but really, far more into action in the bedchamber than in tromping off to slay enemies. It's a version of Mars I enjoy a lot; Mars with a sense of humor, Mars with a sly grin and bedroom eyes. Flowers layered over--maybe sandalwood? The flowers are the early ones of spring, appropriate to the spring time sign Mars rules so well. I think of daffodils, and hyacinths. There may be spices here as well (hyacinths always smell like cloves and an afternoon in heaven to me)--but mostly floral. And then the deep dragon's blood, that gives this oil the beautiful scarlet color. Mars wafts distractingly. He'd have me in an instant.

another from zenvodunista (thank you). I expected paradox with Uranus, or lightning, perhaps. What happens is--well, I thought nutmeg, before clove and cinnamon both hit. It is quick, it warms my skin (but doesn't burn--it feels like it should be leaving welts, but it doesn't) It has a demanding feel to it. "Wake up! Pay attention!". Since Uranus often works in that manner, this is very appropriate. On the night of a day in which the temps were above 100 this might not have been the best choice to try out...but in cold weather it would be a delight. There is something beneath the spices that it oddly unsettling (also quite appropriate to Uranus). I get the oddest wafts of flowers/fruit/maybe ozone. But it is the spice scent (which kind of brings to mind my dad's old aftershave: Old Spice) that lingers.

a wee decant of Sol came to my hands via zenvodunista (thank you, thank you). First sniff, wet on wrists: omigod, burning rubber! fortunately that faded in seconds, leaving what my nose identified as a giant field of carnations: spice/flowers/heat. I love carnations (and spice and flowers). I am mildly suprised, because I thought (foolish me) that I had figured out a Beth pattern that went "sunshine and summer and such=lemon". No lemon here. I am not sad about it at all. There is such a feeling of wellbeing about this oil; it is the Sun in all its glory as a life giving force (not the current scorcher that is beating my community to its collective knees). After awhile a creamier note came along, softening the blaze of spicy red and white and pink carnations that are all happily growing on some heated terrace in the great world. maybe...amber? musk? damn, I wish I had a sophisticated nose. My thoroughly unsophisticated nose is just all "oh, this is GOOD".

generous gift from a forumite. Ra starts out as many of the sun related scents I've tried with a burst of lemon. It isn't fresh lemon, and I don't think it's lemon verbena--lemongrass is my theory, but whatever it is, it is nice, and a clear, sharp note. But it becomes quite a surprise, going through at least--oh, probably 4 distinct phases even my relatively undiscerning nose gets. It's as if the sun is warming the ground, and there is first a bit of green--the trees are warming up--and then a garden of flowers (and I am so bad at telling what the florals are, but there is a sweet note--not jasmine, not gardenia--maybe carnation?) and some drifts of something spicey, and then, when I have forgotten what I am wearing (and it is a good couple hours later) there is a triumphant flowering of deep sweetness (amber? and spice?). It feels like a strangely--encouraging scent. Very appropriate for Ra.

I was very generously given a set of imps of all the celestials by zenvodunista (whose name I have likely not spelled correctly in the lateness--will correct later, maybe) (corrected, finally!). I have been working with the Planetary Oils as helps in focusing on specific planets while musing over forum charts (or my own) for a couple weeks. I didn't seek out the lab's descriptions at all. My expectations were based primarily on my understanding of the planet's energy. Thus, for Pluto my expectation was transformation. I wasn't disappointed. Pluto starts out with a sharp herbal scent and a metallic edge, then goes to a woody, dry scent, that reminds me of the hills I used to hike in midsummer, where the grass is dry, and the rocks are burning in the sun (a brighter image than I'd generally suppose of Pluto, but okay) And then the sweet and hearbreaking flowers come on. And shift, and change. It is as if you start with harshness, and end with a tremendous sweet (but not sticky sweet) power (perhaps it is the opium poppy note I loved in The Sleeper that blooms late on my wrists in Pluto, and lingers). It is a powerful and complicated scent. Pluto is at my ascendant, so I have a fondness for this planet, and embrace Beth's remarkable vision of it with great awe and pleasure.

What? I never reviewed Zephyr?? And I just noticed that my 5ml bottle is getting down to the last bits. In my first order I ordered an imp of Zephyr, amongst others. (Velvet was one of the others). I found that I loved the mix of Zephyr and Velvet a lot, and I used up both imps pretty quickly. These days (because I'm fickle) I do either of them alone (I ordered a 5ml of Velvet and of Zephyr in my next order). On me Zephyr is simply pure but sexy wonderfulness. It is the scent most commented on by both men and women (when I wear it I always put a bit in my hair). I get absolutely no citrus notes from it at all, and it isn't vanilla in the way my favorite Antique Lace is Vanilla--it is mostly sweetness and musk (musks of all sorts seem to love my skin; good thing I love them). It lasts well, has an excellent throw, but doesn't gag you with "OMIGOD IT'S PERFUME". Pure loveliness, and I'd better quickly get together my pennies and order another 5ml. It is really nice as a hot weather scent (but when the crisp days come--try it with Velvet. Cuddly and warm, it is then).

Rec'd a wonderful tiny amber bottle of Asphodel as a gift; it was highly recommended in early spring when I was seeking a daffodil scent for my dearest daughter (ha, I have yet to let her try this...but I haven't had it long) (still, I thought I'd reviewed this. Hmmm.) Wet, faintly spiced flowers, pale ones, on slender stalks. Perhaps hyacinth, but the Roman ones with the smaller, delicate bells of flowers. Perhaps daffodils, the very pale and sweet early ones. Cool and remote and delicate, very poignant. Yes, must let daughter try it---it has a quality of lost innocence about it; very crumpled muslin gown and petals scattered.

an imp of Shadow made its way to me as a gift (yeah, sure, give me imps of scents that I will fall in love with and pine for...is this some fairy tale?) (*pulls self together sternly*) Instant pure lemon verbena, one of my favorite plants (every year I try--unsuccessfully, I might add--to baby a plant through our northern winters). Lemon verbena is lemon plus sweetness, a unique fragrance. For a time that's all I smell. I am reminded just a little of June Gloom, but that one is definitely lemon geranium, different. Verbena is lighter, sweeter, more delicate. And then the woods come on: cedar more than sandalwood, very definite. I love wood fragrances too. A gentle, refreshing sort of fragrance. It reminds me of a summer breeze blowing through a thin curtain (sheer, but with a pattern of William Morris type leaves) into a woodpaneled room, where I can sit a moment, turning the pages of a rare book. Maybe someday it will be available once more. Meanwhile I'll cherish my droplets well.

a forumite sent me an imp of Hecate (thanks dear!) As usual, I didn't bother with reading the lab notes first, because I want to experience these fragrances unclouded by preconceptions of what I ought to be smelling. Of course, given that my nose is untrained and subject to whimsical fits, my responses are often strange. Hecate goes on with a familiar and slightly fruity/herbal scent (I thought of licorice, actually, with some extra sweetness, and then a bitterness beneath the sweet). On me an odd fragrance, but not unpleasant. There was also almost a wine note, again not unpleasant. As the oil dries down there is a surprising shift from the almost astringent darkness of the start to a lovely almost vanilla sweetness (must be the musk, after having gone to read the lab's description. My skin loves all the musks, and just happily wafts the sweetness about for hours and hours). I once named a kitten Hecate (she was a rescue, her forever home person was--appalled at her name and changed it to Heidi). I love the presence of this manifestation of life and death and time, and of crossroads, and have, wearing the scent, a calm and centered feeling. I think I'm going to need to get a larger bottle of this one.

Yes, my head-in-the-clouds Aquarian doesn't notice my fragrances and should I be so bold as to stick my wrists--or other bit of anatomy--under his nose, his most likely response is either "yuck, flowers" or "at least it doesn't smell like flowers". I'm very used to that (we've been together a very long time) and wear fragrances I love (he has certainly never complained, unless questioned). (and, actually, I was thinking back to a woman lover I had--a Virgo--long ago, who also truly hated any fragrance. But that was pre BPAL.) Me, I've always loved and used scents of all sorts (and am in heaven here). The notes that in my distant past, non BPAL, used to get the most frequent response were carnation-ish (I wore Bellogia, and loved it, and it is a complex but mostly carnation floral), vanilla (yes, vanilla does it very well), sandalwood, and--oddly--a fruity raspberry/incense hippie type oil I used to buy at a music shop (it was probably really a headshop, now that I think of it--I was a naive child.). Jester comes close to that scent; too young for me now, but nice on my daughter (and her guy likes it. He also likes O a lot--a whole lot, I am told..) I think the best fragrance, for all things, is the one that makes the wearer feel wonderful, because then there's just a lovely aura of confidence and bliss. Very seductive.

thank you, ghosttown, for making me laugh out loud and spill my iced tea! Scherezade was a gift from a generous friend, and has been a most interesting experience for me. Usually (though I have been categorized as a "hippie", especially by my daughter) the head shop fragrances just don't quite make it for me. I like incense, I like spicey, but I'm not really sure I want to go about trailing clouds of luminous stoned tie dye scent. So I put some of this on this morning, and thought "yeah, incensey, that's okay; kinda nice, actually". And forgot about it. Hours later I went out to buy dogfood. People do not generally come and sniff me, or comment on my perfume. This one was different: I had several "ooh, that smells wonderful!" and "what on earth are you wearing, it is so lovely" from random strangers, male and female. The kicker was that I couldn't smell the scent much myself at all. So I'll have to ponder this one. The initial incense plus sweetness is lovely (roses and spices; hey, couldn't go wrong with that). And if I smush my nose against my wrists I can now pick up the sweetly sexy smell that I guess is red musk (I seem to love musks of all colors). But I'm selfish. I like to smell my perfumes. Sure, it's nice to enrich the world with loveliness, but...what about me?

How about Cairo? It's fruity and spicey (I just realized the other day that the first seconds are kind of Juicy Fruit gum--but it soon becomes complex spicey goodness)