Assimbya

I would call this a sister scent to The Woman Behind It from this Halloween's Yellow Wallpaper collection; though they share few notes in common, their sensibilities are very much akin, which feels appropriate to their respective source materials (my review of Woman Behind It is here). While Woman Behind It reminded me of dried flowers on a vanity, this reminds me more of dried flowers within the pages of a diary, smeared with ink from being enfolded there while the writing was still wet. Violet is the most prominent note here to me (and I'd say for me it seems like the flower rather than the leaves); violet is pretty low on my list of florals, and in this blend it does indeed have the prim, candied sweetness which often turns me off it as a note; this is complicated and made more interesting by the dark sharpness of the ink note, which is distinct without being overpowering. (This is a combination which also occurs effectively in the recent Black Butterfly Moon, but there are many other notes which distract from the violet-ink pairing.) This has more substance than The Woman Behind It; still a ghost, but one who might have the capacity to rattle at the windowpanes. Like that other scent, it's not for me, but I appreciate it as an effective evocation of this moment in the novel, and will for now keep my decant.

Cool, removed, pale, contained; I definitely agree with @wilhelmscream's identification of this as ghostly and something that might belong in the Evening with the Spirits Collection. There's a sweet, powdery, iris-rose-vanilla combination (iris definitely getting first billing in that list!) which reminds me of dry, crumbling flowers on an antique vanity, but which is slashed through with a sharply herbal lavender. The ambergris didn't come through when I first received my decant but now, after a few months of rest, it gives a slightly salty undertone, just to the left of living flesh. Very much Victorian femininity, and its sharpness fits that sensibility too, a pointed, cutting word alongside the almost cloying sweetness of that particular performance of social gender. I appreciate and admire this, but I rarely find myself wanting to wear it; my taste inclines towards fresher flowers than this, and a more exuberant and overflowing idea of femininity. But I'll keep my decant around, at least for now, for those moments when I want to sit with this sensibility.

I really adore this; it's my favorite cardamom BPAL scent so far, and, though I've been being indecisive about it for the past few months, I will likely end up getting a bottle, maybe when I finish my imp and start to miss it. I definitely get a lot of cardamom from this one, and it feels like cardamom in all its facets; dry, powdery, just a touch earthy, and then into the almost floral sheer, airy quality which makes one remember why it goes so spectacularly with rose in desserts and teas (I'd love a rose and cardamom bpal...). The white amber and orris are very present but not obtrusive, smoothing this out and bring a liquid elegance which keeps this firmly in the realm of perfume rather than the impression that I've just spilled a bunch of cardamom on my skin while baking. On me the vanilla is pretty subtle, but it's a nice floral breath underneath, and I imagine it would show up more in an aged bottle. I get pretty good throw and great longevity from this, and it feels complete in itself to me; I don't seem myself particularly wanting to layer it (even with rose). I have a decant of Dahlia hair gloss, though I haven't tried it in perfume oil form yet, and I prefer Aasimar and get the cardamom more clearly from it; Dahlia for me is significantly smokier, and the amber is heavier and takes up more attention. I like Dahlia too and want to spend more time with it, but I'm glad I went for an imp of Aasimar first rather than blind bottling Dahlia as I was tempted to from reviews.

Okay, this one fascinates me but also makes something in my mind cross and tangle up a little bit, I can't make sense of it! The combination of the realistic dirt note with the clean coldness of the musk and metal (which I'd agree doesn't feel blackened to me, it's gleaming bright steel) has a severe kind of beauty to it, but it's also sparks strangely in my brain. The musk, which I'd agree with @leptonpyr is the same one from The Erl-King's Pale Daughter (though fortunately for me that musk likes my skin more than it does hers!) has a sweetness to it and softens the atmospheric qualities enough to make this surprisingly easy to wear for a dirt perfume; I wouldn't be concerned about wearing this in mixed company, though I would be curious what impressions others picked up of it. Reflecting on it, I feel like many of The Erl King collection scents (especially those concerned with the titular figure himself) are walking this line between atmospheric and wearability, conveying hints of the menace of the story while also making perfumes that people will feel comfortable wearing. In Doubt and In Dread was one that I felt too much sacrificed the menace for wearability, particularly given the point in the story in represents, while His Grasp Is So Cold leaned further in the atmospheric direction. His Crown and His Shroud stands right in the middle, and it almost feels like a trompe-l'oiel - if you don't know the origin it could pass as unthreatening but slightly odd; a clean, musky perfume with a dirt note that would probably be confusing if you didn't know the notes list. With the knowledge of the inspiration, the elements rearrange themselves and you can imagine the ice and earth and steel, the tensile energy between them as the Erl King draws his strength from both; the whole is much more chilling. I like this. I don't know how much I'm going to wear it, but it feels like a special thing to me, and I'm glad to have my decant and for the ways it makes me think.

This is a very well-blended scent, and with the vast array of notes I have some difficulty picking them out and distinguishing them; it also shifted quite a bit over the course of wear for me. It starts as a floaty, indistinct floral + musk; I would agree that iris is probably the central note at this point, as confidently as I can get it, and a vanilla-adjacent sweetness which I think is the heliotrope (or maybe benzoin?). Color palette matching to the artwork, very silver-gray-blue, delicate and pretty; it's very lovely at this stage, but wasn't winning my heart. However, after a few hours of wear it develops a different depth and complexity, with the dry, resinous facets of the scent coming forward as well as a different floral note with which I am less familiar and which I have to assume is tobacco flower. After ~6 hours the throw was low, but I quite distinctly got the honeyed beeswax and it was beautiful; I kept wanting to smell it again right before I had to wash it off in the shower! My first couple tests of this I wrote it off as a simply pretty and nothing else, but I'm glad I gave it another try with more attention to how it developed over time; this one really rewards that attention, and like @amoray says I suspect this might benefit from aging. I'm considering a bottle of this one, though I'm not sure and it may depend on how many of my Lupercalia decants get upgraded; I didn't think I needed another delicate iris scent after Gloomily and Equivalent No. 314, but the dry down stage of this is different and special, and if what I'm identifying there is indeed tobacco flower then it's the best showcase for it I've experienced from bpal thus far. If these floral notes appeal to you I'd recommend trying it.

I was given a decant of this as a frimp by a lovely fellow member of the forum, and I'm so glad that I was, though I would never have thought to buy it for myself. It starts out with sweet, cheerful blackberry, slightly tart but not overwhelmingly so, grounded by the orris; as it dries I get more orris and the lab's distinctive white amber note, familiar from Tomie among other places, which draws it out of the realm of fruit into something that feels quite elegant, sheer, and pulled together, more complex than a three note perfume seems like it should be. This is confirming my guess that blackberry was one of the bpal fruit notes which works best on me, and I am glad to have a decant of it.

I totally adore this, and have been delaying writing a review because I don't think I have much to add to what previous reviewers have described so splendidly, but I thought I might as well add a voice of agreement. Shadowed, fruitlike jasmine (I love @ShadowEtienne's description of it as like nectar, that's perfect), in humid nighttime air. The citrus is most prominent at the start, as one might imagine, and I think I would identify it as a kind of orange, but it's gentle and doesn't go sour or artificial on me the way orange notes sometimes do. The jasmine feels very alive and full in all its facets. I am so happy to have this, and think it will be especially lovely to wear in the summer.

This is primarily jasmine on me, with light honeysuckle and only really a hint of the amber backing it. The jasmine note is I think the same as from the GC Nyx, with the textured, almost waxy quality it has in Nyx. I enjoy this jasmine note, but it feels richer and fuller to me in Nyx than it does here. This one is very pleasant, but between Nyx and Twilight (which also has jasmine + honeysuckle) I'll be fine with my decant and won't be seeking out a bottle.

Unfortunately this ended up unwearably indolic and animalic on me, which was an unwelcome surprise since these tend to be notes which all work on me and I don't normally have a problem with indolic notes in white florals. If I really look for it I can get hints on pretty champaca and amber here, but the indolic element overpowers it all to the point that I had to wash this off. Alas, not for me! I'll try to rehome my imp to someone whose skin chemistry gets along better with this one.

I was a little wary of this in the bottle and then wet on my skin; the earthiness is indeed intense, and I suspected an unlisted patchouli note. However, as it dries the silky orchid petals come through and the earthiness recedes, very much like an orchid growing out from the root; it's a very cool effect. And it's a really beautiful orchid note, dry and smooth and mysterious, the earthy root grounding it, with a touch of the vegetal. It's orchid show season at my local botanical garden, and though most orchids do not have a scent, I smelled all of them to find the few that did. Among those was one which smelled very much like this, white and purple and shaped nearly like an iris. I love this and am so glad I picked it up.

This is very much neroli and vanilla on me. I get hints of the other notes - a soft, not particularly spicy carnation; a smooth base note which I think must be a combination of the the brass and amber; and on, dry down, some pretty olive quality - but much more neroli and vanilla than anything else throughout wear. The combination skews more gourmand than I would have expected, reminding me of a creamy orange blossom ice cream I once bought myself for my birthday. I loved eating that ice cream, but I don't actually know that I want to smell like it! I would have liked something a little weirder and more atmospheric from this, with the brass and olive leaf more prominent. But as it is I think it will appeal to many people who prefer that more gourmand sensibility. I'll have to spend some more time with my decant to decide whether I want to keep it around.

On me this is crisp pink peonies and tulips, backed by white musk and a gentle vanilla; I don't get much rose or, alas, hyacinth (so my hyacinth quest must continue!), just a hint of each, but it's very lovely. It feels almost to me like a sister scent to Idyll, which is fitting as the paintings which inspired them are of similar styles; this is pink where idyll is golden (also like the differences between the paintings) and spring where Idyll is summer, but the combination of light, delicate florals with the vanilla backing them feels very related. It starts wet as mostly the nearly aquatic floral notes, but on dry down the musk and vanilla both ground the scent beautifully.

This is recognizably the same rosewater note from Razors in a Doll's House in the Carnival Diabolique collection - it's a sweet, gently fruity rose, here blended with a soft, lightly powdery gardenia. It feels very pink to me, and feminine in a very nineteenth-century type of a way. Tremendously pretty, and there's a cleanness to it as previous reviewers have suggested, though it's not at all soapy. I assumed the painting of which this was an interpretation was the George Seurat of this title, and so my immediate association was of course Bernadette Peters in this iconic Sondheim role. After a little bit of research I realized that the inspiration for the scent was a different 19th century painting by the same title, and I am mildly disappointed! But I could still absolutely see this as Dot's perfume, and love imagining as the scent she applies before her mirror in the above-linked song, imagining herself as a follies girl. The scent doesn't feel quite me, and it's not my dream gardenia (so far that spot goes to Mrs Emma Marsh), but it's so pretty and likable, and I'm delighted to have a scent that makes me think of Dot, even if that association was based on a misapprehension. I'll definitely be keeping my decant.

I picked up a decant of this in the hopes of better understanding and recognizing tuberose, and it certainly is serving that purpose for me. This is a very soft, gentle amber, just supporting the tuberose which is which is rich, lush, and buttery, sister scent to gardenia but without gardenia's perfumey sharpness; I think it's a little less complex than gardenia or jasmine as well. It is strong and unmistakable here, and it is absolutely helping me make sense of all the other blends in which it plays a more supporting role. At the start the butteriness is a little much for me, though the scent is beautiful; over time the butteriness calms down a little and it becomes a much more wearable, elegant perfume. I am very glad to have this and will most definitely wear and enjoy it, though I don't feel the need to seek out a bottle.

I'm the first review! That always feels like too much pressure. On me this is predominantly a narcissus scent, and it's the paperwhite-like sharp indolic version with which I am familiar from the GCs Langour and Hunger. As it dries down, I get more hints of the other notes; a soft sandalwood, earthy saffron, and just the faintest hint of vanilla. The narcissus remains central, but a couple hours in the other notes have given it a lot more balance; it still has the thin, grasping quality I associate with this narcissus note, but tempered by the calm of the other elements. Narcissus is one of the few bpal floral notes with which I struggle, and I'm struggling with it here; it simultaneously fascinates and repulses me, in what feels like a quite visceral way. I like it in combination with these other notes, but it's still sort of on the edge of wearable for me. I think is a very well-done narcissus, and if you are a fan of the lab's narcissus note I would definitely recommend it as a lovely showcase for it, but if you're narcissus-ambivalent like me it might be a little much. I'm going to keep my decant while I continue to make sense of my narcissus feelings, but won't need a bottle of this one.