bheansidhe

In the vial, and just applied, this is an intense and realistic juicy green scent, full of of crushed stems and lily pollen. I can clearly smell the oak note underneath; it's reminiscent of the varnished flooring note in Pulcinella and Teresina. On me, this is Unfortunate Daylily Incident at the Bottom of the Gasoline Can. The lilies stay green and lovely, but the oak flooring note turns into something... wrong. Menacing, even. As I did my grocery shopping last night, I thought I'd maybe tracked in gasoline from the parking lot on the wheels of my (clingwrap-free) shopping cart, because I kept getting this faint but stomach wrenching whiff of something as I tooled up and down the aisles. To my horror, I realized it was DATBOTS. It's like missing the final step at the bottom of an olfactory staircase, and staggering into air. Disappointing chemistry. Not the fault of this blend. It will delight someone with better-behaved skin.

Well, after aging an imp of this specimen since its initial release, I have to say I'm REALLY pleased with the result. ETA: NEVER MIND. I was pleased with the result because I was actually testing CARFAX ABBEY and not The Carpathain Mountains. Wherever I sent my imp of The Carpathian Mountains, I'm sure it's still wintergreening away, bless its medicinal little heart.

Has no one suggested Miskatonic University? (A venerable New England MAGICAL university, whose vast library holds many rare, diabolical and obscure arcane works, including one of the few surviving legitimate copies of the Necronomicon. Home to innumerable scholars of the esoteric and the occult, and the notorious Dr. Herbert WestSeverus Snape. The scent of Irish coffee, dusty tomes and polished oakwood halls.) And for the bubotubors... Squirting Cucumber.

Sniffed from the bottle, Myth and I both got green flower stems of the more aggressively pungent type, like marigold or mum - that good, earthy green pungency, maybe sprays of fern. It smelled vividly of a fresh florist's bouquet, the expensive kind. Other than that.... floral. I'm not a floral person. It was floral. I'm sure I'll be embarrassed later when people post intricate and accurate descriptions later, but for right now I got.... floral.

Isn't it funny how not only our chemistry but also our noses are different? Myth and XOMom both sniffed this at Dirty South Will Call and got mostly "sugar" with notes of peach. I got, I swear, a peach cobbler version of Crumpet Rebellion - buttery, bubbling sweet pastry, fresh from the oven, with crystallized sugar baked into the crust. It was served with fluffy cotton candy and spun-sugar flowers. It's not a replacement for Candy Butcher (for one thing, I got not cream or chocolate notes), but it will make foody lovers very, very happy.

Sunbird has some of the smoky-myrrh smoulder of Priala, but it's brighter and, well, sunnier. I didn't get any citrus or verbena notes, though there's some herbal note in the background. Warm, glowing yellow. Lovely.

Dorian CLXXV - 175 (decant from bookandbroom) News flash: Dorian Incites Crumpet Rebellion! ...yep! My initial impression was correct: sweet red fruits and buttered, yeasty pastry added to Dorian. I have an imp of Crumpet right here, and the notes are *very* similar to this Chaos Dorian. I was going to call it "Drunken Dorian" because the very first whiff out of the vial was of red wine or dark red fruit, but once the cap was off, the red fruits and pastry rose up and dominated the nose. Possibly currant notes too. The lemon overlay in Dorian gives this a candied sweetness (almost like the candied peel of Pumpkin Queen). All in all, too sweet and foody for me, but someone else is going to LOVE this. ETA: After an hour of wearing both Chaos Dorian and Crumpet on my arm, the similarities are still striking. However, Chaos Dorian has a faintly boozy red note with the candied citrus, which is now reminding my nose of Sugar Skull. (You know you've been using BPAL too long when all of your scent descriptions are nothing but references to other scents. )

Uh, WHAT? The first time I tried it I got a weird bright-yellow miasma somewhere between artificial butter and overheated electrical wiring. Now, three weeks later, AFTER it's gone off sale, I am getting a smoky pestle-paste of peppercorn, cardamom, bitter chocolate and hazelnut. Because it's a quarter imp, I suspect accelerated aging due to oxidation. If you've been waffling on this one, definitely hang on to it for six months and re-try!

The concept is beautiful, but I had no hopes for this scent based on my skin's reaction to blackberry notes. Straight off, when I uncap the vial and sniff, I smell sharp armpit sweat - that's the blackberry. Blackberry doesn't like to be bottled up, and it lets you know about it. After a few seconds it backs off and I catch a bit of the orange blossom, and a touch of mint, but it's not foody. On my skin, it's again ruined by blackberry, which turns to dusty cat pee. After about thirty minutes I can catch the amber as a delicious warm middle note, but I only get it if I try hard. "Amber mint" is a strange but lovely concept, but on me the layers stay sharply divided; they never blend. For the right person, this will be an amazing and unique scent.

This smelled eerily familiar on my skin... not foody, but something that reminded me so much of food. Finally, I got it. On me it smells exactly like a really strong, fresh brew of Thai iced tea. Have you ever ordered it in a Thai restaurant? It's a deep brick-red, and as you pour in the condensed milk it swirls and becomes a lovely opalescent orange. It typically contains star anise, cinnamon, vanilla, tamarind, ginger, and red or orange food coloring (no lie. I've tried making it at home and stained everything from sink to stovetop bright red). I cannot guarantee that this is anything but a quirk of my personal chemistry, but when I asked for my boyfriend's opinion he agreed that I did, in fact, smell exactly like it. For reference: http://www.oneletterwords.com/thaitea/recipes.html Badger also has a distinct cedar note, not sap-fresh but weathered, and something earthy but without the dusty pungency of any of the lab's "dirt" notes. I like it - it's strange, strongly androgenous, and herbal without being foody.

My apologies if this is covered elsewhere, but what do we do when gallery space is full? I can't post my new pics either.

Wet: a blast of malevolent red wine and dark rose. The alcohol note burns off within about fifteen minutes, at which point it becomes rose and jasmine anchored by sandalwood. Heavy, heady. I don't know what variety of jasmine the lab uses for its other jasmine blends, but night-blooming jasmine (cestrum nocturnum) is not common essential-oil jasmine (Jasminum officinale or Jasminum grandiflora). Night-blooming jasmine, in this blend, smells much more like the jamine sambac (Jasminum sambac) of Kanishta, which I love, than to common jasmine , which hates me. Drydown ends in myrrh and rose, anchored by sandalwood. Myrrh also hates me. Throw level starts out *snort* WOOT ARGGGH MY NOSE MY NOSE heavy, then subsides after about 30 minutes (or my smeller goes numb). The florals go a little powdery. I'm sure the patchouli is in there as a base note anchor, but I never catch it. I predict this one will rely on your individual skin chemistry for success or failure (even moreso than other Lab blends).

Oddly, on my skin this smells very similar to Queen of Sheba ("a bounty of golden honeyed almonds and a whisper of African and Middle Eastern spices") or Seraglio (Sweet almond and Mysor sandalwood enveloped by a heady veil of Bulgarian Rose, neroli, nutmeg, clove and orange peel). There's definitely a honey warmth, an almond note, and a faint, dusty spiciness, hand-in-hand with the lily floral. Sadly, instant headache.

Whoa! Everyone who was disappointed by Saw-Scaled Viper's red-hot, cinnamon-sharp cassia-fest (including moi, last year) - Either set a half-imp out to age, or get your hands on a sample that's one year plus. Just as aging benefits its parent, venerable Snake Oil, the mellowing effects of oxidation and time make a HUGE difference with this viper. It becomes .... "clouds of foody billowing yum." At least on me.

Well, I don't think there's any way I can improve on the reviews by galleywest and fairynymph. So I won't even try. :-) A rich, heavy, polished scent. The balsam green gradually hardens to a metal-tinged musk. I would love it on a guy, but it's too masculine for me.

Despite the listed notes, Men Ringing Bells is dominated by mellow ginger and a rounded citrus note - it smells like yuzu, but doesn't go overwhelmingly sharp on my skin as the yuzu in Aizen-Myoo did. Could this be the rice wine? There is also a juicy green middle tone, cushioned by moss, but not earthy or dusty. I was expecting this to be too cologne-y, too sharp, or too metallic. It is none of these - it is gorgeous. Soft, humid, golden, overlaid with a clear hum of ginger and spiced tea, without any shrillness or bite. This is what I *want* citrus blends to smell like on me, but they never do. Why didn't I order this? Must find.

Wet: Pineapple upside-down cake, soaked in spiced rum. Drydown: It goes through a pina colada stage, but overall this scent is much more cake-y than alcohol-y. In fact it smells like a kissin' cousin of Drink Me, with the same cinnamon-heavy, yeasty, sugary bread-pudding smell. Right down to the rum sauce. Did I mention the rum sauce? The... SPICED rum sauce? There isn't any fresh pineapple in this smell; it's caramelized, gooey baked pineapple in a strong cake base, with lots of cinnamon and allspice. Very strong. In fact, on far drydown I smelled like a Yankee Candle shop. Not quite my cup of spiced rum.

I love this one so much. Which is a complete shocker as every other BPAL blend with "jasmine" has ended up a shrieking floral horror on my skin. But the jasmine sambac of Kanishta has a round, voluptuous, almost nutty weight, anchored by the spicy Haitian patchouli. I'm not sure what opium is supposed to smell like, but I get the magnolia underneath, blooming like a luminous ghost over the heavy black floral. Kush is... a type of cannibas flower? No idea. Good old Wikipedia informs me that "jasminum sambac" is a related but different species than regular jasmine (jasminum officinale) or night-blooming jasmine (cestrum nocturnum). Jasmine Sambac is the national flower of Indonesia and the Phillipines. And - aha - it's also Hawai'ian "pikake" flower. I wonder if the jasmine sambac oil is not regularly available, hence the LE. When I wear this, the boy knows he's getting lucky. Or bitten. One or the other. VERY strong with lots of throw on me, so my bottle will last a very long time.

I ordered this one more out of curiosity, since I never wear violet or lily. I was immediately struck by a scent memory when I tried La Befana, and after some sniffing I figured it out: It smells like a St. Joseph's Day altar, loaded with desserts and flowers and food. (If you're not Italian or from New Orleans, here's a link: http://www.thankevann.com/stjoseph/photos.php) I smell the hundreds of Italian cookies baked for the altar: macaroons and biscotti di regina, little anise toasts, sugared St. Joseph's Day fig cookies, and salt-dough breads shaped like crosses and fish. I smell buttered pie crust and definite notes of sugar and caramel (similar to the "cakes" note in Haloa). And realizing what I smell, I feel the same rush of wonder - a scent captures this! - that I felt the first time I saw a live St. Joseph's altar. Fifteen minutes on my skin and I smell a whoosh of the dust that got released when they hauled the altar tables out of storage for the feast. The scent actually morphs into a floral dust note, and then the desserts creep back. And then I smell the violets. Oh, the violets. Every year there were hard sugar eggs on the altars, intricately iced in lurid pastel roses and violets; sort of an Easter interpretation of sugar skulls. I licked one once when no one was looking. It tasted like perfume and preservatives and those chalky candy cigarettes (do they still sell those?). I smell those eggs, perfectly captured as a "candy charcoal" note. How very interesting. It's nothing like the Lab's other smoke notes, nothing woodsy; it's very dry and chalky. But there's also a rich, living floral note; the sprays of cut flowers and the warring perfumes of the ladies in attendance. I would never wear this because my skin hates violets. However, it was a neat half-hour in Smell-o-vision, and a really amazingly innovative scent combination. Average throw and wearlength. It will really depend on how your skin morphs the individual notes. I never got any cypress.

The character of the Witch Queen ages rapidly through the book, appearing different in almost every encounter. Like her namesame, BPAL's Witch Queen is a rapid morpher, evolving in distinct stages on my skin. Wet: A cold, haughty floral. Like a bouquet of juicy flowers preserved in a snow globe; untouchable, but almost unbearably lush and voluptuous to see. And, yes, there is a purple tone to the smell, like dark plum velvet. Beautiful and womanly. The plum is juicy but not fruity. Drying: Plum goes away. At the moment, it smells a lot like a fresh gardenia straight from the bush. Dryer: Veers sharply back into plum territory, but a drier plum. Now it's sharper, and almost astringent, like plum wine overlaid with a haze of sweet smoke. Driest: Still sweet, but faded and almost dusty. More of a tuberose/ylang ylang blend. Unlike many florals it never goes soapy on my skin, but it never really *agrees* with my chemistry. Not me, but a really interesting progression, obviously worthy of the character. This might become someone's signature scent.

When I acquired this imp from the lab in April 06, I found it primarily vetiver and black musk, with a leather undertone. Heavy, masculine, and a touch bitter, it was not something I wanted to wear, so I put it in the swap pile and forgot it. I tested it today on a whim. I don't know if I had it in the Magic Aging Configuration under perfectly aligned stars or what, but - man! Let me say that again, with proper emphasis: MAYun! Aged Iago pours on black and smoky, very like lapsang souchong tea. The vetiver lost its pungency somewhere in the past year, and now behaves like a dried sweetgrass note. And the leather - This is the leather to end all leather. This is MAN leather. This is the hard slap of the riding crop, the black jacket on the Harley rider, the flat uncompromising thack of the paddle. Still slightly bitter, like the tang of leather soap, which makes it an even more evocative scent. Is it sweetly bitter? o yes; bitter, bitter, like the ash of burning sinners, smiling as they burn. Ahem. The black musk creeps out an hour or so into wearing, but it only serves as a round bottom note - [okay, no, I SWEAR that when I wrote that sentence it sounded a lot different in my head, but I guess I'll let it stand ]. In comparison to other leather BPALs: Quincy Morris and A Bachelor's Dog are both much softer. Doc Constantine is more multi-layered. Hellfire is much more like pipe smoke. Severin, Loviatar and Whip were much sweeter. DeSade had an acrid vanilla note that turned to bug spray on me, but might compare favorably if that's one that works for you. It's still not something I want to wear, but now I've got to try it on the man. Excuse me, the MAYun.

Ohhhh Myyyyyy Gawwwwwwwd, it is so good! It's foody in the way a spice cabinet is foody, not foody like a dessert tray. The cinnamon is really a soft, warm, powdered cinnamon, not the overly sharp cassia note that my skin hates (and ruined Monster Bait: Underbed). On me, the Pinched With Four Aces blend has a dry, caramelized warmth. In fact it's what I thought Ventriloquist's Dummy *would* smell like, but didn't. I'm heartbroken that I didn't buy a bottle when I had the chance. If there is ANY chance that the Dogs will dash back into the Salon for a reprise round, I'm stocking up on this one. It's the only one of the Dogs that really worked. One To Tie, Two To Win was lovely but just didn't reciprocate the affection on my skin.

Kumari Kandam is a real sleeper hit on my skin. Blends like these ensure that I will give every BPAL that passes through my hands a test swipe, even if the description lists Every Note That Ever Hated Me Ever. The dominant note in Kumari Kandam, for me, is the lab's "snow note." Paradoxically, to me the snow note always smells like warm, spicy pine resin (Black Forest, Snow Maiden, Knecht Ruprecht, Snow Moon, and Wolf Moon are "snow note" blends that come to mind, and they all smelled similar on me). So there's a spicy warmth to the scent. Beyond that, it completely eludes description. Is it aquatic? Not really. Nor is it particularly dolorous or floral. There's an echo of jasmine sambac (not the sharp floral jasmine, but its mellow woodsy cousin), which may be the 'hothouse blooms' in the description, and there's a thin rime of salt on the edge, which may be the "oceanic" component. It lingers like a waft of hidden incense. Warm, mysterious, and elusive. Really noticeable throw and a good four-five hours of wear. I might just have to get a bottle. (Note: I did try an imp of indeterminate age from a swap. A fresher sample may be colder or more aquatic; I'll amend this review if that proves to be the case.)

The "heady smack" of this perfume is a strong, almost bitter-honey note that smells exactly like the note that ruined Faiza the Black Mamba for me. Having smacked me upside the head for a few minutes, that unknown note settles back into its seat, grumbling, and lets Rose rise up and hang over my shoulder, slapping her leather gloves impatiently on her palm. I feel like the beleagured husband in the painting, waiting for the umbrella to descend. This eventually settles into what might be a classic, woodsy rose cologne - on someone else. On me it turns sharp and chemical, and the smoke note is the stinky whiff of cigar you can't air out of your clothes after visiting Uncle Vincienzo and his poker buddies. On my skin it lasted about three hours, and left a faint, very faint, whiff of powdered rose and soft leather. It has good throw in the first couple of hours. Um, not me. But maybe you - especially if you loved Faiza the Black Mamba or Whip (though it's a much softer rose than Whip). Re-reading my description, I'm amused that the scent captures the feel of the painting so accurately.

It's odd that other reviews talk about how light and green Mr Ibis is, because my impression was just the opposite. Soft, yes, but in the beginning (as in so many beginnings), quite dark. In the vial Mr Ibis is a murky, cthonic scent, a velvet-soft but lightless aquatic. On my skin the notes gradually brighten, like a lantern gradually becoming visible in the distance, and unroll into a smoky, chocolate-brown aquatic. I find this a very masculine oil, not in the manly-man sense, but like a heavy cloak that requires really broad shoulders to wear it comfortably. After an hour it fixes and dries; no longer an aquatic, but a painting of a deep river done on old parchment. I catch a hint of the dried-paper note from Miskatonic University, and the faintest overlay of a vanilla floral.