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Showing results for tags 'Yule 2010'.
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HOLIDAY STRESS RELIEF Relax, revive, restore. Peppermint, spearmint, geranium bourbon, lavender, clary sage, white amber, juniper berry, laurel leaf, coriander, opoponax, and mandarin. Almond oil, refined rice bran oil, fractionated coconut, rosehip seed oil, Lavandula angustifolia, Juniperus communis, Salvia sclarea, Pelargonium graveolens, evening primrose, vitamin E, and our Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab perfume blend. WOW. This stuff is PUNCHY! If you don't want a strongly scented massage oil, this is NOT the stuff for you. This could be a perfume oil all on it's own, and I love that. I typically don't go for peppermint--Spooky, for example, is not quite my cup of tea, and I don't like any of the candy-cane type scents. The spearmint, here, is pretty dominant; the peppermint contributes some astringency, but it's mostly the sweeter, more herbal, more green mint to my nose. The sage, juniper, and lavender all got married to the mint plant. It's a very complex, well-married scent that really sticks to you and holds tight. As it wears down (on my hands and arms) it opens up and gets a bit warmer and creamier, probably from the geranium bourbon and coriander. If you are looking for mint valhalla, this might just be it. For what it's worth, I mixed a bit of this into my conditioner, and my whole bathroom ended up scented, not to mention my hair. It really opened up my sinuses and relaxed me. I think a backup is in order!
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SHADOWS OF WHAT MAY BE The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come conveyed him, as before—though at a different time, he thought: indeed, there seemed no order in these latter visions, save that they were in the Future—into the resorts of business men, but showed him not himself. Indeed, the Spirit 82did not stay for anything, but went straight on, as to the end just now desired, until besought by Scrooge to tarry for a moment. “This court,” said Scrooge, “through which we hurry now, is where my place of occupation is, and has been for a length of time. I see the house. Let me behold what I shall be, in days to come!” The Spirit stopped; the hand was pointed elsewhere. “The house is yonder,” Scrooge exclaimed. “Why do you point away?” The inexorable finger underwent no change. Scrooge hastened to the window of his office, and looked in. It was an office still, but not his. The furniture was not the same, and the figure in the chair was not himself. The Phantom pointed as before. He joined it once again, and wondering why and whither he had gone, accompanied it until they reached an iron gate. He paused to look round before entering. A churchyard. Here, then; the wretched man whose name he had now to learn, lay underneath the ground. It was a worthy place. Walled in by houses; overrun by grass and weeds, the growth of vegetation’s death, not life; choked up with too much burying; fat with repleted appetite. A worthy place! The Spirit stood among the graves, and pointed down to One. He advanced towards it trembling. The Phantom was exactly as it had been, but he dreaded that he saw new meaning in its solemn shape. “Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point,” said Scrooge, “answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that Will be, or are they shadows of things that May be, only?” Still the Ghost pointed downward to the grave by which it stood. “Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead,” said Scrooge. “But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me!” The Spirit was immovable as ever. Scrooge crept towards it, trembling as he went; and following the finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name, Ebenezer Scrooge. A deserted, dismal grave: upturned earth, overgrown grass, and dead weeds. In bottle: They aren’t kidding. Rich, damp loam with a mix of grass and weeds. It’s exactly as promised strong, sharp, viscous. I love this. Wet: The weeds get more interesting and complex, while the loam comes fully into it’s own. If you like dirt note scents, this would be a must have. There is a hint of something smokey in the greenery that emerges as it warms. Dry: Dirst and dried greenery. Mmmmm…. Nice.
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MR. FEZZIWIG'S BALL "Yo ho, my boys!" said Fezziwig. "No more work to-night. Christmas Eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up," cried old Fezziwig, with a sharp clap of his hands, "before a man can say Jack Robinson!" You wouldn't believe how those two fellows went at it! They charged into the street with the shutters-one, two, three-had 'em up in their places-four, five, six-barred 'em and pinned 'em-seven, eight, nine-and came back before you could have got to twelve, panting like race-horses. "Hilli-ho!" cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from the high desk, with wonderful agility. "Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room here! Hilli-ho, Dick! Chirrup, Ebenezer!" Clear away! There was nothing they wouldn't have cleared away, or couldn't have cleared away, with old Fezziwig looking on. It was done in a minute. Every movable was packed off, as if it were dismissed from public life for evermore; the floor was swept and watered, the lamps were trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire; and the warehouse was as snug, and warm, and dry, and bright a ball-room, as you would desire to see upon a winter's night. In came a fiddler with a music-book, and went up to the lofty desk, and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fifty stomach-aches. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young men and women employed in the business. In came the housemaid, with her cousin, the baker. In came the cook, with her brother's particular friend, the milkman. In came the boy from over the way, who was suspected of not having board enough from his master; trying to hide himself behind the girl from next door but one, who was proved to have had her ears pulled by her mistress. In they all came, one after another; some shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, some awkwardly, some pushing, some pulling; in they all came, anyhow and everyhow. Away they all went, twenty couple at once; hands half round and back again the other way; down the middle and up again; round and round in various stages of affectionate grouping; old top couple always turning up in the wrong place; new top couple starting off again, as soon as they got there; all top couples at last, and not a bottom one to help them! When this result was brought about, old Fezziwig, clapping his hands to stop the dance, cried out, "Well done!" and the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of porter, especially provided for that purpose. But scorning rest, upon his reappearance, he instantly began again, though there were no dancers yet, as if the other fiddler had been carried home, exhausted, on a shutter, and he were a bran-new man resolved to beat him out of sight, or perish. There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and more dances, and there was cake, and there was negus, and there was a great piece of Cold Roast, and there was a great piece of Cold Boiled, and there were mince-pies, and plenty of beer. But the great effect of the evening came after the Roast and Boiled, when the fiddler (an artful dog, mind! The sort of man who knew his business better than you or I could have told it him!) struck up "Sir Roger de Coverley." Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top couple, too; with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them; three or four and twenty pair of partners; people who were not to be trifled with; people who would dance, and had no notion of walking. But if they had been twice as many-ah, four times-old Fezziwig would have been a match for them, and so would Mrs. Fezziwig. As to her, she was worthy to be his partner in every sense of the term. If that's not high praise, tell me higher, and I'll use it. A positive light appeared to issue from Fezziwig's calves. They shone in every part of the dance like moons. You couldn't have predicted, at any given time, what would have become of them next. And when old Fezziwig and Mrs. Fezziwig had gone all through the dance; advance and retire, both hands to your partner, bow and curtsey, corkscrew, thread-the-needle, and back again to your place; Fezziwig "cut"-cut so deftly, that he appeared to wink with his legs, and came upon his feet again without a stagger. Mince pie, dark beer, a well-loved spruce wood fiddle, and bow resin. This is really an awesome holiday scent that's festive but far from typical. It's actually not a strongly woody and sweeter than I initially expected. THe woo di there, but it plays well with the other elements, and at the forefront is this lovely sweet sticky resinous scent that isn't exactly foody per se but still deliciously addictive. The wood is a piney scent which gives it a seasonal feel but again while it fits the spirit of the season perfectly it's far from the stereotypical "holiday candle" scent, and I adore it. I have the perfume oil coming to me from a swap and now I'm even more excited!
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CRANBERRY COOKIE BARK BATH OIL Shortbread, white and dark chocolate, dried cranberries, and a smattering of crushed candy cane. Shea oil, olive oil, apricot kernel oil, fractionated coconut oil, rosehip seed, evening primrose oil, vitamin E, isopropyl myristate, glycereth-7-cocoate (derived from coconut), oleth 3, and Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab perfume blends. Origin: Bottle from the Trading Post. Preconceived notions: This sounds incredible, even for a very selective foody scent wearer like me. I love the smell of shortbread (I've kind of been hoping that BPAL would do a shortbread scent for quite a while) and white chocolate. I'm learning that the Lab's dark chocolate note smells really, really good on me lately, too. I love to eat dried cranberries and if the cranberry in this smells true to life, then that would be awesome. Candy cane is the only iffy thing here. I'm not a huge mint fan and I'm really no a fan of the Lab's candy cane scents (the Lick It series). But I think it could work well in combination with the other notes. First sniff: Right out of the bottle, this is all shortbread and chocolate to my nose. It's mainly buttery, crunchy, rich shortbread but with an overlay of rich chocolate (I smell dark more than white, but dark chocolate does tend to have a stronger note to my nose). This smells wonderful. It's foody but not cloying in the slightest. In fact, it's not that sweet. It's rich for sure, but not sugary, really. On the skin: I use the bath oils as moisturizers rather than in the bath (I'm a shower girl, plus it feels like a waste of delicious scented oil to me to mix it with water and let it go down the drain, so I can't comment on how this behaves or smells in the bath, sorry!). First of all, this feels nice on my skin. It's not sticky or greasy. It sinks in really well (and I don't have super dry skin) and it has a really nice, strong but close to the skin smell. The scent on me is almost identical to the bottle. Dark chocolate and buttery shortbread with just a touch of white chocolate. I don't really smell cranberry here, but I think it's just blending with the chocolate and shortbread and making it darker and deeper without standing out and screaming "Look at me, I'm fruit!" The candy cane really doesn't make an appearance at any point for me (which I'm fine with and even happy about). The bottom line: This smells so good. If this were a perfume oil, I'd buy it in a heartbeat. I'll definitely get plenty of use of my bottle of bath oil, though, since it makes a nice, light moisturizer and smells incredibly good. I think I might need another bottle of this since I'm not sure how long it'll last with regular use (I'm new to the bath oils and only have one other, Tricksy) and I don't want to risk it not making a reappearance next Christmas.
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POLAR BEAR PLUNGE BATH OIL Dive into an invigorating icy vanilla mint bath! Shea oil, olive oil, apricot kernel oil, fractionated coconut oil, rosehip seed, evening primrose oil, vitamin E, isopropyl myristate, glycereth-7-cocoate (derived from coconut), oleth 3, and Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab perfume blends. Do note that I don't use this as a bath oil, but as an after-shower "lotion". The first sniff as I pop the cap is very vanilla minty, more minty than vanilla though. It's a nice thick oil in texture, and does not run as quickly as some of the other bath oils. On the other hand, it does take a little bit more rubbing in to get it to sink it. As with all Post bath oils, it leaves my skin smoother and softer, and does not act in a sticky fashion. On my skin, it's more minty in scent than vanilla, but it's still very nice! It's refreshing, and I will get a lot of use of this in the warmer weather.
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KLARA Honey dusting powder, mandarin, iris, ylang ylang, tea rose, and carnation. I ordered a bottle of this one unsniffed, as I am a huge fan of sweet florals named after ladies such as: Katrina van Tassel, Zarita, the Doll Girl, Hope and Faith, and of course Alice, who is the queen of this group. I must say that Klara absolutely reminds me of Alice. Both have a beautiful underlying base of rose and carnation, with hints of honey. I think Klara is sweeter, and Alice smells woodier to my nose (from my 2005 bottle), but they are extremely close in scent. All lovers of Alice should try out Klara!
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CHRISTMAS EVE ON THE MOOR And now, without a word of warning from the Ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert moor, where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about, as though it were the burial-place of giants; and water spread itself wheresoever it listed, or would have done so, but for the frost that held it prisoner; and nothing grew but moss and furze, and coarse rank grass. Down in the west the setting sun had left a streak of fiery red, which glared upon the desolation for an instant, like a sullen eye, and frowning lower, lower, lower yet, was lost in the thick gloom of darkest night. “What place is this?” asked Scrooge. “A place where Miners live, who labour in the bowels of the earth,” returned the Spirit. “But they know me. See!” A light shone from the window of a hut, and swiftly they advanced towards it. Passing through the wall of mud and stone, they found a cheerful company assembled round a glowing fire. An old, old man and woman, with their children and their children’s children, and another generation beyond that, all decked out gaily in their holiday attire. The old man, in a voice that seldom rose above the howling of the wind upon the barren waste, was singing them a Christmas song—it had been a very old song when he was a boy—and from time to time they all joined in the chorus. So surely as they raised their voices, the old man got quite blithe and loud; and so surely as they stopped, his vigour sank again. Windswept moor grass, grey moss, mud, and stone warmed by a small, comfortable fire. This was a total risk for me based on the notes, but I got it because I love anything based on the Moors, since to me it's evocative of Wuthering Heights, my favorite novel. This starts out almost exactly how I imagined it would, and I don't think that's ever happened to me before! I get grass, ivy, sweet ozone, and some damp stone. As it dries I sadly start to amp the ozone, and as per usual, it turns into slightly sharp men's cologne, I also get something like lemony citrus. I don't get the warm fire, any smokiness or mud (but I'm not sure how mud smells like, to be honest), which I'm happy about. Though I really wish it would have stayed as it smelled in the beginning, I kind of like it (but I know I won't be able to wear it days were I'm headachy because it's a little too strong). More so than Scrooge, this makes me think of how Heathcliff would smell if he were running through the Moors looking for Catherine (yes, I'm a dork ). I find it masculine.
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THE CHAINED PHANTOMS The air was filled with phantoms, wandering hither and thither in restless haste, and moaning as they went. Every one of them wore chains like Marley’s Ghost; some few (they might be guilty governments) were linked together; none were free. Many had been personally known to Scrooge in their lives. He had been quite familiar with one old ghost, in a white waistcoat, with a monstrous iron safe attached to its ankle, who cried piteously at being unable to assist a wretched woman with an infant, whom it saw below, upon a doorstep. The misery with them all was, clearly, that they sought to interfere, for good, in human matters, and had lost the power for ever. Purgatorial wretchedness and despair: ice-limned white wine grape, balsam of peru, and chamomile. When wet, this is somewhat similar to Shivering Boy, but not cold (not minty at all, not to my nose) and more sweet. Dried down, it goes a bit less sweet and more... perfumey, if that makes sense. I was hoping for the smell of a wild grape arbor, and this is.... well, it's close, but I'm not sure if it's close enough. I'll probably need another try of this in the spring, when I think more of that grape arbor.
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CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE COUNTING HOUSE It was cold, bleak, biting weather: foggy withal: and he could hear the people in the court outside, go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already—it had not been light all day—and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighbouring offices, like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole, and was so dense without, that although the court was of the narrowest, the houses opposite were mere phantoms. To see the dingy cloud come drooping down, obscuring everything, one might have thought that Nature lived hard by, and was brewing on a large scale. Creaky wood, thick fog, and dying embers. This is so different from what I was expecting! In the bottle and on my skin, it is mostly slightly sweet aquatic-ozone. I think I was expecting the fog note to be slightly smoky and not as sweet, but I really don't get any fogginess from this at all. I also don't get any dying embers or smokiness on my skin. I do get some wood underneath it, but it's not prominent. I've been wearing it for a couple of hours now and it hasn't changed. I pulled this out of the mailbox last night, so I might let it settle for a week or so and then try it again.
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This is lovely and simple, fern and a light minty-slush scent. The only scent with fern I've tried before is Pontarlier and this is similar, but less potent. This is a lovely scent and softer than most of the evergreen-snow Yule scents.
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If this had been sold on its own, I probably wouldn't have purchased it because although I like drinking ale, its not something I'd want to smell like. This, however, smells like fizzy berry (raspberry perhaps?) soda! The fizziness reminds me both of Geek Goth and Polynesian Pop. There might be a drop of mint in here too. This is really good, a pleasant surprise for me.
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THE RAT KING The Nine-Headed nemesis of the Nutcracker Prince. Dust, wood and feral musk with a fang-sharp undertone. In the bottle: Definitely a sharp, woodsy aroma... kind of a hint of pine, I'm getting, and this smells very earthy, almost like my Aveda Brilliant humectant pomade, so it has a definite hair-salon upscale styling goop hint to it. It does have a somewhat chemical tang to it. On my skin: The initial 'Aveda' aroma fades somewhat and this obtains a very light, somewhat birch-like barkiness, and on top of that is a very, very animal-like musk. Kind of like the scent of a small animal like a rabbit or guinea pig, that light aroma that reminds you that this is something alive, and not just a fuzzy toy... I'm not sure it really works out on me at this point, as it's still a bit chaotic and unsettling. There's definitely a dusty powderiness to the blend, and it brings to mind a craftshop with little rats scurrying around... After a bit of time to dry and mature: This is like the woodsy elements of Geek, without the sharp leather and with much less smoke. I get that very delicious hit of light forest that I adore in that oil, but the feral musk has a definite civet-like swagger that doesn't work out on my skin. However, that said, this is definitely a unique aroma which brings to mind a malevolent rat in all of his feral glory! This may be a swapper in the future.
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THE WALTZ OF THE FLOWERS White musk, Madonna lily, jasmine sambac, ylang ylang, bourbon vanilla, and clove. This is a pretty scent that is for the floral lovers. It starts off ylang-ylang, then a well-behaved jasmine, then lily, all sitting on a very light base of vanilla. The vanilla comes out a bit stronger as it dries, with a touch of clove, and soft musk. This is quite pretty so far, very graceful and sophisticated. It starts off a very potent floral but the drydown is so soft and pretty!
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THE CHINESE DANCE Green and black tea, King mandarin, violet, blackcurrant, and wormwood. First impressions: citrus, clean, green, fresh, sparkly, gender-neutral. No particular note dominates. The teas are definitely present but they balance each other out, so the black tea isn't too astringent and the green tea isn't too powdery. In some ways this smells light and summery, but there's also a deeper scent underneath that's herbal and earthy. Wet on skin: there's more sweetness from the mandarin and violet now, and at the same time the sharpness of the tea comes forward. I still have a strong "fresh, sparkly" impression. Dry on skin: I love that the slight bit of fruitiness is still lingering. I think that may be the wormwood as well as or instead of the king mandarin. It's both citrusy and green, in the way litsea cubeba is. The green tea is soft. There's a slightly bitter earthiness that blends in with everything else in a way I like. It lingers as an earthy tea for a long time. Some of the complexity fades, but not the refreshing quality.
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AN ALTAR TO COLD, RIGID, DREADFUL DEATH He recoiled in terror, for the scene had changed, and now he almost touched a bed: a bare, uncurtained bed: on which, beneath a ragged sheet, there lay a something covered up, which, though it was dumb, announced itself in awful language. The room was very dark, too dark to be observed with any accuracy, though Scrooge glanced round it in obedience to a secret impulse, anxious to know what kind of room it was. A pale light, rising in the outer air, fell straight upon the bed; and on it, plundered and bereft, unwatched, unwept, uncared for, was the body of this man. Scrooge glanced towards the Phantom. Its steady hand was pointed to the head. The cover was so carelessly adjusted that the slightest raising of it, the motion of a finger upon Scrooge’s part, would have disclosed the face. He thought of it, felt how easy it would be to do, and longed to do it; but had no more power to withdraw the veil than to dismiss the spectre at his side. Oh cold, cold, rigid, dreadful Death, set up thine altar here, and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thy command: for this is thy dominion! But of the loved, revered, and honoured head, thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes, or make one feature odious. It is not that the hand is heavy and will fall down when released; it is not that the heart and pulse are still; but that the hand was open, generous, and true; the heart brave, warm, and tender; and the pulse a man’s. Strike, Shadow, strike! And see his good deeds springing from the wound, to sow the world with life immortal! No voice pronounced these words in Scrooge’s ears, and yet he heard them when he looked upon the bed. He thought, if this man could be raised up now, what would be his foremost thoughts? Avarice, hard-dealing, griping cares? They have brought him to a rich end, truly! He lay, in the dark empty house, with not a man, a woman, or a child, to say that he was kind to me in this or that, and for the memory of one kind word I will be kind to him. A cat was tearing at the door, and there was a sound of gnawing rats beneath the hearth-stone. What they wanted in the room of death, and why they were so restless and disturbed, Scrooge did not dare to think. Black cedar, frankincense, and dust. I've tried two blends that reminded me of Cathedral today, but after smelling An Altar to Cold, Rigid, Dreadful Death, I had to do a side by side test. These two are incredibly alike. The main notes I get from Cathedral are the cedar and frankincense, which are the same two notes I get from this. However, this is better. There is a little bit of spiciness to this blend that you don't find in Cathedral. I'm not sure if it's the dust note, or something different about the cedar note, but this blend is exactly Cathedral with an extra kick of awesome and I absolutely LOVE IT. I have a full bottle of Cathedral on the way to share with my boyfriend, but I really do wish I'd gotten a full bottle of this instead now that I've smelled it. I don't know if I can justify having both because of my sucky financial situation right now, but I just might have to order this anyway. It is so good, I really can't say enough how much I love it.
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THE CLOCK STRIKES MIDNIGHT The moment of passage between the waking world and the swirling mist of dreams: black currant, frankincense, blue musk, mugwort, and wisteria. I didn't have high expectations for this scent. When my decants got here and I sniffed the imp I was surprised how much I liked it. In the imp it's very pretty in that musky-dusky floral kid of way. I smell quite a bit of frankincense and musk and a maybe spiced floral. I like this more than I anticipated. On my skin – this is sweet and resinous smelling. Something is reminding me of expensive hand soap. After dry down, this is soapy enough that is is outside of my range of preference but it is compelling and very pretty.
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