mountainwitch

Jasmine usually comes to the forefront of almost every blend when I wear it, but this one is not the jasmine love-fest I was afraid of. I couldn’t figure out what the other, lovely floral notes were; turns out to be orchid and especially daffodils. Plum is a good friend to my chemistry as usual, as is my old pal white musk. Overall a lovely blend, if a little more sweetness and light than I expected.

Thick, sharp pine sap over musk. A very dark perfume--if only the musk and juniper could balance the pine a bit more, I think I'd be hanging on to this one. Instead I just keep getting sticky dark pine sap.

Something about the florals reminds me of Antique Lace and, oddly, a bit of Odin or The Unicorn: a warm linen smell with traces of herbs. Warm, pretty, but not outstanding, this scent would make a very nice soap (although it’s not necessarily soapy itself). If I wanted a lovely linen fragrance, I would much prefer it married to the rich vanilla of Antique Lace; if I wanted a delicate floral with the fresh greenness of herbs, I prefer The Unicorn. Shroud is nice, just not something I need or can muster much passion about.

The Heavenly One is the Muse of Astrology and Astronomy, and guides all those who look to the stars for knowledge. She wears a flowing cloak embroidered with her beloved stars, holds a staff and a globe, and her eyes are skyward. Her scent is that of endless, star-clad space: glittering, cool, vast. Moonflower, Moroccan jasmine, benzoin, white musk, iris, moss and a flash of ozone.

Gorgeous. Drop-dead wonderful, rich florals, featuring my good friends moss and white musk. For once the jasmine is part of the blend, but not the drama queen who steals the show; having finally decided to play nice with the other kids, she lends a little sweetness to this seductive "starry night" perfume. This reminds me more than a little of Night's Pavilion, which is also a favorite; if I ever manage to empty that bottle, I'll be getting a whole bottle of Urania.

 

I think I've found my muse!

Is it possible to have a skin chemistry that amps up parchment? Of all the notes to overwork . . . I mean, jasmine or lemon is one thing, but paper?

 

I noticed a similar effect in Dee, but the parchment note was more balanced by the very strong woods scent. Clio, however, has no such luck: even the usually-crisp lavender and orange is drowned out by the mixture of parchment and patchouli, which proves to be very "ornery" indeed. This could be very lovely on someone else, but I end up smelling like a musty stack of books . . . And while that's not necessarily a bad thing, there should at least be actual books involved!

The local swap circle was very proud of this one. All five of them had tried it, and all five of them agreed: "We finally found a scent that works for EVERYONE!"

 

Well, it works for me too. The Crawling Chaos dusts my furniture . . . And he uses Lemon Pledge.

An imp of this first introduced me to the warm sexiness of a BPAL leather fragrance. At this point I had tried Black Tower and Highwayman, but the other notes--especially the vetiver in Highwayman--had hidden that note completely. I didn't think I'd like it; I'd smelled leather fragrances in candles and other fragrances before, and they weren't anything I'd ever want to smell like.

 

Then I tried Loviatar, and I saw the light--err, dark. These were the perfect amber and musk notes for my chemistry, and the result was a little mysterious, very dark, and very intriguing. And it only got better--this one lasts for hours, warming into a scent that remains one of my favorites in the general catalogue. I want a bottle of this one!

Let me preface this by saying that I fear patchouli. I tried this one only because a friend ordered it and I caved to the peer pressure. I fully expected to run for the kitchen sink in five minutes.

But this one works. It could be the floral or incense notes, but I suspect it's all that deep, rich cocoa. It's not an edible scent here, but a dark, rich, full scent that draws me in close--what is that? I like that!

Lesson learned . . . Taking a risk is always interesting, and sometimes it makes for a real reward. To think I might have missed this complex, intriguing scent because I feared a single note.

The rose here comes through after a few long minutes, but it lingers. This is one of those really lovely roses that works very well with my chemistry, and the other notes provide an intriguing balance. There's something about the "tears" here that remind me of what I wanted Jolly Roger to smell like for me. Roses aside, this reminds me of the salt wind on a real beach in gray twilight. In the end, this one is so different from other fragrances I've tried that it's an immediate favorite.

I was afraid of the “Pearls” at first because I figured the coconut would make them all smell like suntan lotion. Boy, was I wrong.

 

The coconut has a certain crispness, like a real fresh coconut split open and smelling of milk and shell. It softens into a sweet, warm, definitely red fragrance, hinting a bit more at that suntan-lotion fragrance I was dreading, but never really crossing that line. It remains different, striking, even sexy.

As other reviewers have remarked, the dragon's blood gives this a lovely sweetness that balances the sandalwood. I love a good warm wood scent anyway, and Dragon's Claw definitely fits the bill, but I was surprised by that touch of sweetness. This was one of those scents that inspired the boyfriend to ask "What are you wearing?" (In the good way, not the "Good Lord, woman! What were you thinking?!" kind of way. ) I'd love to have a bottle of this one on hand.

A delicate and lovely rose, neither overwhelming nor too brief, balanced with lily and something else delicate and sweet that I can't personally identify. This is a great "rose-plus" scent that reminds me of Parlement of Foules. Parlement is ultimately much more intriguing for me, but of course I do have a finite suppy of that beauty. I guess if I ever succeed in using the bottle, Hymn would make a pleasant replacement in the BPAL box.

I remember reading a story about a little girl and her grandmother making caramel icing--not for cake, but because they both loved caramel icing! The grandmother's wisdom is that everyone should have enough of what they love a least once . . . Of course, the little girl gets sick from all that sugar. Gluttony reminds me of this story, and not just because of the theme.

 

On me, this one is all caramel. A little nutty, very sugary, a litle burnt. The sweetness turns almost sickly under its own weight, making it a perfect scent for the concept: it's too much of what I thought I loved, turning into something that's just revolting.

 

Not everybody gets the BPAL morality play that I did. On a friend this smells like the most fantastic, nutty toffee . . . Maybe there's always room for just a little more . . .

This starts out smoky and tough, a strong leather scent, but eventually that's overwhelmed by the sweetness of dragon's blood. Generally I like leather, while smoky scents are kind of hit-and-miss; here the combination has something syrupy-sweet poured all over it. The longer I wear it, the sweeter and smokier it gets . . . And in this case that's not a good thing.

I've put off reviewing this one, precisely because I adored it so immediately and powerfully that it took me a while to figure out what to say.

 

I've never had a perfume quite like this: undeniably exotic, both golden and warm, and unrelentingly sexy. Honey and spices and the same palm and fig notes that make Intrigue so, well, intriguing. (I can't believe I just said that . . . ) It has definite throw and lingers for hours--in fact, my only warning would be to apply with a light hand. It is definitely a potent blend, and a little goes a long way.

 

edited after doublechecking Intrigue description

Oh my. This is wonderful.

 

This one came highly recommended by Moonminx, and now I see why. Night's Pavilion is the fourth Lupercalia fragrance that I've tried; of those four, three are among my favorite oils of all time. This particular blend is clean, just a little sharp at first, with a hint of exotic mystery. White musk usually works for me, and here it turns outright seductive.

 

You know, BPAL just might redeem the entire "Valentine's Day" season for me.

Wow, this one's sweet and strong; "potent" really is the perfect word for it, as edenssixthday mentioned. I love the apple, which is a note that I can definitely pick out, and I generally do well in floral-fruit-musk blends. Perfumed Garden wasn't one of those blends for me, however. There's too much sweetness, especially of the jasmine, which my chemistry tends to work too hard anyway. It was definitely powerful--until about the third hour, when it took its quince and went home.

I had to try this one for the literary reference. I nearly died when I opened the envelope and saw the bottle with its fine detail, too; I really wanted this to be a keeper!

 

At first Montresor was all sharp and sweet, a fruity-boozy fragrance much like what Monster Bait: Closet turned into when it hit my skin. Montresor turned woodier and darker, however. I was starting to really enjoy it . . . Until it turned into a dead ringer for the cherry tobacco that my uncle used to smoke. The smell was powerful and rich, and I know some people might like that smell in itself, but the memories it triggered were just too powerful for me. (My uncle was a victim of a violent crime several years ago.)

 

I did find a good home for Montresor with a friend for whom it was reminiscent of chocolate and cherries. Now, if I can just talk her into giving me the empty bottle . . .

Sleepy Moon was part of a very kind offer from a forum seller, and I was very excited to try this one out. Bamboo and poppy and chamomile . . . How cool, to try a lunacy blend that I totally missed the first go-around!

 

Unfortunately, all those lovely notes turned into an incense cone on me--not an incensy blend, but an Asian-themed incense cone that I had the poor sense to start rubbing on my pulse points. Even the lavender, which usually pops out sharp and fresh on me, was lost in the dusty cloud. But as usual it smelled great on one of my swap partners, turning into an exotic, green, lovely fragrance she can wear even in the most professional setting. Sleepy Moon was fun to try, and it's found a loving home, but in the end I'm left a little green myself . . . With envy, of course!

Now this is just strange. I have here a scent with an enticing and lovely description, and the imp is a good match for the description on my skin, but I still don't consider this a keeper . . . What in the world is wrong with me?!

 

While not very herbal on me, the description is otherwise dead-on. The imp smells very much like blackberries with something darker; it's a sweet but dark, almost earthy fragrance. If I had tried it a few weeks ago I might have just fallen in love. But no, I had to try Bewitched first, and the tea and musk in that scent gives me a brighter, more alluring fragrance. And since I have a nice big bottle of Bewitched on the way . . . Sorry, Baneberry, but I'm already seeing someone else.

A surprise frimp from someone who'd been checking out my wishlist! Roses, for me, are apparently hit-or-miss, but the roses in Whip were the full, luscious, damp red blooms promised. These roses are full-blown, old-fashioned, and fragrant, and they lasted for hours. I was just hoping for a little more leather. There's a hint of it, just a hint, under that floral extravaganza, but not quite enough to give it the balance I was looking for. This one's a little strong for me, but maybe I just need to use the "Whip" with a light hand.

I’ve never tried out a scent that turned into stale flowers and sweat on me before, but this one does. It morphs through several varieties of sweat-flowers-babypowder, but it never turns into anything I want to smell like. Long-lasting, and it does get better the longer I wear it . . . But Lord, it doesn’t start out good.

A friend who ordered a bunch of imps had this one picked out for me as a "floral person." Roses (are red) and violets (are blue):what could be more simple and straightforward than that?

 

While I did catch the sweetness of rose briefly, for some reason this one turned into a bitter combination for me. I don't know if there's something else here that isn't listed, or if there are some rose blends used here that my chemistry just doesn't like. I suspect it's the latter, given that Lucy's Kiss and Wicked also turn strange and weirdly bitter when they hit my skin, and rose is the only thing that these three--which end up smelling strangely similar on me--have in common.

The first few minutes Maenad is all about the strawberries. Fresh, ripe strawberries . . . Just perfect! The other notes balance the brightness just enough, making it something enjoyable and complex. Unfortunately, it doesn't stay that way; after those first few giddy minutes, the scent changes on me, transforming into a dead ringer for strawberry Pez.

Sweet, dark, and rich--and definitely a little spicy. Even the look of this in the vial is perfect: a deep crimson, like polished garnets. While I've tried a lot of "cherry" scents, this is completely different from everything else in my collection. I'm hanging on to this one to spice up some cold autumn days . . . And maybe some cold autumn nights as well!