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<span style='font-size:11pt;line-height:100%'><span style='font-family:Garamond'>From the Diabolus collection:

 

 

There's not as much civet in this one as I was afraid of, and I've managed to avoid turning the scent rancid with my body chemistry because of it. Sweet orange, bergamot, and the ambergris combine to make an absolutely eerie sweet, warm, and lightly baby-powderish Orange Julius.

 

Frankincense makes its way out in the middle of all this, and sharpens the notes up a bit, but they never go to bitter. The dark musk pulls this down and gives it real depth about five minutes into the wearing - without dampening the sweet orange/baby-powder notes.

 

I usually avoid powdery scents like the plague. This, like Unseelie, is an exception to that rule.</span></span>

Forest all the way - sweet sage and oakmoss give this a green, deep-forest feel, and the juniper berries add crispness. The drop of grape sweetens the package, and the civet completes the earthy, animalistic, forest picture.

Starts out as a sharp green with definite musky animal tones, and dries down to a more mellow but very solid blend that leads me to mental images of rabbits curled up in the hidey-hole that low-lying tree branches create next to their trunk.

Civet and I don't seem to get along well, as it turns funky on me; otherwise, I'd wear this one often.

Gluttony isn't a dark chocolate scent. It's got all sorts of other sweet scents, along with just a touch of gingerbread for spice. Bliss would be a chocolate scent, although not a bitter, dark chocolate.

<singing off key> Younger than springtime, are you; gayer than laughter, are you; warmer than winds of June are the gentle lips you gave me ...

 

Sorry - my father used to sing this to my mother when the weather was warm enough to roll down the windows on drives. I remember how she always blushed and smiled at him - so I never asked, and have always just supposed it was some special part of their courtship.

 

Scents for spring moments like these?

 

The Apothecary

Old Shanghai

Cordelia

Phantasm

Old Glasgow

Tears

Endymion

Yes, tell me what I can do long-distance! You'll be a multi-state, if not nationwide, enterprise if you utilize all of us who are willing to help from afar.

It'd be quite a commute, but I'd think about it!

For me, Fae started out with a touch of peach and heavy on the white musk, with the bergamot more moderate.

 

This dries down to a sparkling, green and light fruity-floral - the peach and heliotrope really wrap around each other and are held together with the white musk and oakmoss underneath it all. The pungence of the bergamot makes it stand out from other fruity-floral scents

 

Really nice - I may wear this one enough to purchase an additional bottle, come spring.

Hot, hot, hot - cinnamon and subtle black pepper, which makes this a very sexy sort of angry. The clove didn't come out at first, so I thought I might be able to wear this, but ... the clove appeared about five minutes in, and gave me an instant headache, so no-go.

I get the lavender and neroli, but no sandalwood. Maybe just a drop of eucalyptus, as the lavender is sharper than usual.

 

Very airy and cloud-like. Probably the easiest of the Aces for my nose to "read" and understand.

The tarot blends are so complex, they’re very difficult for me to describe.

 

Ditto. The series of Aces, in particular, has been difficult for me, because they don't ... resonate? ... with my senses like the others do. The Ace of Wands has that peculiar not-quite pepto-bismol scent that's also in the Wheel of Fortune - I've yet to place that scent, but it's very light and almost like something electric or perhaps melted by heat.

This went on me in a sticky-sweet cloud, but it did mellow into a soft, fluffy, enveloping sweetness after a few minutes.

 

I don't get much of an impression from the Aces - certainly not like I do from the Major Arcana.

Definitely dirt and timber. I like the forest path analogy, as it's more of what my nose smells - some crushed pine needles in there.

 

Not an overwhelming smell at all, and in fact, the Ace of Pentacles faded very quickly on me.

Definitely dry and exotic. Just on, I smell saffron and white pepper, but not in overwhelming quantities - they offset the white musk and keep this light and sunny. Drying down does indeed bring out the softer, more carmelized and toasted-type feel, which blend with the saffron and musk in a fashion I wouldn't have expected.

 

I bypassed this on my recent order, but I'll be adding it into the next. Perfect for fall or winter, if you're a seasonal scent kind of person.

Orange, but just barely. More of a creamsicle kind of orange, which I would detest if the red sandalwood didn't grab the reins and pull it back into the blend pretty quickly.

 

The two combine and even out pretty well, but this isn't something I'd wear.

 

Edited to add: Ordered several Imps for friends to try, and went back through some of them that I didn't care for originally. This one passed the re-testing of re-tested scents ... so soft and warm, with the orange keeping it light and smooth. I'm ordering this after all!

Sparklingly herbal, Envy's a scent I'll be purchasing. The mint really jumps out in the first minute or two, with the limes crisp and right alongside.

 

Give it a few minutes, though, and you'll get a complexity you wouldn't imagine could come from four main components. If you ever had to weed you mother's flowerbeds as a kid, you know the scent of grass and plants ripped from the ground and crushed in your hand - take that scent, add quick grating of lime zest, and only a hint of lavender to get an idea about Envy. The mint's still around, but recedes into the blend rather than staying on top.

 

This one's very bright to me - it glitters in my nose, like beads of water on those flowers I had to weed around, shining in the sun.

I like the Moroccan rose Beth's using - it's lush and with an unusual sort of clarity that doesn't get lost in the blends. In Pride, the narcissus combines with it to make a unified, expensive, I-am-better-than-you-everyday-sorts kind of scent.

 

I walk with my head up and my hips swinging anyhow, so it might be a little over the top if I went with my reaction of throwing my chin up a bit higher and swaying some more. It's what I would want to do, though. <grin>

 

Pride's a straightforward but really beautiful rosy scent, and because it's uncommon and has such strength of character, I'll be ordering this one.

 

Updated 3/21/04 - Was headed out the door this afternoon - stepped into my bedroom and put some of this on while the fella was in the other part of the house gathering stuff up. We got into the car, rolled the windows down to enjoy the sunny spring afternoon, and he started pointing out all the Bradford pear trees in bloom and talking about how good spring and flower gardens and greenery smell to him. I didn't think anything of it until about two minutes later, when he looked at me kind of funny and said, "I don't think Bradford pear trees smell that good. I think you must have put on some perfume." A quick sniff-test confirmed I was the smell-good!

Ever been in a dark, previously damp basement? Dusty and full of stuff that needs to be taken out and thrown away, and has needed to be thrown out for years, but someone just kept packratting stuff away, with that thick, heavy smell of decomposing wood and paper and oil? That's Sloth.

 

Obviously not something I'll be wearing often. I'm sitting here yawning, trying to decide if I want to bother with finishing up the reviews I have to do ...

I hope Beth doesn't let Ted wear any of the guys' scents she's been making lately. It would have to be annoying to beat away the hordes of women surrounding him, and that's just unfair considering all the work she puts into these scents before they go on someone.

 

Lavender, but not bitter, astringent lavender. Sweetened with limes and lilac, it's still very masculine, and not just because of the musk. There are other lavender-based colognes out there, but this isn't overpowering, artificial, or common.

Note from the voice of experience - do NOT test De Sade and Lust in the same day if your partner isn't around.

 

The red musk and patchouli are so well blended they're practically a single note, and the myrrh is just separate enough to make this crisp and with a bit of bite. The ylang-ylang disappeared somewhere in the mix, but I can feel it even though I can't smell it specifically.

 

My cheeks are flushed, my lips are full, my eyes are half-closed ... I'd say Beth managed what she was aiming for with Lust.

I may uh ... uh ... need a little time alone to ... erm ... contemplate ... this scent. Where is the cowboy when I need him? I never give him gifts, but I'm making an exception and ordering this immediately.

 

Manly perfection in a bottle. Damn!

 

This might make a good replacement for my Bvlgari Black, even though it lacks the tea note. The smoky part is still there, and this isn't chemically the way Black is ... but I don't know it it will be safe for me to go out in public smelling this all day long.

Patchouli and heliotrope come out immediately, with the copal not far behind. The oakmoss stays at the bottom and really ties these three together.

 

I don't know that I'd call it golden, but I would call it rich. Very earthy, but not overwhelmingly so - and something I want to keep applying as I sniff it.

Actually, I liked the apricot note, and I even liked how the black ptachouli fought with it when I first put it on. The patchouli took over in less than two minutes, though, and the apricot disappeared about five minutes later.

 

If I could keep the first impression going throughout, I'd wear this on days I just want to be difficult and throw people off balance because I'm in a snit.

Lemon zest, a dash of black pepper, and some light wildflower all jump out when this first goes on. Uplifting and fresh without being stringent, Lobban quickly dries down to a warm green floral with definite citrus tones.

From the Tarot collection; no description provided on BPAL's website.

 

Goes on sticky-sweet with a fizzy sort of undertone, and quickly backs down into a barely herbal, warm and woody blend that retains some sense of the effervescence without it actually being a defineable note.

 

A hint of moss, plenty of rosewood, and maybe a touch of amber? Solid like a huge old oak with new leaves coming out in spring, and very balanced.

Crisp and almost arid in nature, Sol has a sharp, spicy scent that is resinous without being softly warm. Instead, it's a very fiery, almost scorched feel. There's pine in here, too - a much more complex scent than the the overall tone of the oil implies.