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Showing results for tags 'Yule 2011'.
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“You are in the wrong,” replied the fiend; “and instead of threatening, I am content to reason with you. I am malicious because I am miserable. Am I not shunned and hated by all mankind? You, my creator, would tear me to pieces and triumph; remember that, and tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me? You would not call it murder if you could precipitate me into one of those ice-rifts and destroy my frame, the work of your own hands. Shall I respect man when he condemns me? Let him live with me in the interchange of kindness, and instead of injury I would bestow every benefit upon him with tears of gratitude at his acceptance. But that cannot be; the human senses are insurmountable barriers to our union. Yet mine shall not be the submission of abject slavery. I will revenge my injuries; if I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear, and chiefly towards you my archenemy, because my creator, do I swear inextinguishable hatred. Have a care; I will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, so that you shall curse the hour of your birth.” Inextinguishable hatred: red ginger and black opoponax with black pepper, stinging neroli, myrrh, and tobacco absolute. Very sharp in bottle and right after application on skin. The ginger settles down a bit after a few minutes and sweetens just slightly with the myrrh and tobacco notes. I'm not sure what I was expecting with this scent, but it smells quite unique on my skin.
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These thoughts supported my spirits, while I pursued my undertaking with unremitting ardour. My cheek had grown pale with study, and my person had become emaciated with confinement. Sometimes, on the very brink of certainty, I failed; yet still I clung to the hope which the next day or the next hour might realise. One secret which I alone possessed was the hope to which I had dedicated myself; and the moon gazed on my midnight labours, while, with unrelaxed and breathless eagerness, I pursued nature to her hiding-places. Who shall conceive the horrors of my secret toil, as I dabbled among the unhallowed damps of the grave, or tortured the living animal to animate the lifeless clay? My limbs now tremble and my eyes swim with the remembrance; but then a resistless, and almost frantic, impulse urged me forward; I seemed to have lost all soul or sensation but for this one pursuit. It was indeed but a passing trance that only made me feel with renewed acuteness so soon as, the unnatural stimulus ceasing to operate, I had returned to my old habits. The moon gazed on my midnight labours: Moroccan musk, black opium poppy, clove, and orris root. First to review this. So here goes nothing! Wet: Soft but strong musk, which smells almost clean to me. (I guess that's what Morrocan musk smells like) with dry hints of orris. Dry: Musk, barely there clove (which I hope will get stronger with age) and orris root. This scent evokes a dark image for me. It is a scent for those who do bad things in the night, even if they think they are doing those things for the right reason. It's rare for a scent to evoke such an image from me. But this one does. It's purely clean, soft, and there is no poppy here and barely any clove. I see this being a frequently reached for bottle b/c I love the concept and the scent. However, I can see why it was hard on Beth to create scents attributed to the Frankenstein story.
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Who shall conceive the horrors of my secret toil as I dabbled among the unhallowed damps of the grave or tortured the living animal to animate the lifeless clay? The horrors of my secret toil: vetiver and rose. (I tried this right out of the mailbox so I'm not sure if it will smell different in a few days, but it's been cold so I think it's okay.) I was torn on getting a bottle of this because I was afraid the vetiver would be too strong for me, but I am really pleasantly surprised. I have to admit that I can't tell the difference between the different kinds of roses, but to me this smells like a lush, wet rose. I don't find it sharp or bitter; in the drydown it actually gets sweeter on me. There's not too much vetiver at all. In fact, I hardly detect any. I feel like the vetiver comes through more in the drydown but it's still very subtle, just darkening the whole thing by a few shades. It's primarily a rose scent to me. I like it!
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DIABLE EN BOÎTE The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd The chastity he wounded. Cytherea, How bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh lily, And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch! But kiss; one kiss! Rubies unparagon'd, How dearly they do't! 'Tis her breathing that Perfumes the chamber thus: the flame o' the taper Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids, To see the enclosed lights, now canopied Under these windows, white and azure laced With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my design, To note the chamber: I will write all down: Such and such pictures; there the window; such The adornment of her bed; the arras; figures, Why, such and such; and the contents o' the story. Ah, but some natural notes about her body, Above ten thousand meaner moveables Would testify, to enrich mine inventory. O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her! And be her sense but as a monument, Thus in a chapel lying! Come off, come off: As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard! 'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly, As strongly as the conscience does within, To the madding of her lord. On her left breast A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops I' the bottom of a cowslip: here's a voucher, Stronger than ever law could make: this secret Will force him think I have pick'd the lock and ta'en The treasure of her honour. No more. To what end? Why should I write this down, that's riveted, Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading late The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down Where Philomel gave up. I have enough: To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it. Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning May bare the raven's eye! I lodge in fear; Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here. One, two, three: time, time! - Iachimo, Cymbeline Act II, Scene 2 There are few things more disturbing than a Jack in the Box. A strangely sinister, unnerving holiday scent: redwood, bitter clove, tonka, hemp accord, and tobacco with peach blossom, black currant, and red musk. Oh no! I'm first on another Yule. In the bottle, it's very astringently medicinal. I was snorting so I could pick up what it reminded me of and it sort of burns at the back of the throat. Again, not what I was expecting when I ordered and not something I'd necessarily want to wear. But like with Yule Cat, I went ahead and put some on. Wet on skin: It's the red musk from Mircalla, but much smokier. Smoky is really the main thing I remember about first application. Drying: The smoky has wafted away and a dry wood is mostly prominent now. I really wish I knew what individual notes smell like instead of giving just general impressions. I don't know if this is the redwood or what. A sweetishness is still lurking, but it has a distinct woodiness. Specifically a dried out wood, not freshly chopped green wood. This stage gives me the impression it's just a tad on the masculine side. Much later this evening: All has settled down and Diable is just lovely. There's a soft sweetness to the deeper, rich tones of the scent that make it very wearable. I'm sure that has to be the peach blossom. Masculinity has went away and it's leaning more on the girly side now. Overall: I'm very happy that Diable hopped into my cart unsniffed. I've enjoyed all stages of this morpher and I don't plan on him just sitting around unworn. Added after I was thinking about it... I have a feeling that Diable will be supremely lovely with a bit of age.
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As I spoke, rage sparkled in my eyes; the magistrate was intimidated. “You are mistaken,” said he. “I will exert myself, and if it is in my power to seize the monster, be assured that he shall suffer punishment proportionate to his crimes. But I fear, from what you have yourself described to be his properties, that this will prove impracticable; and thus, while every proper measure is pursued, you should make up your mind to disappointment.” “That cannot be; but all that I can say will be of little avail. My revenge is of no moment to you; yet, while I allow it to be a vice, I confess that it is the devouring and only passion of my soul. My rage is unspeakable when I reflect that the murderer, whom I have turned loose upon society, still exists. You refuse my just demand; I have but one resource, and I devote myself, either in my life or death, to his destruction.” I trembled with excess of agitation as I said this; there was a frenzy in my manner, and something, I doubt not, of that haughty fierceness which the martyrs of old are said to have possessed. But to a Genevan magistrate, whose mind was occupied by far other ideas than those of devotion and heroism, this elevation of mind had much the appearance of madness. He endeavoured to soothe me as a nurse does a child and reverted to my tale as the effects of delirium. “Man,” I cried, “how ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom! Cease; you know not what it is you say.” The pride of wisdom: Roman chamomile, rosehips, ginseng, and fig. In the bottle: Bright, fresh, lightly herbal rose. On skin: pretty much the same, stays true on drydown. But pretty much stays mostly rose with the chamomile and ginseng adding a fresh herbal quality. I don't get any fig from this. Rosehips (the fruit of beach roses) are one of my favorite scents in nature. I was hoping for a bit more of that and not just "rose" from this blend. I'm thinking this might work better for me layered with something beachy, like R'Lyeh.
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I collected bones from charnel-houses and disturbed, with profane fingers, the tremendous secrets of the human frame. In a solitary chamber, or rather cell, at the top of the house, and separated from all the other apartments by a gallery and staircase, I kept my workshop of filthy creation; my eyeballs were starting from their sockets in attending to the details of my employment. The dissecting room and the slaughter-house furnished many of my materials; and often did my human nature turn with loathing from my occupation, whilst, still urged on by an eagerness which perpetually increased, I brought my work near to a conclusion. The workshop of filthy creation: electricity-scarred cypress beams, ancient stone slabs, damp metal, the coppery tang of coagulating blood, and ozone. First review! I think most people were too hesitant to touch this. The first thing that comes out is the cypress. It's not too harsh and it almost smells like tobacco. I'm pretty sure there's some myrrh involved somewhere. Overall there's a sleight rootbeerish smell. Ozone is very iffy for me since scents like Lightning often turn into pure soap. Metallic scents can become sharp, manly aquatic cologne. The damp metal note here is surprisingly pretty, though. It's a clean, true unisex scent that would work very well on a guy. I'm actually getting a sense of charged electricity from this one. Very pleasant, not sure I'm in love with it but it was unusual and surprising. I hesitate to compare it to Ekhidna, since Ekhidna's spicy and murky and has an almost sour note but I can't think of any scent that comes closer to this. Clean, unisex rootbeer with an electrical charge. No contents of the slaughterhouses, thankfully. Edit: With aging, the rootbeer smell mostly disappears to be replaced by cypress and metal. Still a good smell, though.
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NOCHE BUENA A celebration of the Nativity: the light, uplifting incense of the Misa de Noche Buena, purple sage, and a vibrant bouquet of plumeria, chrysanthemum, tuberose, Angel's Trumpet, Mexican tiger lily, dahlia, and azucenas. straight sniff from bottle is an olfactory delight of plumeria and chrysanthemum.... once applied this is a deep, floral incense ... jeebus.... beth just gets better and better with these 2007 yule blends... the sage and florals swirl together and are nothing less than astonishing...the throw is fair so i will have to slather this puppy for certain...g-o-r-g-e-o-u-s
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Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. “Rischt!” how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. Three radiant ambers with honey, linden blossom, bourbon vanilla, and orange zest. In the bottle: creamy, sweet orange, possibly some floral (the linden blossoms?) Wet on skin: So this is definitely orange ZEST- I'm getting creamy orange for sure but there's also really bitter note like citrus pith- it's the difference between taking a bite of plain juicy orange and accidentally biting off some of the peel too. It actually reminds me of Halls vitamin C drops- they're sweet and citrusy but then there's almost a medicinal quality, like mint or eucalyptus. It's kind of off-putting. Dry: Much nicer- everything seems to have settled down and now this is a warm, sweet well-blended scent. I can't really pick out the individual notes, but the bitter note has disappeared. I'm going to hang on to it for awhile and see what (if anything) happens with the overly zesty zest and if I like the drydown enough to reach for it.
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The Ski Lady, jötunn goddess of winter, bowhunting, mountains, and skiing. The scent of winter wind blowing over snow-capped mountains. Oh, hellooooooooooo Öndurdis. This smells like Christmas: pine, cold, a bit of something like winter berries. Look, I knew I had to had to have Ondurdis because I was hoping it would smell like Skadi, who I've been missing like crazy. I'm sure opinion will be divided on this, but Öndurdis smells a lot like Skadi to my nose, only a bit sharper. The pine is predominant, with a bit of a biting, cold scent behind it, and a hint of sweetness behind it all. It doesn't really become any more complex on my skin, or even change much in the drydown, just settling into the skin more (which, incidentally, is exactly how Skadi behaved on me too--and, really, how any super-piney scent seems to behave on me), but that's fine with me--this isn't really an every day scent for me, anyway, more a perfume for when I want to smell like Christmas, especially when it's cold outside, and I am very happily indoors.
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Rooibos tea with red ginger, green cardamom, fennel, peppercorns, almond, and licorice, sweetened with coconut sugar and jaggery. This was the Yule scent I was most excited about- it seemed kind of random and different, and I was not disappointed. In the bottle: Warm, rich spice. I do smell some pumpkin, and the red fruitiness that I associate with rooibos tea. Wet on skin: Sparkly red ginger and cardamom (?), with a kick from the peppercorns and a subtle sweetness. I can still smell the rooibos in the background. Drydown: Still getting a lot of the spice from the wet stage. As it dries down further there's more sugar, similar to Sugar Skull but with a tinge of creamy coconut (and jaggery is a kind of unrefined cane sugar, so I'm guessing it's just further sweetening the mix). This is really nice- I like spice but I'm not really a fan of cinnamon or cassia in perfume, so this is perfect. It's vaguely foody without being bakeshop foody, in my opinion. I didn't get any of the fennel, licorice or almond, and the coconut was a supporting player at most, giving a little bit of a creamy background to the whole thing. Lots of throw (but I like to slather) and okay wear length- still getting whiffs 3-4 hours in. All in all, a really interesting take on the spicy holiday gingerbready scent. I'll definitely keep my bottle around and may even snag a backup as I anticipate wearing this a lot.
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WOODS IN WINTER When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, With solemn feet I tread the hill, That overbrows the lonely vale. O'er the bare upland, and away Through the long reach of desert woods, The embracing sunbeams chastely play, And gladden these deep solitudes. Where, twisted round the barren oak, The summer vine in beauty clung, And summer winds the stillness broke, The crystal icicle is hung. Where, from their frozen urns, mute springs Pour out the river's gradual tide, Shrilly the skater's iron rings, And voices fill the woodland side. Alas! how changed from the fair scene, When birds sang out their mellow lay, And winds were soft, and woods were green, And the song ceased not with the day! But still wild music is abroad, Pale, desert woods! within your crowd; And gathering winds, in hoarse accord, Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud. Chill airs and wintry winds! my ear Has grown familiar with your song; I hear it in the opening year, I listen, and it cheers me long. Wild hemlock and juniper berries scattered in the snow beneath leafless trees bedecked with glittering icicles. In the bottle: It seems very aquatic and linen-y. And because of that perception, when I first accidentally got a teeny bit on my hand, that, too, smelled uber-aquatic. I was worried it might give me a headache! But I pressed on!! On skin: It starts off smelling a touch like pine or rosemary, but I guess that is the juniper or maybe the hemlock… It is very atmospheric - very light. It has a bit of sweetness (but it is not a sweet fragrance overall), a touch of spice and… perhaps a teensy bit of vanilla? It’s quite comforting. And strangely warm, even though it’s supposed to evoke, well, Woods in Winter! Maybe that tiny bit of sweetness is like marshmallows - light, fluffy, sweet, soft... That must be the snow on the ground Side note: When I first put it on, I was surprised that it really evoked some strange emotional feeling - brought tears to my eyes. (I’ll have to figure that out! ) I wore it overnight, and when I sniffed my wrists in the morning it was nearly gone, with just a hint remaining. It was back to smelling a bit aquatic. I think I’ll have to try again (and maybe add to this review later). Bottom line: It’s lovely. For me, it’s almost ethereal, and I find it appropriate that it’s based on a poem, because it has a poetic feel to it, if that makes any sense. I’m fairly certain I’ll be keeping my bottle (Edited to add in a piece I had forgotten before - sorry!)
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Sharp is the night, but stars with frost alive Leap off the rim of earth across the dome. It is a night to make the heavens our home More than the nest whereto apace we strive. Lengths down our road each fir-tree seems a hive, In swarms outrushing from the golden comb. They waken waves of thoughts that burst to foam: The living throb in me, the dead revive. Yon mantle clothes us: there, past mortal breath, Life glistens on the river of the death. It folds us, flesh and dust; and have we knelt, Or never knelt, or eyed as kine the springs Of radiance, the radiance enrings: And this is the soul’s haven to have felt. - George Meredith Black midnight winter skies glittering with points of light: chill air, champaca flower, white musk, fir needle, papyrus reeds, and grey amber. I find Winter Heavens really evocative and atmospheric, I was surprised at how it really captures the winter night. Most of the notes are well-blended and they create this dark fruity scent with soft sparkly musk and hints of chilly air and pine trees. After a while the champaca and chilly air peeks a little more. The entire scent is softer and fruitier than I was expecting and it falls a little flat on my skin but I could see this working well on someone with the right skin chemistry.
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The Frost performs its secret ministry, Unhelped by any wind. The owlet’s cry Came loud—and hark, again! loud as before. The inmates of my cottage, all at rest, Have left me to that solitude, which suits Abstruser musings: save that at my side My cradled infant slumbers peacefully. ‘Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs And vexes meditation with its strange And extreme silentness. Sea, hill, and wood, This populous village! Sea, and hill, and wood, With all the numberless goings-on of life, Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not; Only that film, which fluttered on the grate, Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature Gives it dim sympathies with me who live, Making it a companionable form, Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit By its own moods interprets, every where Echo or mirror seeking of itself, And makes a toy of Thought. But O! how oft, How oft, at school, with most believing mind, Presageful, have I gazed upon the bars, To watch that fluttering stranger! and as oft With unclosed lids, already had I dreamt Of my sweet birth-place, and the old church-tower, Whose bells, the poor man’s only music, rang From morn to evening, all the hot Fair-day, So sweetly, that they stirred and haunted me With a wild pleasure, falling on mine ear Most like articulate sounds of things to come! So gazed I, till the soothing things, I dreamt, Lulled me to sleep, and sleep prolonged my dreams! And so I brooded all the following morn, Awed by the stern preceptor’s face, mine eye Fixed with mock study on my swimming book: Save if the door half opened, and I snatched A hasty glance, and still my heart leaped up, For still I hoped to see the stranger’s face, Townsman, or aunt, or sister more beloved, My play-mate when we both were clothed alike! Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side, Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm, Fill up the intersperséd vacancies And momentary pauses of the thought! My babe so beautiful! it thrills my heart With tender gladness, thus to look at thee, And think that thou shalt learn far other lore, And in far other scenes! For I was reared In the great city, pent ‘mid cloisters dim, And saw nought lovely but the sky and stars. But thou, my babe! shalt wander like a breeze By lakes and sandy shores, beneath the crags Of ancient mountain, and beneath the clouds, Which image in their bulk both lakes and shores And mountain crags: so shalt thou see and hear The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible Of that eternal language, which thy God Utters, who from eternity doth teach Himself in all, and all things in himself. Great universal Teacher! he shall mould Thy spirit, and by giving make it ask. Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, Whether the summer clothe the general earth With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch Smokes in the sun-thaw; whether the eave-drops fall Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles, Quietly shining to the quiet Moon. - Samuel Taylor Coleridge The liberating glory of nature, a celebration of wildness of spirit: fierce musk and immortelle, clary sage and oud, terebinth pine and ambrette seed, ivy and tobacco, honeysuckle and orange blossom. Frost at Midnight begins with a flurry of notes. It's fresh smelling, which may be the sage and pine, or the ivy. I can't identify the immortelle or other notes. I don't detect any tobacco. But there's definitely a lot going on at once. After it dries for a few minutes the honeysuckle and orange blossom show up but aren't heavy or overwhelming. Frost at Midnight turns into a nice, light floral. I was hoping for more pine and greenery to stick around. I think this will be a really nice Spring scent though I may have to slather it.
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“Grandmother!” cried the little one. “Oh, take me with you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!” And she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety–they were with God. Divine mercy: sweet winter berry, orange blossom, frankincense, golden sandalwood, angel’s trumpet, and red rose. Wow, another first! I'm a bit unsure of this one. The intial wet stage is almost too much for my nose. That's a lot of berries and rose. Mostly berries, but I can for sure smell a sweet, bright rose there. Sometimes the backs of my wrists tend to amp brighter, fruitier notes though, and I have this on the backs of my wrists. When I have a chance I want to test in on the insides of my wrists, and that's where I usually wear my perfume, and I think I will get more of the frankincense and sandalwood to balance the sweet berry-rose. And I just realized there's orange blossom in here too, which is probably adding to that sweet, fruity, floral hit in the early stages. I am able to get a hint of the underlying dandalwood and frankincense now that it has been dry for an hour or two, but it has also faded sonsiderably overall....so. I'm just not sure. I'm gonna give it some time and see how it develops.
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I am already far north of London, and as I walk in the streets of Petersburgh, I feel a cold northern breeze play upon my cheeks, which braces my nerves and fills me with delight. Do you understand this feeling? This breeze, which has travelled from the regions towards which I am advancing, gives me a foretaste of those icy climes. Inspirited by this wind of promise, my daydreams become more fervent and vivid. I try in vain to be persuaded that the pole is the seat of frost and desolation; it ever presents itself to my imagination as the region of beauty and delight. There, Margaret, the sun is forever visible, its broad disk just skirting the horizon and diffusing a perpetual splendour. There — for with your leave, my sister, I will put some trust in preceding navigators — there snow and frost are banished; and, sailing over a calm sea, we may be wafted to a land surpassing in wonders and in beauty every region hitherto discovered on the habitable globe. Its productions and features may be without example, as the phenomena of the heavenly bodies undoubtedly are in those undiscovered solitudes. What may not be expected in a country of eternal light? I may there discover the wondrous power which attracts the needle and may regulate a thousand celestial observations that require only this voyage to render their seeming eccentricities consistent forever. I shall satiate my ardent curiosity with the sight of a part of the world never before visited, and may tread a land never before imprinted by the foot of man. These are my enticements, and they are sufficient to conquer all fear of danger or death and to induce me to commence this laborious voyage with the joy a child feels when he embarks in a little boat, with his holiday mates, on an expedition of discovery up his native river. But supposing all these conjectures to be false, you cannot contest the inestimable benefit which I shall confer on all mankind, to the last generation, by discovering a passage near the pole to those countries, to reach which at present so many months are requisite; or by ascertaining the secret of the magnet, which, if at all possible, can only be effected by an undertaking such as mine. The country of eternal light: icy wind, depth hoar, and frost-limned lichen. I can't say for sure what notes are in this, but I'm guessing there's gotta be some white musk. I thought I would have to wash it off or use it for sinus clearing, but I waited. It morphed completely, and an hour later it was the most pretty scent; softer and a little sweet, which is why I think there's some white musk in it. It kind of reminds me of Snowflakes after it's been on for a while. Definitely smell the lichen.
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Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening– the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast. Snow settling on cold skin, tea rose petals, and dusty, threadbare linen. I mostly get a clean fresh-linen scent from this one, very much like clothes just washed with a soft floral fabric softener, as it dries I start to get a little bit of pine-tinged snow. It settles into just-washed linen scent with hints of snow and pine and surprisingly I'm not getting rose on my skin but it's maybe blended into the linen scent and that's what is making it smell like a soft floral fabric softener to my nose. I like fresh clean laundry type scents so I find this pretty and actually my favorite from the batch I purchased, but I was hoping it would smell like a Pink Snowballs with soft linen but the fresh laundry scent overpowers everything else.
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But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall–frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Esprit de eucalyptus, blue musk, davana, frosty iris, and tagetes. A beautiful soft floral that lasts for hours. Bright florals and powder burst forth when freshly wet, a combination of the iris, tagetes, and blue musk at the fore. The scent barely changes as it dries, remaining neither warm or cold. The only change I detected was a softening and sweetening of the scent. It lasted forever on me, considering it seems like a light floral scent, and my skin absorbs perfume like a sponge. It lasted from about 930 to 4, and that's with me putting my robe on and off, thus rubbing it off my arms. The throw is decent as well, I could smell it wafting about me as I moved. It seemed feminine and clean. Definitely has a powder aspect, so if you're not into that, you may be disappointed. Although, I was expecting eucalyptus and I couldn't detect it, so that could be good or bad depending on who you are. There was almost nothing icy or minty about this scent on me. I can definitely see something bright but cold about this, like seeing the bright dawn on a chilly day. It smells a bit like being out in the cold, but not in the way "winter" scents classically do. The following is going to sound incomprehensible: the way your nose closes a bit when it's chilly and makes everything smell rounder. Over all, I adored this scent. I'm going to see how it smells in a month when it's settled, and hopefully I'll feel the same. 5/5, at the moment, though. Edited to add: Every time I wear this, I fall a little more in love. The first few times I put it on, I couldn't smell much that was eucalyptus-y. Now, it starts with a little chilly minty/eucalyptus kick combined with that beautiful soft floral goodness. Still, mint haters need not be afraid, it's not overpowering.
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Sometimes I allowed my thoughts, unchecked by reason, to ramble in the fields of Paradise, and dared to fancy amiable and lovely creatures sympathizing with my feelings and cheering my gloom; their angelic countenances breathed smiles of consolation. But it was all a dream; no Eve soothed my sorrows nor shared my thoughts; I was alone. I remembered Adam’s supplication to his Creator. But where was mine? He had abandoned me, and in the bitterness of my heart I cursed him. Amiable and lovely creatures: honey and rosewater with fig, patchouli, night-blooming jasmine, and white almond. I wasn't really sure what to expect with this one. I love figgy and almondy scents but jasmine can easily ruin promising scents, so it was kind of a toss up. I'm happy to say that this scent is elegantly blended and that the jasmine behaves itself. I'm getting a mixture of jasmine and light rose (it's not very strong at all) perched on top of creamy fig. It kind of smells like what I imagine an old-fashioned boudoir table would smell like, dribbled with rose water, jasmine perfume, and sweet powder. Off the top of my head, I can't think of a BPAL scent that compares with this, but it has elements of Miller V. California and Honey Mone. It's different but I like it.
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The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued. - Robert Frost Snowflakes and hemlock leaves with snowdrop, iris, and Peruvian lily. This is the familiar BPAL snow note, with a smooth almost eucalyptus like, smooth green to it. The lily is not terribly strong, and there's almost a vanilla sweetness underlying the scent. Drydown turns less minty and more a close, whisper of a scent. Pleasant.
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Of my creation and creator I was absolutely ignorant, but I knew that I possessed no money, no friends, no kind of property. I was, besides, endued with a figure hideously deformed and loathsome; I was not even of the same nature as man. I was more agile than they and could subsist upon coarser diet; I bore the extremes of heat and cold with less injury to my frame; my stature far exceeded theirs. When I looked around I saw and heard of none like me. Was I, then, a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned? A blot upon the earth: black plum, Spanish moss, opoponax, davana, vetiver, and opium poppy. Lots of opium at the forefront, then something herbal, and just a hint of plum in the background. If you thought all the notes sounded great but were scared off by the vetiver, this might be worth trying anyway because I'm not getting any vetiver from this at all. Kind of disappointed there, since I love vetiver. It feels dark, but not thick or heavy. Shadowy, I guess. I almost really like it but the opium is going sharp and chemicalish on me like it always does. I was hoping that it wouldn't be so prominent. I'll hang onto my bottle for now and see what it's like in a few months.
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“If you consent, neither you nor any other human being shall ever see us again: I will go to the vast wilds of South America. My food is not that of man; I do not destroy the lamb and the kid to glut my appetite; acorns and berries afford me sufficient nourishment. My companion will be of the same nature as myself, and will be content with the same fare. We shall make our bed of dried leaves; the sun will shine on us as on man, and will ripen our food. The picture I present to you is peaceful and human, and you must feel that you could deny it only in the wantonness of power and cruelty. Pitiless as you have been towards me, I now see compassion in your eyes; me seize the favourable moment, and persuade you to promise what. I so ardently desire.” A companion of the same nature: skin musk, red rose petals, mums, carnations, white linen, and sunlit amber on a bed of soft dry leaves. This starts off heavy and the mums and leaves with a little rose and skin musk. As it dries, it gets a bit more musky and softer with hints of the carnation, linen, and amber. The drydown is a lovely skin-and-linen combination. Overall, this is nice enough, especially the drydown stage. It reminds me a lot of several past Halloween scents, like La Catrina Calavera and to a lesser extent, The Death of Autumn. I think I'll hang on to my decant to see how it ages but don't feel the need for a bottle as I have lots of autumn leaf scents in my collection already.
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When I found so astonishing a power placed within my hands, I hesitated a long time concerning the manner in which I should employ it. Although I possessed the capacity of bestowing animation, yet to prepare a frame for the reception of it, with all its intricacies of fibres, muscles, and veins, still remained a work of inconceivable difficulty and labour. I doubted at first whether I should attempt the creation of a being like myself, or one of simpler organisation; but my imagination was too much exalted by my first success to permit me to doubt of my ability to give life to an animal as complex and wonderful as man. The materials at present within my command hardly appeared adequate to so arduous an undertaking; but I doubted not that I should ultimately succeed. I prepared myself for a multitude of reverses; my operations might be incessantly baffled, and at last my work be imperfect: yet, when I considered the improvement which every day takes place in science and mechanics, I was encouraged to hope my present attempts would at least lay the foundations of future success. Nor could I consider the magnitude and complexity of my plan as any argument of its impracticability. It was with these feelings that I began the creation of a human being. As the minuteness of the parts formed a great hinderance to my speed, I resolved, contrary to my first intention, to make the being of a gigantic stature; that is to say, about eight feet in height, and proportionably large. After having formed this determination, and having spent some months in successfully collecting and arranging my materials, I began. No one can conceive the variety of feelings which bore me onwards, like a hurricane, in the first enthusiasm of success. Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world. A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs. Pursuing these reflections, I thought, that if I could bestow animation upon lifeless matter, I might in process of time (although I now found it impossible) renew life where death had apparently devoted the body to corruption. A torrent of light: eucalyptus petals, white mint, white amber, and ozone. yay, i'm first! let's hope i can do it justice. i find myself drawn to descriptions that are bright and clean, even though i don't always like the way they smell on me. a torrent of light smells great on me though, and i think it's because the amber tempers the higher pitched notes. bottle: light citrus? and ozone. i think that this might be the difference between eucalyptus petals and straight eucalyptus. it's a lighter non-astringent eucalyptus that makes me think of citrus. really amazing in the bottle. wet: oh yum! i smell clean and light. there's an brightness to it that makes me think of electricity, but the eucalyptus is vague and not harsh like i was worried it might be. it could be unisex at this point, which is usually how ozone comes across to me. dry at 5 min: the amber starts to warm and mellow the brightness of the mint and eucalyptus. i say mint and eucalyptus, but neither of those are really prominent or harsh like they can be. just light, breezy, and a hint of cold. this seems to be more feminine to me but it isn't strongly feminine at all. in fact i would say it is nicely androgynous. dry at 30 min: the amber has really warmed it up and softened it like amber usually does. i love amber in pretty much everything i've ever tried it in and seem to be lucky that it doesn't go powdery on me. the eucalyptus petals add a slight floral edge to it but i'm not really into florals and it definitely doesn't come across as a floral. it's more like the floral adds a touch of complexity to the warmness of the amber and the brightness of the ozone. verdict: i like it a LOT. i'm definitely keeping my bottle and i think it will work well on those days when i need a bright winter scent that isn't foody or sweet. masterful blend! 9/10 for those that were afraid of either the eucalyptus or mint being too strong or astringent, you should try this one anyway. they are very subtle and the amber and ozone are the more prominent notes.
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It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning; the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs. How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his features as beautiful. Beautiful!–Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour as the dun white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips. A dreary night of November: bone-white sandalwood, ink-black vetiver, Spanish moss, bitter clove, beeswax, and lotus root. This is really lovely--wet, it is almost all beeswax with the darkness from the vetiver and a sweetness from the lotus. If you are familiar with Arcana's Holy Terror, it is quite similar without being as incensey and harsh. It is well-balanced and perfectly evocative of a dreary autumn evening!
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The appearance of Justine was calm. She was dressed in mourning, and her countenance, always engaging, was rendered, by the solemnity of her feelings, exquisitely beautiful. Yet she appeared confident in innocence and did not tremble, although gazed on and execrated by thousands, for all the kindness which her beauty might otherwise have excited was obliterated in the minds of the spectators by the imagination of the enormity she was supposed to have committed. She was tranquil, yet her tranquillity was evidently constrained; and as her confusion had before been adduced as a proof of her guilt, she worked up her mind to an appearance of courage. When she entered the court she threw her eyes round it and quickly discovered where we were seated. A tear seemed to dim her eye when she saw us, but she quickly recovered herself, and a look of sorrowful affection seemed to attest her utter guiltlessness. Sorrowful affection: lily of the valley, tuberose, pink carnation, green tea absolute, orange zest, bourbon geranium, and blue musk. This is a pretty scent. It is mostly floral and musk while it's wet, with a hint of citrus and tea. I get the lily and carnation primarily. It gets kind of sharp and slightly soapy as it dries, probably as the lily and tea get stronger and come to the front. Dry, it is mostly sharp floral tea. I liked it more in the wet stage, I think, but it is pretty.
