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Showing results for tags 'Yule 2018'.
Found 111 results
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Austrian black amber, woodsmoke, frankincense, and terebinth. The woodsmoke is the headliner note in this one, warmed by swoonworthy terebinth and brightened by the frank. Compared with the early acrid note from Hearthflame and Incense, this one is much warmer and more rounded to my nose. Maybe that's the black amber? This is definitely something I want to smell like. I am hoping the terebinth pops more as it settles/ages. Fresh, it's very wearable and wood-forward.
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[No additional description provided. Scent description for Snake Oil is here.] In the bottle: Lightly chilled Snake Oil. Wet: The fresh Snake Oil is far stronger than the frostbite component at first, which I believe is the chilled sweet snow note from Snow White. After a few minutes, the sweet snow note ends up becoming stronger. It really feels as if it is draped over the top of the Snake Oil, like Snake Oil curled up in a Snow White blanket. Dry: Like Snake Oil and Snow White had a baby. It's a snowdrift of the chilly sweetness of Go to Sleep, Darlings and Snow White over fresh Snake Oil. Verdict: My bottle leaked in a little transit, but was still full, and as soon as I smelled the scent on the bubble wrap, I was like, SNAKE OIL SNOW WHITE. HYPE! I tried to calm myself down before applying it in case I was mistaken. But that's what I ended up getting on my skin. This is really lovely. I'm really surprised how much the sweet snow note comes through, and I can't wait to see how this ages!
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Undoubtedly the greatest marvel of Spiritualism is the materialisation of the spirit form. It is highly interesting to study the gradual development of this phenomenon. It was not till some years after the advent of modern Spiritualism that materialisation was heard of. At first the spirits had power only to materialise a hand or foot, and that very imperfectly; then they were able to produce faces, several sometimes showing at one séance; but even at that time the spirits prophesied that the time would shortly come when they should be able to materialise a complete human form, and walk about in our midst. That time has now come. On two occasions I have witnessed the phenomenon of a spirit reincarnating itself — putting on a material body and dress — the body to all intents a human body, and the dress fabric of earthly produce. The spirit has not suddenly burst on my view in a perfected form, but slowly evolved out of nothingness before my eyes, and again melted away, repeating the process again and again! – Experiences in Spiritualism: A Record of Extraordinary Phenomena Witnessed Through the Most Powerful Mediums, With Some Historical Fragments Relating to Semiramide, Given by the Spirit of and Egyptian Who Lived Contemporary With Her by Catherine Berry A quiet perfume that emerges slowly out of nonbeing: white musk, ambergris accord, coconut, almond milk, and honeysuckle. Wispy, ethereal and enchanting. When first applied, the coconut leads the way, accompanied by the ambergris and almond milk, but it never strikes me as foody. Once it settles in, the musk and honeysuckle show up and I find I'm in love. Almost defies classification. It's not gourmand, not especially floral, but utterly lovely. Definitely back up bottle worthy.
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In examining and reporting these cases the witnesses averred that certain people, whom they called “materializing mediums,” had the strange physical gift that they could put forth from their bodies a viscous, gelatinous substance which appeared to differ from every known form of matter in that it could solidify and be used for material purposes, and yet could be reabsorbed, leaving absolutely no trace even upon the clothes which it had traversed in leaving the body. This substance was actually touched by some enterprising investigators, who reported that it was elastic and appeared to be sensitive, as though it was really an organic extrusion from the medium's body. —Arthur Conan Doyle, 1930 A luminous, viscid blend of white amber, lemongrass, white oakmoss, and davana. This is everything I hoped for. I'm not the world's biggest fan of lemongrass but I knew Beth would do something beautiful with it, something magical to take the harsh edge away, and that's exactly what she's done. This is a bright, juicy lemongrass that is tempered by the white amber. It has a sharpness when wet that completely disappears on the drydown. When dry and settled on my skin, it turns into an ethereal citrus that is uplifting and moreish. I adore this.
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If then, man, in every act, leaves the impression, or daguerreotype of his mental being upon the scenes of his life and the subjects of his action, we are by this law furnished with a new clue to the history of our race; and I think it highly probable, that, by the application of this principle, the chasms of history may be supplied, and a glimpse may be obtained of unrecorded ages and nations, whose early history is lost in darkness. The ancient manuscripts, paintings, and other works of art, which still exist – the crucifixes, garments, armor, and other ancient relics, still preserved – are doubtless still instinct with the spirit that produced them, and capable of revealing to psychometric exploration, the living realities with which they were once connected. At present, these relics are barren of significance. Their hidden meaning lies waiting the future explorer, as the hieroglyphics of Egypt awaited the arrival of Champillion to interpret their significance. And why should not the world be filled with the monuments and unwritten records of its past history? It would seem, to the superficial thinker, that man was entirely limited to tradition and written records for his knowledge of the past; but physical science proves, that the world possesses, embodied in enduring monuments, the story of its progressive existence. The geologist finds, in the different strata of the earth, in its curiously mingled and irregular structure, and in the fossil remains which it conceals in its bosom, the history of its various changes of surface, and of the antediluvian races of animals which have long been extinct. The huge Saurian monsters, which he portrays from their fossil relics, rise before the eye as incredible chimeras. And over this fertile region, now occupied by prosperous States, he revives, by the magic power of science, the antediluvian seas and their strange inhabitants, unknown to man. The Past is entombed in the Present! The world is its own enduring monument; and that which is true of its physical, is likewise true of its mental career. The discoveries of Psychometry will enable us to explore the history of man, as those of geology enable us to explore the history of the earth. There are mental fossils for psychologists as well as mineral fossils for the geologists; and I believe that hereafter the psychologist and the geologist will go hand in hand — the one portraying the earth, its animals and its vegetation, while the other portrays the human beings who have roamed over its surface in the shadows, and the darkness of primeval barbarism! Aye, the mental telescope is now discovered which may pierce the depths of the past and bring us in full view of the grand and tragic passages of ancient history! I know that, to many of my readers, unaccustomed to these investigations, and unacquainted with the first experimental facts of this great science, these anticipations must seem a visionary hope – too grand, too romantic, too transcendently beautiful to be true. But observe, that all is based upon familiar experiments, and these results are but legitimate deductions from familiar facts. As surely as the expansive power of steam gives premonition of the ocean steamship, does the power of Psychometry give promise of all the glorious performance to which I have alluded. —Buchanan, 1842 A tactile scent, groaning under the weight of aeons: wild fig, cedarwood, venerable ti leaf, and white sage. In vitro: Woody figgy. I love wood and I love figs. Let's do this. Wet on skin: The cedar and sage predominate, with the fig adding juicy sweetness. The sage contributes a very clean feeling that could strike people as smelling like really nice shampoo (Tabella did the same), but I am cool with that (I have three bottles of Tabella). Delicious, multi-dimensional cedar. Dry: Sillage is very close to the skin. This actually reminds me quite a bit of a more chilled-out Tabella, less bright and sharp, just fig and cedar and sage hanging out together. There's nothing flashy about this, in fact, but it's still compelling and substantial. It's a classy, calm, and wise scent, like meditating in a forest. Definitely unisex; I wouldn't call it masculine, but nevertheless this would probably be lovely on a guy. The sage gets stronger on drydown and reminds me of one of my favourite places in the world, the Mojave desert in southwestern Utah. Love it.
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Unearthly howls reverberate in the shadows of a darkened wood: black cedar, yew berries, juniper and frost-crusted moss, crushed beneath a shaggy spectral black musk. Frostbitten Malediction and Skadi had a baby in a pine forest. Love it! Goes on sweet, slowly turns dark.
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Black rose, Baltic amber, leather, white sandalwood, black pepper, and vetiver. Rose, sandalwood, amber and a whiff of peppery leather. I am really getting a ton of black rose from this. It's the most prominent note here. So yeah, rose with hints of everything else. Great throw and wear length. Because, yanno, rose.
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In Latvia, the Ziemassvetki, or Winter Party, is a celebration of the birth of Dievs, the Sky God and Supreme Ruler of the Latvian pantheon. The two weeks prior to the Ziemassvetki is Ve?u laiks: the Season of Ghosts. Candles are lit to honor the gods and a fire is kept burning throughout the Season, burning away the unhappiness of the previous year so men's spirits can be renewed. At the feast of the Ziemassvetki, places are left as a courtesy to the ghosts, who arrive by sleigh. A scent created to burn away sorrow: bergamot, frankincense, rose geranium, ginger, lemongrass, and blood orange. I bought Season of Ghosts, because I know there is some sorrow coming up for me that I'm really going to want to burn away. Winter is always a difficult time, but this one is sure to be one of the worst. In the bottle, first sniff is sort of soapy, but with something soft and warm. The oil itself is very dry. ... or maybe that's my skin. Wet on, it is not so soapy now. i can definitely smell the rose geranium and the lemongrass. This isn't really bright and citrussy, though it definitely does have citrus. something is sort of dusty, maybe that's the frankincense? I think this will actually work! Yay. A soft scent for sad days.
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The breath and tears and pulse of all life; the fluid that flows through all creation, permeating space and time and spirit: olibanum, red benzoin absolute, labdanum, betel leaf, galbanum, mastic, and angelica. Oh wow! Strong benzoin and labdanum, with a hint of angelica - this is stunning on application! Something slightly peppery comes out as it dries, I'm assuming this is the betel leaf (I have no clue what that smells like, so I'm guessing here), and it complements the sweet resins beautifully. Olibanum is very faint, I can barely tell it's there, but it gives this a smoky undertone. I don't smell any galbanum or mastic at this stage, but it's a great blend, especially for lovers of sweet incense resins, which I am. Near final dry-down I can detect a little more olibanum, a touch of mastic and now definitely some galbanum with its green-woody-rooty notes. Star players remain the benzoin and labdanum, making the blend sweet, dark-vanillic and rich, with the rooty, herbacious and deep green note of galbanum right alongside. I'm loving this already, and it's going to age spectacularly - very glad I got a bottle!
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In the long, sleepless watches of the night, A gentle face — the face of one long dead — Looks at me from the wall, where round its head The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light. Here in this room she died; and soul more white Never through martyrdom of fire was led To its repose; nor can in books be read The legend of a life more benedight. There is a mountain in the distant West That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines Displays a cross of snow upon its side. Such is the cross I wear upon my breast These eighteen years, through all the changing scenes And seasons, changeless since the day she died. – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Cypress, Spanish moss, and clove bud with labdanum, Italian bergamot, and white tobacco flower. This is a woodsey, slightly citrusy snow note. It's rather jarring and there is definitely something earthy in the background
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The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut. So. I never could wear Rose Red as a perfume oil. There is something in it that mixes with my skin chemistry and turns bad. I lose that sweet rose top note, and am left with despair. I ordered Rose Red HG hoping that the top note would stay, and was not disappointed. I now have the perfect HG for all my rosy needs. Rose Red is beautiful, and very strong. Rose lovers, buy this, hoard it. It is lovely.
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A sparkle of fiery warmth on a cold winter’s night. This was fresher and brighter than I imagined it would be—like ginger candy with fresh cardamom grated on it, or like an artisanal ginger ale or ginger beer. It’s a nice pick-me-up!
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Mod Note: There is a review topic for Perchta release years 2008 and 2017 located here. Per our Review sub-forum topic policy, a new review topic has been created for the 2018 release due to an inexact match with previous years' scent description. Perchta, the Shining One, is the Lady of the Beasts, an incarnation of the goddess Holda. She, too, leads the Wild Hunt, and is the protectress of wild animals, and appears to mortals as either a white-clad, white-skinned, white-haired beauty, or as a brutish, bestial hag. She is called Berhte Mit Dem Fuoze; one of her feet is shaped like a beast’s, which gives away her superhuman nature no matter how she is disguised. She is also called Perchta the Belly-Slitter, for, at Yuletide, she castigates the wicked, slovenly, and idle, and rewards those that are generous, good-natured, and kind. The Belly-Slitter enforced community taboos, punishing those that spun during holy days and those who failed to partake in sacred feasts, thus jeopardizing the next year’s harvest. Her punishments can be a bit over-the-top, though: they include disemboweling the transgressor and filling the empty cavity with refuse. Her scent is a blend of wild musk, snow, and alpine flora: Nigritella lithopolitanica, balsam fir, aconite, crocus, touch-me-not, edelweiss, iced sugar crystals, Iris variegate, and violet. This is lovely. It's not the "coldest" snow or ice blend I've ever tried. It's white, powdery, but complex enough to be interesting. It's sweet but not tooth-achingly so. The only notes I can pick out for certain are violet and the barest hint of fir. This is very clean and I'm considering a bottle
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This is the scent of an awkward encounter with a Yule-evoked doppelgänger mate: spectral cologne, blurry herbs, fireplace ash, and a dusting of crumbs. Dorian Dopplegänger! Dumb Cake smells like Dorian on the other side of the looking glass. The spectral cologne note is pretty great—like a luminous Dorian. The blurry herbs and dusting of crumbs are very faint...there's just an edge of something foody here, like white cake and the barest hint of perhaps rosemary? The ash is also spectral—pure grey-white, rather than gritty, sooty black. It's fantastic, and I will enjoy every drop (and endeavor to get some on my husband, because I think this would be amazing on him).
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In the month of December, another fair American medium arrived in England. This lady and her husband, Dr. Roberts, attended a course of lectures I was then delivering in Providence Chapel, upon Mesmerism and Animal Magnetism. They introduced themselves to me, and invited me to visit them. I did so, many times; and to them do I owe much; for, through the information I received from them, I have been enabled to inquire more fully into this soul-stirring, and very important subject, after several Seances at Mrs. Roberts's in Dyer's Buildings, Holborn [MD: original], where I witnessed the moving of the table in various directions. This is what is called “Table-turning,” and which has been attributed to Electricity or Animal Magnetism, by many intelligent and scientific persons… I have seen a loo-table suspended in the air, at least six inches from the ground, without anyone in the body touching it. —Hardinge, 1854 A heavy, tactile scent that thrums with voices from beyond: black polished teakwood, gullies of ectoplasm, and ghostly white musk. Wet: Starts out unpleasant. Strong camphor scent and sharp lemon. Dry down: This ones a real morpher. Camphor goes away almost immediately and the sharpness of the lemon starts to subside. Musk makes its appearance and I swear I smell vanilla. Dry: Okay, this is not what I was expecting but its actually very nice. Sweet lemony tea, vanilla, and musk with a wood smell underneath. I never would have said that it was specifically Teakwood.
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[No additional description provided.] Eucalyptus, pine, clove and Indonesian patchouli. This is an intensely eucalyptus-pine blend on wet, and it dries to a more pine-clove-patch blend. Definitely much more masculine. Good throw and wear length.
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The new discovery of “Table Moving,” by means of an unseen power from the human hand, has only been introduced into England within the last few weeks; but it would be difficult to dingle out any scientific subject which has with such rapidity, taken so extensive a hold of the popular mind. If we travel by railway carriage, steamboat, or omnibus, this is the universal topic of conversation. From the aristocratic saloons of Belgravia to the “Parlours” of Whitechapel – the Green Park to the Cat and Mutton Fields, “table moving” is all the rage. From the Royal Institution, where the secretary pokes his head through a forest of electrical apparatus, to inform the audience that the facts are established, down to the humblest Mechanics’ Institute, all are full of it, and the tables, to quote the words of the old song – “are all a moving, move, move, moving,” – Every evening party must of course have its experiments; accordingly, gentlemen come provided with very elegant chapeaux for the occasion, and many an innocent flirtation occurs consequent on the proper arrangement of the little fingers of some of the fair operators. As “sweet eighteen,” with her blue eyes and golden locks, gracefully links her little finger with Charles’s, in a retired corner, what wonder if the hat should tremble? And Charles, being of course fond of poetry (his very name is a guarantee for that), cannot resist softly breathing into Lucy’s ear, that exquisite line from Waller, on his fair one’s harp – “Touched by that hand – who would not tremble too?” And after a little more conversation of a strictly scientific character, they feel quite satisfied with the success of the experiment. Mamma, who has been watching the progress of the magnetic influence at a distance, “has no patience with such nonsense, and wonders young men and young women cannot find something better to do.” She forgets that there was a magnetic influence at work about twenty years since, and what little trifles served as conductors then. – Table Moving, its causes and phenomena: with directions how to experiment A spirit-touched courtship: sweet orange blossom, white honey, jasmine tea, white sandalwood, green apple, and lily of the valley. In the bottle - Very buoyant, happy greenery. Wet - Warm. I get lots of honey. Sweet green springtime scent. Drydown - I'm smelling honey, but thinking nectar. It actually reminds me of the Nectar hair gloss, and I'm picturing a miniature butterfly garden. Tickles my nose a bit. I'd have to re-sniff my decant, but my mind is drawing parallels between this and Venus Verticordia, which I also liked. This has more going on, though. Less grass, more tea. It gets less heavy as it wears. By the end of the day, this was a spectral memory of spring. Verdict - Just lovely. I can't see anyone being offended by this. Might even be a good work scent, since it doesn't have much throw.
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Red musk, black amber, red leather, teakwood, smoked lavender, and plum. This is one sexy blend. For fans of red musk, this one is different enough to include in the collection. The warm leather and teak gives it almost a unisex quality - in fact, I'll be trying this one on a boy soon - along the lines of Hellfire or Dee, with the faint whiffs of smoky lavender and red musk swirling into the mix, and that beautiful plum note from the lab giving it all a rich purply note. But it's the leather that is really warming this one up for me and sinking into my skin. It's incredibly sexy as it settles, losing throw but gaining that really nice second-skin quality. For fun, I put it up against Mme. Moriarty, with whom it shares the red musk and plum. They are quite different, but absolutely deserve to share shelf space in the same collection. Fans of A Savage Veil or Shadow in the Elevator (kissing cousins, minus the leather note) should definitely check this one out. I hadn't tried a red musk/leather scent before and Fifth Lash works SO well. I wish its throw lasted longer but really that is my only complaint. It's gorgeous.
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The piniest pine that ever pined, pining you right in the face. This is indeed a very piney and very cheerful pine. I think it’s the bit of lemon that lifts this one up and lends the cheerful aura. This is a very realistic, bright pine scent.
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Bitter almond, cacao, black cherry, patchouli, and labdanum. Oddly enough, this smells like Cherry coke and a whiff of dusty patchouli. I think the labdanum, combined with the bitter almond and black cherry end up as a sort of cherry cola type smell, and then you get that over a bit of dusty patchouli. Medium throw and wear length.
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Snickerdoodle Coffee with Hazelnut Cream Atmosphere Spray
ellocentipede posted a topic in Atmosphere
All sweetness and warmth. Yep—this one does what it says on the tin. Creamy, rich coffee with a hint of hazelnut (not too hazelnutty, but just enough to give a hint of rich nuttiness), cinnamon sugar, and a bit of burnt cookie. Snag this one if you love foodie coffee blends. -
Now, suppose this is to be accepted as the rational and scientific explanation of all the phenomena of this order which have been observed since the human race began to conserve records of its own experience. To what conclusion should we be logically forced? The believe in the objective reality of apparitions under such conditions would have to make way for a new conception, but the point which is really at issue between the materialist and the spiritualist would remain untouched. That issue relates to the permanence of the human personality after death. The spiritualist will point you to his own experiences as affording evidence of the permanence of personality. The materialist is certain that all the experiences of which the spiritualist is conscious result from the operation of natural law. But the eternal question of the soul – “Am I an immortal thing?” – is not to be decided either by the proof of the existence of whole armies of ghosts, or by the rational explanation of all apparitional phenomena whatsoever. The spiritualist falls into an easy error in the supposition that a continuance of personality on a new plane implies a permanence of continuity. What guarantee has a ghost of being immortal? Me not he also perish out of his appointed sphere? And why might we not fancy a whole procession of lives in phantom state – each more ghostly, more attenuated than its forerunner – the ghost of a man, the ghost of a man’s ghost, the ghost of a “ghost’s” ghost, until the thin thing fades into nonentity and slips back into the universal element? The materialist falls into an error parallel with that of the spiritualist when he conceives that a rational explanation of all ghostly phenomena has disposed of a belief in immortality. The concept is as independent of evidence, and as unsupportable by evidence as it is indestructible by evidence. We can neither prove nor disprove, but the balance of reason is still upon the side of the believer and it favours strongly the hope of a continued existence and a continued growth. We can but argue from things known. In all nature we find the clearest evidence of law of progress. – the Occult Review, January 1905 Falling into nonentity and slipping back into the universal element: pallid oakmoss and earthy patchouli tumbling into a void of misty lavender, cistus, and white agarwood. Misty lavender, oakmoss, and a whiff of patchouli. Misty is right! This is wispy, ghostly lavender. Medium throw and wear length.
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Red leather, chocolate, and black pepper. I get mainly red leather with whiffs of chocolate and black pepper. If you're into leather blends, give this a whirl. Medium throw and wear length.
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The second series commenced at 15, Southhampton Row, on Wednesday evening. Into the present course, the medium, Mr. Shepherd will introduce some of the more marked peculiarities of his singular performance. He sings at each concert in the soprano voice. A marked peculiarity: tonka bean and red sandalwood with orris, lemon peel, and leather. In the imp: A very light, almost powdery scent. I'm getting mainly the orris, with just a touch of leather and vague sweetness - maybe the tonka? There's a hint of a zing at the tail end, which I'm guessing is the lemon peel, although it's not identifiable as so at this stage. Wet: The orris is still dominant, although now the leather runs a close second. No zing, lemon-y or otherwise, though. No tonka or sandalwood that I can detect, alas. Dry: Tonka and sandalwood arrive to save the day! Now the orris/leather (mainly orris at this point, tbh) combo is elegant and subtle, not overwhelmingly powdery. This now smells like the dusting powder an elegant Victorian or Edwardian lady would use. Still no lemon peel that I can pick up, but perhaps that will improve with age.
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A sweet, dark ember of winter pleasure: port wine, brandy, and bourbon simmered with white sugar, cardamom, cinnamon, clove, orange peel, and wild blackcurrant. Black currant, spices, clove and port wine. Boozy black currant! If that's what you're looking for, this is a nice warm blend. Good throw and wear length.
