darkitysnark

Capricorn

 

It was inevitable. I had to order my sign, and after reading the reviews was even more interested to try it out. I ordered right before the discontinuation, so I'm glad I got the chance to try this!

 

In the bottle:

Sharp, strong, medicinal. This is coming across as a very assertive blend.

 

Wet:

Knowing how strong it has been on others, I just did one swipe between my wrists. My first impression is of Chinese medicinal herbs. Sometimes blends that evoke Chinese medicine are comforting to me, but this one is very bright, high, and sharp. More like the actuality of the tart, pungent little black beads I used to have to swallow rather than the memory of curling up on the couch on a sick day drinking my mother's hot and sour soup.

 

Drydown:

The medicinal edge subsides somewhat and cedar takes over. This isn't the mellow cedar of Tombstone but rather a pugnacious, in-your-face cedar. Though the Mr. has a cold even he can smell it on me halfway across the room. He reports "Pinesol" however, so I think his sense of smell is still a bit compromised.

 

Later:

It's been about four hours and this sucker doesn't show any signs of fading away. I could even smell it through my gloves while we were driving around. The cedar is still dominant, though I went through a very unpleasant mothball stage as well. Now the blend has settled into a fresh clear incense that is oddly as bright green as it is dark, dry and woody. Also for some reason I'm getting some sort of dark, ripe fruit... but it's not juicy. It's like a smoked plum or something.

 

Conclusion:

I'm putting this up for swaps. I like parts of the blend (some of the incense, some of the cedar, that weird smoked fruit smell) but taken as a whole this is just too overpowering for me.

Chiroptera

 

A beautiful gimp from the ever generous clover on a recent swap, thank you!

 

Somehow, the vast majority of gimps I've received (either via the lab or other serendipitous means) contain some sort of rose note (Nyx, Catherine, Kostnice, etc.). I am not a rose person. But. I'm being turned to the dark side by all these lovely blends!

 

In the bottle:

My first impression was actually of alcohol perfume. I'm chalking this weird shock to the extreme cold we've had around here and my continued recuperation from the Killer Kold. Perhaps my schnozz isn't yet up to snuff, so to speak.

 

Continued huffing draws out a very clean (lemon?) herbal taste (sage and thyme?) in the back of my throat.

 

Wet:

Right after I applied, and I mean the little wand top isn't even back on the bottle yet, I get ROSE. My skin has a tendancy to seize and amplify anything rose like no matter what else is in the blend.

 

"Hoo boy," I think, "old-lady-ville, here I come!"

 

It doesn't help that I apply my rosewater scented handcream right after.

 

Drydown:

The rose is still the most prominent note, but I'm getting something more subdued and sweetyellow (honeysuckle?) as well. There's also a powdery dry herbal balancing out the initial burst.

 

This has turned into a very clean, calm floral... which is not something I would have imagined possible on me until today. I'm really impressed. This and Kostnice are very compelling arguments for me to rethink my anti-rose ways.

 

Later:

It's been about 2.5 hours. I'm getting a little waft, but this is more of an intimate blend for me. One for myself, and maybe one other person who I'll let into my sphere.

Baba Yaga

 

(**Note: another review copied over from my accidental posting to the bpal dot org forum.**)

 

This was a gimp from the divine Laurel_the_Woodfairy that I snagged because of my love of folk and fairy tales. I don't think I even realized that it was an unreleased scent at the time... I was a bit flustered by Laurel's travelling matchbox of imps (she's hardcore, yo). Thanks, Laurel!

 

Unfortunately, I succumbed to a nasty cold almost immediately after receiving this imp, so my impressions might be a bit skewed and are being pulled through my fuzzy memory.

 

In the bottle:

As per all the above reviews, this is a very sunny, cheery looking oil. I'm getting a heady non-berry fruitiness (apparently pineapple) that transported me not to a hut on a chicken leg, but white sand beaches. There's a hint of musky flowers in the background, like a strange native flower placed in a dried coconut shell next to my beach towel.

 

Wet:

The fruit rolls up and out and expands bright and high, with a lower musky middle ground. The power of suggestion has me imagining a crone in a flying mortar careening through an old wood forest, broom held rudder-like out the back. She's got leaves and wind in her hair, her eyes are bright, she's full of joy and mischief.

 

Drydown:

I don't remember much change at this phase, but I'll update when I get a chance to try this again (on my much improved, less snotty schnozz).

 

Much, much later:

Once again, hazy recollection has blurred my responses to the hours-later sniff test. But the next day my jacket collar and my scarf were redolent with that lovely combination of bright, tangy fruit and mellow, languid musk.

 

I'll definitely try this at least one more time (if only to update this review) and I need to dig up my old storybooks again!

Kabuki

 

(**Accidentally posted in bpal dot org forum, updated here. My apologies if this turns into a repeat if/when the forums merge.**)

 

Another lovely gimp from the lab, thank you! I was not sure how cherries would react to me, so this was low on my list, but I'm glad I got to try it. Actually, one of my best food memories is of eating pounds of black cherries on the Fourth of July and spitting pits into the field as we watched the fireworks.

 

In the bottle:

Dark cherry syrup.

 

Wet:

Cherries! Not the bright red of marachinos (sp?) but more of the ooey gooey center of a high end confection enrobed in the darkest chocolate. I just keep thinking "darkity dark dark dark"... which is probably heavily influenced by the color of the oil in the imp. This is one of the darkest blends I've tried so far. I can even see it on my wrist when I first apply it. This is strangely satisfying.

 

Drydown:

The anise is turning this into Twizzlers on me, very candy-like, but there's still darkness (which I have since dubbed the musk) lurking, keeping it from being full-blown candy-shop.

 

Later:

It's been about four hours and this one is fading fast. I'm not getting any waft, but can still pick up the dark candied cherry when I sniff my wrists.

 

Conclusion:

I am really straddling the fence on this one. This will probably go up for swap, but I feel like I've given her short shrift due to my on-again, off-again head cold that has really interfered with my imp testing. I might give her one more go just because the dark luscious color is so compelling.

Tombstone has elicited responses (good ones) from people halfway across the room. If you like somewhat manly vanilla, I think this one has good throw.

Danse Macabre

 

This was a gimp with my next-to-the-last order. I started taking notes but somehow did not manage to finish up my review the first time. Somehow I lost the gimp, and even though I already had another imp on another pending order, I was bereft and felt a little guilty about trying it again (some sort of responsibility=access to the preciouss logic). So finally, before the end of 2004 I tried again:

 

In the bottle

Very sharp and incensy.

 

Wet

Still sharp, but warming quickly. I'm feeling absolutely neutral.

 

Drydown

The incense loses its sharp edge and rounds out to a very straightforward smell: the scent of an altar after incense has been burned. You can still smell the incense, though the impact is lessened as it dissipates. There is a dry burnt wood implication in the background. Extremely grounding.

 

Later

This oil has medium staying power on me. At the end of the day I could still pick it up if I sniffed directly off my wrist. I did not get the hazelnut this second time but (if I don't lose this one!) will try again after my cycle to see if that changes.

 

Conclusion

Nice, but not great. Even with the slight layering of incense and wood this felt like a pretty straightforward scent to me. I think one of the things I like best about Beth's work is that many of her blends are constantly in flux: one note tumbling over another to blend and morph and shift throughout the day. I'll use up this imp and probably move on to other incensey blends (Kathmandu, Nosferatu, Brimstone, Eidolon, Capricorn).

 

I'm still having a little "bad mama" guilt about losing the gimp. Perhaps it'll be a little gift to myself again someday (kind of like those five dollar bills I manage to hide from myself sometimes).

 

ETA: nine months later and this oil has turned into one I loooove. I wore this several months ago to a house party thrown by some of my goth friends and days later, when I picked up the scent on my jacket I could conjure all the wonderful moments of that evening. This oil is permanently linked to that group of friends. Now that I'm on the other side of the country, it's an ol factory key to that room of my memory palace.

Jabberwocky

 

Got this as a swap with Velvet (thank you!) and have had my first heartbreak. I love this so much, but it just didn't last.

 

In the bottle:

The pine is very strong in the bottle, I can also pick up the orange faintly with the eucalyptus coming in third. From previous Pledgey experiences with lemon scents, I'm a little leary about citrusy things going to household cleaner on me... I'm worried the pine will turn to Pinesol.

 

Wet:

The orange takes over and absolutely blossoms. This scent is very light and gentle, so I slather. The eucalyptus and pine are also there, but a sweetness in the orange keeps everything from swinging toward medicine or cleaner. It's a very delicate, but very well struck balance.

 

Drydown:

As the oil warms and wafts, I fall absolutely in love. This smells so comforting. I'm home. All of the notes are so interwoven now that I can't pick them out. The Mr. is very "meh" about it (he loves French Creole, may she RIP) but I just can't stop smelling my wrists.

 

Later:

We went to see "The Nutcracker" and by the time we got out (maybe two hours later) Jabberwocky was gone. It was a beautiful scent, and having it waft while I was reminiscing about my days as a dancer had me in a very nostalgic mood. Normally when I think about "the old days" I get morose and morbid. Somehow seeing all those bright and eager ballerinas in their spangly tutus and smelling this perfectly balanced clean orange floating about had me smiling and practically sashaying along.

 

Conclusion:

I will definitely use up this imp, but the lack of staying power has me hesitant about getting a larger bottle. I will most likely use this as a personal pick me up for moments when I need to feel calm and comforted. Perhaps I'll rotate between Jabberwocky and Somnus for my bedtime scent.

 

Along with being a geeky, spangled, sashaying theatre nerd back in the day, I also memorized this poem and recited it (in a Scottish accent) all the time... much to my embarrassment now that I'm a self-conscious adult. Oh, the folly and bravado of youth!

Embalming Fluid

In the bottle:
Initially sweet fruit and flowers.
The second sniff elicits citrus and an aquatic note. On me aquatics tend to turn soapy, but the slight floral seems to keep that possibility in check, at least in this stage.

Wet:
The oil warms into an Earl Grey tea (edit: whoops, upon re-reading the description I see I'm on the wrong continent with my tea) citrus note. It's sharp and smooth at the same time. There's some other fruit lurking in the background... something red-orange and a little tart. Mostly this smells clean in a dirty sort of way. Like opening up a sumptuous hotel room to the crisp morning air after a night of debauchery.

Drydown:
It feels like this oil is at war with itself (or more like my sniffer is at war with my brain). The tea is still there, there's a cloying sweetness all around as well. I'm feeling a little repelled by this right now, but keep returning to check my wrists all the same.
:sniff:
"ew!"
:sniff:
"hm"
:sniff:
"mmmm"
:sniff:
"ew!"
repeat ad infinitum

2 hours later:
I think the musk is finally surfacing somewhat which relieves the unrelenting sunniness of the lemons. I'm still a bit wonky with the sweetness that has been rolling around the lemony freshness. I think this sugar-coated lemon-drop note is a bit over the top for me. Still, I can see why this is a favorite for light, clean, summery goodness. Perhaps the lemon, she is not for me.

Conclusion:
3.5 hours in, I can still pick up the tea/lemon/sweet/slight musk notes, but it's not as vibrant as it was. This will probably fade within the next couple of hours. This is firmly in the "maybe, but no big bottles" pile for me. Still, it's the best lemon blend I've tried so far (see also: Calliope disaster) which is saying a lot.

This was a freebie from the lab. As always I am astounded by their generosity, and grateful to have the opportunity to try blends that I might not have ventured out to try on my own. Thank you!

Nosferatu

 

In the bottle:

I don't know how the lab does it, but I smell wine in here! Dark, red, decadent. The next sniff pulls out crushed, decaying flowers. A funeral bouquet that is brown around the edges, stalks dried into shrivled twigs.

 

Wet:

This one seemed medium thick, so I stuck with one swipe on the wrists, one on the neck/collarbones. As this blend blossoms under my own body heat, I can pick up all sorts of conflicting notes: sweet overripe fruit, the bitter sting of incense resins, a faint soap/clean/aquatic note, and a smooth floral over all of it. I'm not too good with flowers (other than identifying obvious rose and jasmine notes) so I can't pin point which flower this is, but it's a calm, benevolent overseer to the rest of this rustling variation.

 

This scent isn't what one would traditionally call "foody"; nevertheless, I am oddly compelled to nibble on my wrists.

 

Drydown:

Earlier today, the sky was a solid, winter grey. As I walked toward work, a few raindrops splashed around me. Now, just thirty minutes later, the sky is black and flashing. Rain is coming down hard on the morning traffic. This is kind of how Nosferatu is reacting to my skin. At first, innocuous if a bit melancholy. A few minutes later it's woken up, and it's thrashing and vibrant and alive.

 

I'm not getting much waft now, about two hours in, but can still pick it up strongly if I wave my wrists around my face. The clamboring notes have settled into an uneasy peace. A dark fruity note (I'm guessing it's the wine, though it no longer screams "wine" as it did in the bottle) holds hands in the back seat with charred incense while this mature floral is driving, check back every once in a while in the rear view mirror to make sure no monkey business is going on.

 

Conclusion:

I'll update later with notes on lasting power. Currently I really like this one, but am concerned by the sudden drop off in hour two. Might just be ol factory fatigue. This has all the malevolent earthiness of Brimstone coupled with the adult floral otherworldliness of Queen Mab.

Masabakes

 

In the bottle:

This one morphed with successive sniffing. The initial sniff is very much like a harsh, alcoholic store version of French Creole. Then I got mingled indistinguishable sharp spices. At the very edge I picked up an anise/licorice note.

 

Wet:

Harsh, sharp spices. Almost a citrus-type tang, but without the usual orange/lemony/bergamot note... just the effect of biting into pith. Like many others, I kept wanting to pin down something that was clove, even though that is not listed as a component of this blend. The oil is rich looking, about medium thick. I tried to apply somewhat sparingly (one swipe shared between the wrists, one or two swipes along the neck and collar bones).

 

Drydown:

I'm not sure if it was the oil, or just getting into an office that had been closed over the weekend, but I couldn't stop coughing and sneezing. There was an irritated tickle in the back of my throat and I'm still sniffling now, about an hour later. I'm wafting like crazy. Every breath is almost assaulted by this oil. There is an underlying powdery sweetness to all this agressive spice, but it seems to amp up the aggression rather than subdue it. So far all these confusing phases place this imp firmly in the "maybe" pile. It's got all the elements I've discovered I like (darkness, spiciness, hint of fruit) but it hasn't yet settled down to something I can fully enjoy.

 

Conclusion:

I'm about two hours into the wearing right now. It's just as strong as ever. A bit calmer, and I am beginning to detect the fruity currant. This is very dark, brooding, and aggressive, but the powder note is starting to take over, which I don't think I like. Definitely maybe.

 

 

ETA: 8 hours later, I was wafting myrrh and spices, but sniffing preserved plums directly off my skin. This is a "treat" my parents favored as I was growing up. I didn't like the preserved plums because they still had their stones (I was one of those boneless, seedless food favoring children).

 

14 hours later, I could still faintly pick this up when I sniffed directly from my wrist.

Szepasszony

 

 

Another Lab freebie (huzzah!).

 

In the bottle:

clean, pure, bright fragile flowers bruised by hailstones

 

Wet:

there's a citrus tang, but mostly the flowers swirl up. This oil seemed relatively light, so I double swiped.

 

Drydown:

More clean, high floral. Everything is so melded to me I can't make out single notes. Aquatic=clean=almost soapy on me, but this is holding it's ground just at the threshold of soapiness.

 

It's been about two hours so far, I'll update at the end of the day on lasting power.

 

Conclusion:

I like this, but not enough to get more. I'm figuring out that I'm more of a "down low" note kinda gal, rather than these light, airy, "high" aquatic notes. Still, I will probably keep this imp for the rare day I need a light, non-aggressive buoyant scent... or when I haven't showered.

Loviatar

 

I got this as a lab freebie (thank you!) and after reading the notes, was a big scardey cat and held off trying her out until yesterday.

 

In the bottle:

sort of Tintagelly, which makes sense as they share the leather note. I'm not picking up the other notes yet, though.

 

Wet:

LEATHER. Whoa. I vascillate between liking and disliking this smell. Today is a dislike day. The oil seems thicker than other blends I've tried. I tried to apply a little less then my standard amount (one swipe shared between the wrists, another swipe curliqued along the neck and collarbones), but I still seem to have been heavy handed with the application.

 

Drydown:

Still predominantly leather. She's assertive, bossy, and a little bit scary!

 

Later:

this scent lasted all day, but had an interesting split-personality at the end of the day. I was still strongly wafting the LEATHER note, but up close, my wrists were just warm, comforting amber and myrrh. Interesting effect.

 

Conclusion:

I've figured out that I am not a leather person. I'll still wear Tintagel on occasion because of the berry/herbal counterpoint to the leather (and my Arthur-o-philia), but this scent is too distracting and just not me for usual, or even special occasion use.

 

This particular imp was gifted to a friend of mine for her birthday. She's whip-smart, assertive, and loves to make the men (and women) squirm. I think she'll love it.

Calliope

 

In the bottle:

This is hard to make out. It's light, fresh, somewhat floral, a little fruity. The back of my throat is saying "melony-lemon".

 

Wet:

Lemons. Lemon drops coated in Lemon Pledge.

 

Drydown:

Oh no. This smells exactly like Grandma Sloop's farmhouse. It's a combination of old lady and Lemon Pledge and that certain je ne c'est pas (Franglish, I know) of an old house slowly falling into ruin after 80 years of hard use. I can even conjure up the odd mint-green paint that coats every interior wall of that strange little farmhouse. While I have good memories of family gatherings in this place, the smell only conjures up bad ones: freezer-bitten leftover turkey, sleeping on cold sagging mattresses twenty years older than I, no heat in the upstairs rooms in December, crushing stunned wasps as they crawl out of the fireplace while unwrapping gifts. In fact... right now, this smell is evoking the memory of the depression glass bowl filled with twitching half-dead wasp carcasses while Nat King Cole singles "O Tenenbaum" and my niece tears into her next gift.

 

Ugh. I'm going to try to ride this "Grandma Sloop" phase out and see if she'll morph into something less... evocative. Still, I don't think she's going to be with me for very long...

 

Later:

Whew. Now all I'm getting is a soft, lovely lemon with a honeyed almond background. Nothing herbal still.

 

Conclusion:

As pleasant as this is in the bottle and on me four hours later, I just can't get past the Grandma Sloop phase. This is going into the "gift or swap" pile. I'm sure there's someone out there that will give her a good home.

Tombstone

 

Whoa, nelly! This one keeps morphing on me (in a mostly good way). Let's begin:

 

In the bottle:

I've started taking multiple sniffs of BPAL in the bottle lately, as it seems even in that small space of time that different notes can be drawn out with consecutive inhalations. At first I got the lichen/mossy/earthy dirt smell. Then, will additional sniffs, I started drawing out a clear, bright, sweet smell... I thought it was the vanilla, but it was sharpened by something else to make it more assertive and insistent.

 

Wet:

Hello vanilla! Wow! I think I went a little heavy with this one, and it turns out to be a stronger scent anyways, so I was completely bowled over by vanilla. Just as quickly as the vanilla knocked me over a nice calm woody note (cedar) sort of swept up behind. Interesting.

 

Drydown:

Here's where it got even more interesting. The vanilla morphed into sarsparilla sodie. At the same time the cedar got drier and darker and something like myrrh tickled the back of my throat. At one point I got an unpleasant myrrh/playdoh combination, but that was quickly enveloped by the sarsparilla.

 

In fact, I've had "sarsparilla" going through my head for the last two hours.

 

Aside: about 1.5 hours into wearing, I got my second unsolicited compliment (the first was for Morroco, and actually, it was the same person). She stopped by my desk and noted "something smells really good over here!". I almost gave her the imp then and there due to the weird playdoh period. But I held off. Something about Tombstone has got its hooks in me and I want to try this one at least one more time.

 

Later: I'm only about two hours into it, but I can tell that this is going to be an all-day long-lasting affair. The myrrh/playdoh is gone. There's a delicious, warm, manly vanilla that sort of wafts up while I'm typing. It seems to carry my body heat with it. Every once in a while I get a bit of the cedar wood. I have not detected the bright, minty note since huffing the bottle.

 

Conclusion: wow. This was a freebie from the lab. I'm glad they included this as it was probably a few orders down in my list of priorities... but this definitely has me curious about the other "vanilla" scents (Snake Oil et al) since this traditionally foodie scent has been treated so well.

 

Now I gotta go find me a sodie pop.

 

ETA: about 11 hours later, the scent is still there, albeit very faint. The Mr. couldn't really pick it up due to a cold, but I have decided this one's a keeper. When his schnozz is back in working order I'm going to have him try it out (and then probably ravish him)

Lightning

 

 

(This was one of many generous freebies from the lab. Thanks lab!)

 

In the bottle: sharp, clean, slight citrus and what must be "aquatic". Just... sharp and clean. Very much the opposite of my usual oils (dark and, um, dirty? more gritty/earthy/ambiguous)

 

Wet: the sharpness recedes and is replaced by... Bounce fabric softener. I'm think I might be one of those people on which "aquatics" turn into "clean, cleaner, powder" type smells.

 

Dry down: still Bounce-y, almost distractingly so. Though I do not mind the smell of Bounce (heck, it's my fabric softener of choice) I would like some of that sharp ozone back in exchange for fresh static-cling-free goodness. Ah well, this one is gonna be a swapper.

 

Later: this oil lasted about a medium amount of time. Not short lived, nor did it carry over into the evening. After eight hours I could make it out very faintly but only at very close range. One odd thing: my right wrist took on a yummy incensey tone at the end of the day while the left wrist remained Bounce-y. Odd.

 

I would not have picked this one out on my own, and am glad I had a chance to try something in a family that I have so far ignored. Still a bit gun shy of the aquatics, but perhaps someday I'll find the one that I can love (and that loves me back!).

Sudha Segara

 

In the bottle:

Clean. I got a very light, soapy, clean smell. Hiding in the back of my throat is a slight sharpness, which must be the ginger.

 

Wet:

The ginger warms up and briefly shoulders the clean smell to the side, but soap wins out.

 

Drydown & Later:

Unfortunately, it was a crazy day. I didn't really have an opportunity to check myself every hour or so to see how it smelled. I remember thinking at one point that the scent was extremely light, and wondering if I had applied enough to last throughout the day.

 

Eight hours later when I met up with my Mr. he said that he could smell something reminiscent of Indian incense on me, but I had been slathering Avon's Christmas hand lotion (smells like bug spray to me) and had been around food all day, so I'm not sure if he was picking up my oil.

 

So, I reapplied, and got this reaction from him:

 

"Grandma".

 

This is the dread verdict for all bath/beauty/perfume products I test out. Being declared "Grandma" requires that I no longer use said product if I want to avoid being associated with older ladies. He hasn't really been able to qualify exactly what consitutes the "Grandma" but I have narrowed down some aspects: cold cream smell, roses, and now, apparently, whatever this is.

 

He did concede that to him, this smells like "Clean Grandma".

 

I did apply (more liberally) a second time since I felt like I didn't give him (yeah, this one's a him too) a fair shake. I'm getting the ginger, and even a bit of the milky smoothness, but the soapy smell overpowers everything. Ah well, it's off to the swap pile!

Somnus

 

In the bottle:

Sharp, green lavender and jasmine. As noted by others, this scent was brighter and more assertive than I was expecting.

 

Wet:

The lavender retreats behind a soft, yet also oddly insistent jasmine. As per my Nyx review, I've got issues with jasmine. For the sake of my and my Mr.'s intermittent insomnia, I kept the oil on. (Incidentally, I swiped on both wrists, over the collar bone, and on pulse points on my neck.)

 

Dry down:

Jasmine, jasmine, jasmine. As I settled down to sleep, suddenly I was OK with the jasmine. The Mr.'s opinion: "It's OK, but not as good as some of the other ones."

 

Later:

Wish I could say something here. Immediately after my head hit the pillow I felt extremely relaxed and sleep-heavy. I didn't fall asleep right away, but it felt so good to just not move and sort of drift off to sleep. The Mr. was snoring about five minutes after I turned out the light, and it didn't even bother me. I woke up several times in the night (which I normally do) and was in such a rush this morning, I didn't ask the Mr. how he slept (I'll edit to add his experience later) but I think I slept well. Too well, maybe. My schedule was different this morning and I set the alarm for half an hour later than my usual time. I just could not get up. I fell asleep solid for another half hour (thus the rushing around like mad this morning). I will try this one again to see if I get the same results... but maybe not until the weekend. Just in case.

 

This morning, about 8 hours later, I could not detect even a hint of jasmine.

 

Somnus and French Creole are the only blends of the ones that I have tried that are intended to effect the wearer in some way. And both have. I'm not much of a believer in very much at all, but these two really seem to do the job.

Brimstone

 

Oh my goodness. I am-three hours later-still overwhelmed by the absolute menace of this oil.

 

It's the first BPAL to utterly confuse and confound me. Most of the others have been casual dates compared to this love/hate co-dependent roller coaster ride of a blend.

 

This is coming off as melodramatic, but I can’t describe it any other way. I’m thunderstruck.

 

In the bottle: overpowering dirt. My first reaction is “ick!” and the Mr.’s close behind with his own nose wrinkle. Gritty and charred. Not the freshly turned earth of spring planting, but the hard cold aftermath of a winter inferno. The remains of a childhood home after the Christmas tree exploded.

 

Still… after reading other reviews, I am compelled to stick this one out and give it a chance (after a week of thinking about it).

 

Wet: I dab very lightly, knowing that this blend is really strong on others. Again, the dirt fills my mouth, I get fidgety. The nervousness settles down to unease as a strong incense sweeps over the dirt. I smell ancient, and angry. Malevolent. The word “menace” springs to mind and sticks.

 

Drydown: I’m a little scared of my wrists for some reason. A little on edge. Do I dare sniff? Just the incense is wafting up, but there’s something dark behind it. I’m drawn to and conversely repelled by this. I’ve never had this kind of confusion with BPAL before. What’s going on?

 

3.5 hours later: Still strong as ever. I’m getting Indian grocery store. A combination of food spices, Nag Champa (sp?), and that rosewater soap they have in little cellophane wrapped bars. It’s not that I smell rose, but there’s a touch of that creamy, clean, sweet something I can’t pull out from the incense enough to identify. That sweetness is slowly, very slowly, softening the mean edge that was freaking me out.

 

I’m not sure what to make of this. My gut reaction is “no sir, don’t like it” but then why do I keep sniffing my wrists? Maybe it’s just a matter of wrong scent, wrong day. Death has been on my mind quite a bit recently, and something like this evokes too strongly a feeling of finality without a chance for redemption. Or maybe a buried memory is trying to surface. A lot of my smell-induced memories are rooted in old family visits to Hong Kong. I’m not getting specific moments right now, but this smells of that time.

 

I will try this one again when I feel more centered.

Queen of Sheba

 

(...another gift imp from clover)

 

In the bottle:

Very green crushed nuts... tart, sharp, a little scary.

 

Wet:

The green is almost overwhelming, but there is a hint at warmer spiciness behind the wave of green.

 

Drydown:

The green is subsiding (thank goodness!) and a warm, well-blended mixture of spices is blossoming. This has the same feel as Old Morroco to me. The scents are intertwined enough for me to have trouble discerning individual notes.

 

Hours later (approximately 8):

Mostly faded, but still a hint of honeyed, spicy goodness. The almond is still a bit green, but not nearly as sharp as fresh out of the bottle.

 

I like this one, but I don't love it. Given the choice of Old Morroco or this, I would still go with OM. This one seems a bit lighter, and the green tang, while it does subside, is enough to give me pause.

 

Definitely using up this imp though.

Old Kathmandu

 

I got this as a prize from clover's scavanger hunt contest.

 

In the bottle: lately I've been biking to work, which means that this phase is done after I've Supermanned myself into working clothes in the restroom and am rushing to get the last traces of street grime off of me before heading into the office. That's just a long way of saying I kind of speed through this part, and am affected by the smell of institutional bathroom cleaners so... maybe that's why I wasn't getting all the spicy strong goodness most of the other reviewers have. I could faintly detect cedar, and something ... fruity? This imp came in a package with other imps, including Tintagel, which I could smell when I opened the envelope, so I think that was probably what I was smelling...

 

Wet: whoa. I get Chinese medicine. The stuff my parents would keep in the medicine cabinet--tiny little vials (about imp sized, actually) of little black beads that I would take when I had a cold. So, not the vicks-vapo-rub other people seem to pick up, but definitely something medicinal.

 

Later: the morning fog started to lift, sunlight amping up the fall colors... then suddenly it clouded over, and the fog resumed wrapping around the buildings and houses and cars. Right now Old Kathmandu is mirroring this sort of quietly spooky insular feeling. I'm getting the incense notes now, and some wood that is somewhere between sandalwood and cedar. There's a little of the incense stick smell I got with Eidolon, though this does not have the citrus edge.

 

I'll write more when I've determined lasting power. So far it's the perfect scent for contemplative, foggy mornings!

 

 

ETA: At the end of the day I was going to add that it had faded completely; however, right before bed (and after going to the gym and biking home, no less!) a little bit more wafted up from my wrists. A pleasant, peaceful surprise ending to a pleasant, peaceful day.

My husband has actually requested that I get a bigger bottle of French Creole.

Nyx

 

This was a freebie in my first order. I have found through testing Queen Mab and Catherine that I am definitely not a rose person. Unfortunately, in the bottle and wet, that's all I could smell in Nyx.

 

In fact, and I'm a bit ashamed to say this, this was the first BPAL I washed off before going through the complete drydown and keeping it on to see how long it lasted on me. I just could not get over the rose.

 

I think I detected the jasmine too. I love jasmine blooming at night, but I don't think I like it on me. The first perfume oil I ever wore was a jasmine oil my father brought back from Egypt. It must have gone off because it never smelled lovely on me and I ended up throwing the rest of it away.

 

I'm either gong to swap this or find a rose-lover and gift it to them.

Witch's Dagger, I've been doing the same thing this whole thread. What wonderful and well thought out suggestions! (scribble scribble)

 

Of my first BPAL order (ten imps total) my favorites were Old Morroco and French Creole. I'm definitely most at home in the mysterious/musky/spicy family.

I'm not one for florals, apparently, so please keep that in mind during this review (and on my Catherine review as well).

 

In the bottle:

I'm getting the fruit that some of you got. Sweet, honey, floral. An instant recollection of little plastic Japanese figurines that my cousin played with in Hong Kong.

 

Wet:

ROSES! There's something about roses, no matter what the blend the rose smell dominates when the oil touches my skin.

 

Drydown:

The roses are politely stepping back and allowing some other florals to come to the forefront. Whew!

 

Three hours later:

Mmmm... there's still the florals, well blended now, but now I'm getting a warm waft of sandalwood behind the flowers. Very nice.

 

This is still too flowery for me to want a big bottle just yet, but I will use up my imp when I want to feel a little more feminine and naughty.

I received this as a freebie in my first order. I am, for better or worse, rose averse, so I was a bit hesitant to try this on at all.

 

But the weather has been dreary and awful and I thought a dab of something completely different would help to distract me from worrying througout the day. so....

 

In the bottle this smells purely of rose to me. Probably because that's what I was looking for.

 

Wet and just on, ROSE! Ack! No!

 

Drydown, still a very rosey smell. I can't pick up any other notes. I'm about to wash this off, I can't take it! But I decide to override my prejudices and wait it out.

 

Later... (about three hours in)

The rose is still there, but it's holding hands with something else, and I kind of like this friend of hers... the orange blossom? I don't detect the rosemary so much, but something is in there toning down the sheer rosiness of before.

 

This is still likely to either become a gift or a swap, but I need to reform my judgement on rose scents. I figure if anyone can reform my flower hatin' ways (does that make me a florist?) it will be the talented folks at BPAL.