gentle-twig

This one is really beautiful on me. It opens with something shockingly green. I think theres definitely either Néroli or petitgrain in this mix, and the opening has that green citrus quality that the lab’s dead leaves accord sometimes has. But after that a warm combination of resins begins to bloom. On my skin, this is mostly about the storax/styrax. The myrrh adds a little shadowiness, but the storax is holding this blend aloft in golden light. If I try, I can tell that the balsam is there, but it’s not really a “balsamic” blend. The storax almost reminds me of beeswax, but even though it has a certain sweetness it doesn’t even come close to being cloying. I need to remember that storax might more reliably do what I always want honey notes to do: this scent is warm, golden, but also surprisingly light and airy. The herbs are there as well. They merge with that slightly bitter edge myrrh has so that they become hard to identify, but there is a dry, kitchen cabinet quality (thyme?) to them. Overall this oil feels serious without being gloomy. I can’t help but associate it with encaustic religious icons despite the Egyptian inspiration. There is a stickiness, a dustiness, a golden glow, and a murky depth to this blend that form an intoxicating whole. Anubis starts loud and then grows more intimate surprisingly quickly. I think, though, that it is probably worth FBing for me. Given its place in the GC, I won’t hesitate to reapply.

This is still pretty fresh from the lab, but hasn’t really changed much since I got it. Red Currant and Hay is tricky for me to describe; I don’t really know BPAL’s version of either of these notes well. The red currant is recognizable to me, conjuring memories of jellies and scones without going too gourmand. But there is also an almost lemon-y aspect to its tart fruitiness that I wasn’t expecting. The lemon edge adds an impression of pleasant cold to the fruity side of this scent somehow. Meanwhile the hay keeps things hazy and soft. I get flashes of photorealistic hay that smudges out in two directions: toward a slightly tannic, tea-like impression as well as a cozy, fuzzy muskiness. The overall impression is comfortable and nonchalant. Definitely an easy, casual scent that I sometimes put in the “boyfriend” category, reminiscent of a chicly oversized borrowed jacket. (Incidentally I’m about 3 inches taller than my actual boyfriend). Red Currant and Hay is firmly unisex, though. No swashbuckling or va va voom connotations, it just smells good. I am beginning to treasure these lunacy duets in general for just such effortless versatility. But Red Currant and Hay is an especially snuggly version of an “easy grab.” I love hay scents for sleep—it is my lavender. And this feels perfect for that, without being unwearable as a daytime scent. Am I a field mouse curling up in my bed of sun-dried vegetation? Or am I just a good smelling person going about my business? Why not both? Out of my BPAL collection, this somehow reminds me the most of A Cup of Tea in the Verandah. I think something about the way the bright fruity bergamot interacts w the amber and tea to create a delightful phantom fruit compote you’ve never tasted before. Red Currant and Hay is simpler, less polished, less pellucid, more linear, and less showstopping than A Cup of Tea in the Verandah, and the slight muskiness has a kind of vintage BPAL quality that is nowhere to be found in that Yule.

This is instant love for me. I have been dreaming of this scent perusing this year’s releases. Lace Lichen, Serpent in the Lilacs: both are lovely, but this delivers what I had hoped each would be before I tested them. The patchouli here is fully dimensional. I don’t get one or two aspects like I often do even in simple blends. Instead I am seeing a full picture of every patchouli I have known. There is that phantom mushroom that patchouli can conjure, that green hissy quality I get in the blends I most enjoy it in, an almost woody huskiness that I enjoy far less when that’s all I get from it, a dark chewiness I have read about but not experienced in the BPAL universe, and a confounding shimmering glow that I am starting to appreciate as an effect of patchouli that I love but never thought to credit it with. But the iris changes everything! The iris is more abstract than the patchouli. I don’t get powdery or earthy orris, but an abstract iris accord made up of cool, steely, and violet purple components. Ther is a definite resemblance to the lab’s paper accord. Somehow the iris makes this into an airy, glassy blend—I definitely understand the associations with the “crystal vase.” I would say the blend veers even a little bit into soap territory (but in the most delightful way) with those violet facets of the iris accord. I’m fascinated by the interplay between the iris and patchouli accords, the way the iris elevates and transforms its wonderfully earthy comrade into something airy, light, dazzling, and clean!

Eros Scolded by Venus reminds me a LOT of one of my favorite LE’s from last year, Vision, which is somewhat surprising given the absence of silk, neroli, carnation, clove, and and oakmoss in the listed notes. Eros Scolded by Venus is simpler, more languid, and a lot more rosy than Vision. The roses are the star here and to me they read as a unified accord. In fact all of the notes seem to meld into a lovely, multifaceted rose. BPAL rose aficionados may be able to tease apart the red and white roses and there’s elements here I imagine might correspond to those colors. The rose is clove-spicy (red?), raspberry-jammy (red?), musk-creamy (white?), with a subtle green sharpness especially in the first hour (thorn?). Not sure where the blood is—BPAL has so many ideas of blood in its roster so it might be contributing to the spice or the subtle, pleasant metallic quality of the green that I am reading as the thorn. Myrtle to me often reads as shadowy and somber, and I think it may be there if I search for it—the rose aspects are quite bright but there is a depth to this scent that myrtle might be contributing. Luscious, dreamy, gorgeous ! And just as loud as her winter sister, Vision!

The serpent in the lilacs is true to its name. The lilacs here are soft and hazy, lacking the tactile quality of some other ljlac blends like Eusapia. But they are definitely lilac! Among them slithers patchouli, acting just how I like it. Nothing gnarly or husky here, just a little bit of shimmering green sharpness, which in a snake context I might describe as “hissy,” which I get more often with the lab’s “green patchouli” or “patchouli leaf” blends. Vanilla and musk soon join the cloudy lilac and feel like very natural companions. I agree w one of the above reviewers that the vanilla feels slinky, and the musk is silvery, cool, and clean without going soapy. The sleek musk, silky vanilla, and flickering patchouli make this feel very modern and chic rather than blousy and romantic, as I expected. I can basically get the patchouli, lilac, vanilla, and musk in turns throughout the wear. I ordered this decant as a concession to my twin, but it turns out I like it much better than they do. It’s just so easy, breezy, and undeniable to me. Pure lilac bliss w just a whisper of danger. This and The Serpent in the Carnations were my first encounters with the legendary Snake Oil and while TSitC didn’t work on me, this makes me excited to try more snakey blends !

The Fox Spirit’s Jest opens with a beautiful gnarl of patchouli, sweetened in wildflower honey given a slightly frosted effect by the silk, similar to the patchouli and aldehydes in Frosty Silkybat HG (which my lovely decanter included a sample of as a freebie). This isn’t a cold scent though, the frost is miraculously body-warm from the gorgeous honey and a subtle application of musk. I have several FBs of blends w strong red silk notes, and here it really melds with the other notes, and doesn’t give a fruity impression as it does in Vision and In Ictu Oculi. I don’t think this should read as soapy on anybody. On the other hand, I don’t usually enjoy patchouli, but here it is really lovely. Honey, too, can be hit or miss, but this is a strong and gorgeous honey reminiscent of wild woodlands but also providing just enough sweetness. So everything is on its best behavior. As it dries down, a tweedy, somewhat dusty, and spicy chypre character emerges. I’m surprised there’s no listed carnation note, because this is definitely a SPICY floral chypre, and there is a family resemblance to other spicy Lupers like The Serpent in the Carnations and The Crimson. I don’t get the rose distinctly yet, but there is a floral airiness to what could be an impenetrable thicket of earthy notes. I still get that vague warmth, as well. I think the musk is just kind of humming along rounding everything out and keeping it a little more approachable. After an hour or two the rose is more distinct, and continues to gain strength as it melds w the musk, and gradually this becomes primarily a rosy musk scent. Overall, this is a really enjoyable complex blend, showcasing the best sides of its most divisive elements. You do need to enjoy a dusty, spicy, even ragged chypre profile, but if that’s you then don’t fear anything else going on here. Edit: Ok based on the other reviews I am experiencing a tremendous skin chemistry win here, so maybe you should fear some stuff going on here. Sitting my butt down and learning.

Buttery rice enlivened by sunny yuzu and fresh jasmine. The butter note dies down and rice becomes starchier and chewier. In the drydown I finally get a subtle tea black tea note, classic BPAL. But with the chewy rice already in play, it doesn’t necessarily have that chewy character I associate with it. Instead, it hovers above this bright and lively scent like a dark veil. I also start to get the smoked vanilla on drydown, bringing this scent into Dorian territory (albeit much more refreshing). The smoke is just the subtlest thread and adds a glimmer of interest. I like this scent, but I don’t like the buttery cast that never quite dissipates. I think this one might struggle to find its audience despite its beauty and coherence. It veers into a lot of controversial territories that don’t necessarily have overlapping fanbases: it’s fresh yet gourmand, with a touch of smokiness. But I also realize if I could tolerate the butteriness this would definitely be a love for me. I’m kind of bummed neither of the shunga tea decants (the other being the first tea ceremony of the year) were obvious winners. I like both of them, but both push me out of my comfort zone into gourmand territory. I will probably hang on to both decants and see if they grow on me or settle into something more comfortable for me.

This scent to me basically breaks down into a sharp, bright frankincense accord over a dark, foody, and slightly funky honey accord. The frankincense is accompanied by the citrus blossoms and cedar, whereas I presume the white honey is getting its darker character from the musky amber. I don’t really get any ylang ylang, which is a shame because it might help bridge the two halves of this scent. This wears like a shunga equivalent of Carved Wooden Nativity Scene on me. I didn’t enjoy Carved Wooden Nativity Scene and while Rapturous Spouses and Curious Cat is more dignified, less cloying, and has a more intriguing complexity, I don’t really care for it either. That being said, it does have a classic shunga feeling about it and is pretty true to the description (except for the ylang ylang), so it will probably be a winner on those who like shungas, dark honey scents, and chiaroscuro effects. I will be going with the sunnier and frothier Lesbians Cavorting with a Tortoishell Dildo for my honey fix from this years Lupers.

Wow… I was kind of unimpressed by this one fresh out of the mail but it is really settling into something spectacular. Cavorting, indeed! This is one joyful, tumbling scent: wild mosses and a gorgeous “wildflower” style honey made bright and airy by the red silk brocade. Underneath is dry, mulchy, teakwood. Totally agree with the woodland fantasy vibe mentioned above, especially the “running” part! Like running barefoot through the most enchanting, sun-dappled deciduous forest over mosses and twigs with no regard for how you might be getting scratched up or what might be getting caught in your hair. It’s a somewhat odd interpretation of the visual data of the artwork because of the outdoorsiness of the scent, but Lesbians Cavorting is true to the spirit of that carelessly tossed aside crumpled paper. Out of its fellow Lupers, Lesbians Cavorting has definite overlap with “The Fox Spirit’s Jest,” which is ironically a little more fussy and buttoned up. Even its earthiness seems more self-serious than the frothy mosses Lesbians Cavorting to me. I have been collecting red silk scents despite not even being so wild about the accord on its own; the lab’s silk notes just seem to add life to any of their playmates. This is different enough from my others that it might warrant a spot in my collection. I just need to decide how many bottles I am able to limit myself to from this out of this world update. I mean, how could I pass up this kind of carefree joy in a bottle? Honey lovers, moss lovers, silk lovers, and teak lovers, rejoice !

If you have made it to this thread, you probably understand what kind of blend we’re dealing with here. I was excited to try it because I love olive notes but it’s really not for me. I mostly get white musk with olive blossoms, vanilla, and a little cedar. It’s very feminine in a contemporary department store vein. Pleasant but feels jarring to have on my body.

Just one plume? I get three wafting together in braided harmony right off the bat. Cypress has the boldest character, but dry and airy sandalwood and denser, nut-bitter agarwood are just as present. The moss silk has a snappy, taut green quality. Those delicate tendrils of incense rise to inflate your green silk hot air balloon (why don’t we take this thing out more?) and carry you miles into the yellow amber sunset to the gentlest eventual moss landing. The yellow amber really is the star on my skin; warm, bright, and smoooooooth. The calla lily comes out after an hour or two and really adds to the smooth, gliding impression of this scent. It’s strange how much the floral and amber feel unified here, warm and yellow yet somehow refreshing. I’m thrilled because many BPAL ambers do not work on my skin, becoming either cloying or dry and scratchy. I’ll have to remember that YELLOW amber is my friend. When I first tested this, the wonderful sandalwood was in the foreground, and even reminded me of the billowing sandalwood of my beloved old favorite Visions of Autumn VII. I think this isn’t going to recreate that magic, but it has magic all its own. And always, there is a crackling hum of incense drifting in and out of perception, growing slowly more mossy and terrestrial as that big yellow sun begins to set. I was thinking I was gonna have to pick between a full bottle of this and Lu Zhishen Pulls the Weeping Willow Upside Down, both possessing a frizzly yet meditative cypress opening. But they are settling down so differently ! Lu Zhishen is bracing and active throughout, where Plume of Incense is happy to let you just enjoy the ride. If anything I’ll probably death match with A Cup of Tea in the Veranda from this year’s yules to see which calm but entrancing glowing amber-floral will claim a spot in my cart.

Hmm… this one is not for me. The pepper is nice in the opening, but the sandalwood is going in two directions at once: warm bittersweet incense and dry sandalwood soap. I think the silk is probably pulling it soapy and the charred part of the silk is joining up with the incense-y aspects of the sandalwood. The ambergris is there as well but is reading as vaguely sweet and powdery. The notes are just not presenting the faces I most appreciate about them.

This was one of the surprise wins of my dangerously delightful shunga decants. The opening of LSPtWWUD is so resplendent: meditative yet stimulating, a collection of herbal-woody notes that are more neat bundle than wild tangle. I don’t know what willow, ho wood or strawflower smell like, but the clary sage and cypress are definitely present. There is a mentholic yet spicy herbal character along with pleasantly springy wood. My twin says “spa” but LSPtWWUD is not the kind of spa fragrance that you are gonna apply and then forget about. Gradually, the golden musk emerges, and somehow its ambery warmth doesn’t seem at all at odds with that cool, austere opening. There is a consistent airy quality to the whole scent that somehow ties everything together and creates an effect that says SHUNGA ! As it has settled, the opening lasts longer and longer into the drydown. At first it kind of turned to generic men’s fragrance with musk and vetiver after the first half hour, which was very heartbreaking. Now the fascinating opening accords linger blessedly on for the first couple hours and I’m hoping they will stick around even longer as my decant continues to settle. Although patchouli is listed in this, I am not really getting it at all. I can believe it’s there, but it is much quieter here than in any other of my oddly patchouli-heavy Luper decants. And throughout the wear I get hints of something that reminds me of lime? But it is very elusive and can’t really put my finger on what I’m smelling. This scratches the same greenish meditative itch for me as Plume of Incense, despite the lack of incense in this blend. LSPtWWUD is definitely fresher, more active, and more masculine if you care about that kind of thing; whereas Plume of Incense really toes the line between engagement and indolence. In any other release, both would be obvious full bottle buys for me, but this year’s lupers are so good that I will probably end up with only one.

This one is pretty linear and smooth, blended to feel like a singular substance (spice girls two become one vibes). Strongly masculine to me, this is definitely not a hetero love story. It even veers slightly in the department store direction of gay classics like Chanel Antaeus and (even more so) YSL Kouros. Usually BPAL’s more resolutely masculine blends turn me off, but Mars and Venus is so much subtler than, say, iago or the black rider. Nonetheless we find ourselves firmly in (genuinely) sexy boy soap territory, as the bathhouse art should already have signaled. Mars and Venus is a balance between warm and cold, rugged and smooth. We have here a delightfully easy amber accord paired with cool oakmoss, which gives a soapy impression when combined with what I believe is an ambrette-ish musk hidden in here. I sense a smidge of patchouli in the amber and maybe a whisper of subtly smoky vetiver in the green malachite side of things. Despite the warm amber, the moments of rugged patchouli and vetiver, the overall impression is smooth and cool, even slightly mineral. But the warm impression does give life to the scent, as if we are indeed presented with a fleeting moment preserved for eternity. Within the BPAL GC universe I am most reminded of Yorick, only here we have immortality instead of decay, integrity instead of dissolution. Still, both give the same sense of easy but slightly starched masculinity fit for the right queer. I have really been enjoying the couple of gaysploitation scents hiding in the seasonal collections this year and within that lens this is a lovely counterpoint to the equally ambery but more tortured and invert-coded A Cup of Tea in the Verandah. There is no yearning here, only confident fulfillment.

I read online that at the first tea ceremony of the year, “everyone attending dresses up and uses the most distinguished kimonos. However, the kimono patterns are kept faint so as not to steal attention away from the tea. On this day everyone attending dresses up and uses the most distinguished kimonos. However, the kimono patterns are kept faint so as not to steal attention away from the tea.” Now, look at those vivid garments in the art! The sex isn’t the only breach of etiquette here. Indeed, “The First Tea Cermony of the Year” is its own distraction from respectability. I was expecting a sensible pale, starchy, or perhaps grassy green scent. What I get is the equivalent of those garish garments: a deep, prismatic, strawberry accord. This is not a pink teenybopper strawberry candy, despite its dessert inspiration, but a deep, complex redness that I think is meant to convey the saturated silks that dominate the image. Other reviewers are identifying other possible red/fruity notes and I agree that it’s not a straightforward strawberry, but a kind of swirling and sparkling strawberry mirage. Still, dear reader, strawberry is my main impression. If I had to guess what else is here I might include plum—there is a glinting tartness that I very much associate with that fruit. The matcha is present and beautiful—nutty, fresh, and delicate, not harshly green and astringent—but it is very much not the center of attention. I don’t get the rice or bean notes, although the version of matcha here could easily be absorbing any pale, starchy impressions. I would never have ordered even a decant if the description said “strawberry,” but I am surprised how much I’m enjoying this. I will definitely be using up my decant and might even be upgrading to a bottle depending on how much I reach for it and how it settles. Starch-craving tea lovers, fear not! Couple Engaged in Intimate Acts as the Man Pours Tea could be for you, as long as you enjoy black tea and jasmine. Edit: As this has aged, it does smell starchier. It’s difficult for me to tease apart the starchiness and matcha but they are both there. For me they combine into a kind of cool, greenish white starchy sweet powder accord alongside the still aggressive dark red fruitiness. I’m still enjoying this one a lot and I’m definitely considering a full bottle. I think it’s a fun silly scent to wear to parties without totally lacking gravitas.