bheansidhe

This is so amazing, I am begging myself not to drag my tired carcass back to D*Con and buy a bottle on the spot. (I seriously overspent.) It starts off with the gently astringent twin notes of benzoin and lavender - very much a herbal lavender, rather than sweet. Then the oudh rises up and everything becomes this warm, spicy melange of something warm and sharply woodsy. This blend is a love song to oudh.

If trees baked cakes for each others' birthdays, this is how their cake would smell. Resinous, woody, sweet, and complex - but a woody and vegetal scent, unmarred by human foodstuff. This vanilla is wholly of the vegetable kingdom. I just bought two bottles. I dunno, maybe I like it.

Moody, heady black florals over dark water. At the top edge I catch a wet fruit that could be blackberry, plum, or pomegranate; on the skin there's a winey rose and sulty orchid. At the bottom I catch a note that's not quite an aquatic but more of a... water musk, if there were such a thing. I get a cool, lingering blue musk on my skin the next day. Sadly-for-me, this blend might contain one of my death notes (honey or myrrh), since it goes sour on my skin. Verdict: extremely dark, feminine floral with blue musk and myrrh/honey underpinnings. I recommend seeking it out if those traits appeal to you, because it's lovely and I'd keep it were it not for the chemistry mismatch.

I have just acquired an aged imp of this blend. It smells like ALL of the amazing viscous sweet dark musky bits of Snake Oil, without the notes that sulk and turn sour on my skin. Win!

This smells a whole lot like The Rat King plus some faint notes of cold stone and wet evergreen. It's musky, warm, spicy, and masculine without being dirty or earthy. I hope the name isn't scaring people off, because this is great, if a little strong for a room spray - a little goes a long way. I've been spraying paper towels and laying them in the bottom of my closet among the *cough* athletic shoes, which can only be improved by the addition of some wererat funk.

Banana bread, yeasty foamy beer, soft worn oak tabletops, some faint traces of leather and metal. Very atmospheric (no pun intended).

Oh no! I don't mean to waste money on imps you might hate. While it would probably be a fun experiment to find a really tobacco-y or orchid-y blend for $1 or $2 on the forum, and see if it does the same cologne thing on you, you can always resell it or swap it away. But I guarantee that the longer you try BPALs, the more you'll run across the notes you suspect aren't working. Just keep trying blends that sound appealing and join us in SPREADSHEET MADNESS. Keeping notes on how each blend tests out will give you an idea of what scents probably aren't your friend. Or you can join a circular swap (those these can be slow, and you're testing imps that are pretty aged by the time they come to you). Or you can find people who offer quarter-imp decants of the recent LEs; I picked up an inexpensive tester set of the recent Weenies (and I'm glad I did, because only one of the ones I thought I'd love worked on me).

99 times out of 100, any blends that list labdanum, teak, honey (including "honeycomb" and "beeswax"), myrrh, or ambergris as components will go incredibly foul on my skin. So it's possible you're having an individual chemistry reaction to the orchid, the musks, the "tobacco" essence, or some other note in those blends. The best thing to do is get a few imps that also have those notes and do skin tests. Do they all start to smell like cologne on you? Monthly chemistry shifts, and sometimes diet, can also make blends smell different (good, bad, or just different) on your skin.

ROTFL. Let's see. How far can I push the "review by emoticon" window? Fish. Incense. Fish incense. At first I was all: And *dab* and it was all: And I was all: And then it came up with: And I was all: ??? But it assured me: Verdict: Starts out a scary, pungent, but actually un-fishlike incense, with murky aquatics. Quickly mellows to cold mist, incense, and (I swear) slightly scorched coffee. Since I quite like the smell of burnt coffee, this was all right in the end. Quite the bait (sic) and switch, Beth!

Most "spiced fruit juice" blends from the Lab veer into Halloween or Christmas territory for me. While notes of mulled wine or spiced sherry can be delicious scents, they carry a strong holiday scent association that (for me) limits their wearability to those times of the year. Fortunately, Cuelebre doesn't smell like a holiday. It smells like a heady, cognac-infused, red-and-gold dragon-style throwdown. First out of the gate is the pomegranate, red and juicy and sweet but not candied or cloying. The saffron and cognac luff it out in warm billows. I don't specifically catch vanilla or leather in here, but the myrrh sharpens and grounds the blend overall. The cognac, in some miracle, never goes sour or alcoholic the way it does in 99% of other cognac-containing blends; it's like catching cognac fumes in the back of your throat without ever swallowing the liquid itself. Liquid win!

So, I'm no expert, but night-blooming jasmine (Cestrum nocturnum) is a shrub in Solanaceae (the potato family), as opposed to Jasminum officinale, which is in the olive family (Oleaceae). This may explain why Iole isn't a shrieking floral death-note, like every other jasmine-containing blend I've tested except Kanishta (which is jasmine sambac). Though admittedly sharp, this blend also has a smoky, nutty warmth to it. If I huff hard, I can get the actual bourbon vanilla note, but mostly I smell the sandalwood, a lot of slightly astringent oak bark, and a faint whisper of leather. I smell the fig wet, but it vanishes on the skin except for a kind of rounded juiciness. This is cleavage juice. Overall heady stuff. And strong. Normally I find the lab's scent interpretations spot-on, but I wouldn't call this blend "studious" in the least. Unless you're studying the Kama Sutra. Sulty, feminine, womanly but not overpowering. Sadly, there's something in here that doesn't like me on far drydown. If you like Gomorrah or Kanishta, try Iole. If you're terrified of "jasmine," try Iole. If you hate husky, sultry florals, give it a pass.

You know how some scents are so well blended that you can't really pick out individual notes, while others are a cacophony of warring states? Lindworm is door #3. Each of the components comes out strong and distinct, but as neatly dovetailed as a three-legged stool. First there's the smoke - something between burning leaves and the snap of a freshly lit cigarette (but not dirty ashtray). Right behind that is fresh new leather -- supple, like a pair of driving gloves, say, as opposed to stiff old motorcycle chaps. Then there's the sharp green base, which is all weeds and wild herbal notes. No lawn or culinary herbs in here. I think I get dandelion, and sweetgrass, and maybe some chamomile. Definitely a medley of medieval herbs, and some of the nose-clearing astringency of freshly mown hay. When wet, this is a really sinewy, feral scent. It smells like the aftershave an faun would splash on before cruising the meadow for hot young dryads. It softens and goes a little powdery on drydown, but still stays clean and herbal. Thankfully, NO plastic beach balls here.

I also found a masculine Vanilla chaos! #122 - Vanilla plus a distinctly masculine lime-and-oakmoss fougere. This softens and becomes less citrus-y as it wears and develops more of a mossy, woodsy base, rounded on the edges by the vanilla, but definitely a guy's cologne. Also tested: #15 - Sniffed from the bottle, I got O + White Rabbit + extra honey + a very foody, buttery vanilla + a really rich golden cream note, like saffron cream. Testing confirmed the presence of honey, because it turned to to scorched plastic, a result of my incompatibility with all things honey. I toughed it out, and about an hour later I was rewarded with a sweet, dusty dutched cocoa, saffron cream, and a very light hint of amber. Still nothing I could wear, but very nice for those what love those notes. #33 - Vanilla and an intensely foody, juicy strawberry, with other pina colada notes in the background. #165 - Vanilla plus maybe heliotrope, and shreds of some solidified resin or fruit skin. Frankincense? It read as overwhelmingly cloying and powder-sweet at first, but mellowed out on the skin.

If this scent were a man, I would beg him to take me now. In a manly fashion.

I have found my incense smoke scent! Full disclosure: the Lab's cypress, myrtle, and olive blossom notes love my skin; its myrrh does not. I wasn't sure which would win. The result is dry, woodsy, with a stinging hint of saltpeter or brimstone anchoring a very evocative, realistic incense over burning coals. Gentler on my skin than Brimstone or Djinn, which I enjoy but can't wear in large quantities. This is smoky and the best kind of sinful to me.

What an odd but unexpectedly nice blend. Frankly I wasn't tempted by the description, and I was expecting an in-your-face blast of roaring ash and bitter woods. Not at all! Like the other reviewers, I note lotus or dragon's blood in the application. The oil itself is a pale rose'. This quickly warmed, lost its floral note, and became a dry spicy incense. Definitely evocative of red and gold flickering coals, with a hint of lingering char in the background. Verdict: not a pungent smoke note; this is an incense blend! I recommend for fans of that type of oil. ETA: On far drydown, I get carnation, dragon's blood, and pink peppercorn. Carnation can go to soap sometimes on me, but not this time; it stays peppery and spicy-sweet.

Wet, this is pure dirt and loam, but it quickly (within ten minutes) sublimates into a soft, pillowy, dry white note that's almost but not quite floral, almost but not quite vanilla. It's definitely powdery, but never cloying the way many floral notes go on me. Underneath remains the faintest cool, slightly (yes) disquieting layer of dry loam. Very interesting! I didn't expect to like this one, but I do. It's very goth baby powder.

When I first tested this blend in 2007, I got a confused jumble overlaid with lilac - to the point where I couldn't smell anything but lilac. Ambergris hates me anyway, so I set it aside. I sold my last dregs today and on a whim I dribbled out a test of the aged version. WOW, does aging benefit this blend! The lilac is soft, soft, verging on powdery but in a good way (if you like powdery scents), wrapped in mellow amber and a tickle of frankincense and sweet wood. The blend doesn't read as "floral" anymore to my nose. The orange has vanished entirely, removing some of the cologne-y tinge. If you're a lilac fan, find an older imp to test.

I LOVE this, and I didn't expect to at all. Sometimes the Lab's snow and winter blends run together in my mind, but this one stands out - it really is soft and pillowy and comforting. The feel is more like Waltz of the Snowflakes without the sweet evergreen notes; this is snow and soft air and light loam. Wet, it opens with gentle peppermint, but that fades fast, and the dominant notes are creamy, non-foody vanilla, a sheer haze of something like white sandalwood and/or white musk, something almost but not quite like marshmallow, and the lightest of earth and wood. It's very subtle. I slathered yesterday and was told by multiple people that I smelled wonderful. Sadly, in about two hours my skin eats it and it becomes drier and dustier. That just means I have to re-apply. Oh darn.

This is amazing! It smells like the bastard love child of Graveyard Dirt and Ouija - one of my favorite GCs. Ouija always smells like very strong brewed black tea and polished wood furniture to me, and Graveyard Dirt has all that pillowy black loam. I get both of those in Shadows. The "weeds" smell more like bouquets of dried aromatic herbs hanging way in the background, with nothing directly identifiable. Also, amazing when layered next to Christmas Eve in the Counting House - the hearth and loam blend so well. I smell like an earth elemental.

I'm testing this on the principle of "test everything that falls into your hands" which has served me so well in the past and unearthed favorites I never would have tested from the descriptions. This isn't my kind of blend, but I was pleasantly surprised by it anyway. The initial blast out of the vial reminds me a lot of Inganok Jewelers: high metals and an acidic citrus overlay - but there's something under here that's very masculine. Right on top I get hard ozone and crisp yuzu or petitgrain, as with a high-end men's cologne, and a really familiar musky resin that I can't place. I suspect a touch of white sage or vetiver (but just a touch!) near the finish; there's an earthy wild herbal smell, like creosote or chaparral, that I remember from the Arizona desert. The overall effect is very much like bare moors and dark trees overlaid with bright links of chain. Like a picture book for my nose, I swear. Anyway, Marley's Ghost = good on a guy.

What, no one's quoted Wikipedia yet? Okay, I'll be the bad guy. Kourabiedes are Greek butter cookies that resemble light and airy shortbread, but are typically made with the addition of almonds. Kourabiedes are sometimes made with brandy for flavoring, though vanilla, mastika or rose water are also popular.In some regions of Greece, the Christmas kourabiedes are adorned with a single whole spice clove embedded in each biscuit. The base here is pure delicious spice cookie. When I open the vial I get a blast of booze that could easily be rum or brandy. It's got the usual delicious melange of baking spices - I get clove, LOTS of powdered ginger, nutmeg, allspice, a hint of cinnamon - but they're so well blended that no spice dominates. There's a rich buttery undertone carrying the spice along. Best of all, it's actually behaving on my skin, instead of going Single Note Clove or Plastic butter. You might be thinking "Oh, another spice cookie blend," but this one is dry and snappy and complex and maybe the best one yet.

This is just plain amazing for about ten seconds - and then it turns to single-note bayberry candle on me. I foresee oil burners in my future, because it's too nice in its raw form to swap away.

"Yule at the pub" is spot on. The opening bars of this dance are dark ale and strongly spiced fruitcake. The beer is thick, yeasty and hoppy, with the sweet black head of a fresh Guinness. The spices dominate with cinnamon, clove, allspice, and what smells like wine-stewed plums or prunes - an earthy, figgy fruit. I say beer and fruit, but I don't mean boozy or berry-like at all. As it wears, the blend ages to a fifty/fifty split of spicy fruit and dark resinous wood - the age-blackened timbers and dark shellaced floor of an old British pub. Clove-spiced beer-soaked dark wood. Tragic discontinuation!

The top notes are the more delicate baking spices: nutmeg, allspice, mace, cardamom. There might be the lightest sprinkle of cinnamon, but I usually amp that note, and it's not dominant here. The middle hints of holiday baking, but without an overtly dessert-like quality: unfrosted carrot cake, fig, bread pudding, and fruitcake. I don't get citrus off hand (though there could be some orange zest in the blend), but I do get a faint whiffs of cranberries and maraschino cherries, and maybe a touch of candied ginger. The drydown adds a yeasty sweet bread note, like the inside of a fresh loaf of challah, lightly buttered, while continuing with the spices and the lovely bread pudding middle. Overall: delicious!