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Showing results for tags 'Yule 2017'.
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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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My most remarkable experience has been with Dr. H. Slade of New York, for whom I have formed a high regard. I first met him at his residence last November, when, without announcing my name, in three consecutive sittings, at eleven o’clock in the morning, seated at a small, bare table in the centre of a light room, there written on the under side of a slate placed on the table, several communications addressed to me, purporting to come from my deceased friends. I pass over the other manifestations – such as the movement of heavy articles of furniture in plain view, without visible contact – and confine myself to the writing on the slate, which I regarded with most interest… – Thos. W. Waterman, Binghamton, NY, July 14, 1873 The result of a physical law which is not yet understood, and the existence of which has hitherto scarcely been suspected: beeswax candles, chalk, and dust. In the Bottle: Rich beewax and a little bit of a dusty background On the Skin: The beautiful lab beeswax note, rich and sweet. The dry chalky note and dust emerges quite quickly to dry out the blend and tone down the sweetness of the beeswax. I am loving the chalkiness. On the Drydown: Stays fairly consistent through the drydown as a dusty beeswax but the beeswax amps up every now and then. I love it.
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For the sake of continuity the subsequent history of the Fox sisters will now be given after the events at Hydesville. It is a remarkable, and to Spiritualists a painful, story, but it bears its own lesson and should be faithfully recorded. When men have an honest and whole-hearted aspiration for truth there is no development which can ever leave them abashed or find no place in their scheme. For some years the two younger sisters, Kate and Margaret, gave séances at New York and other places, successfully meeting every test which was applied to them. Horace Greeley, afterwards a candidate for the United States presidency, was, as already shown, deeply interested in them and convinced of their entire honesty. He is said to have furnished the funds by which the younger girl completed her very imperfect education. During these years of public mediumship, when the girls were all the rage among those who had no conception of the religious significance of this new revelation, and who concerned themselves with it purely in the hope of worldly advantage, the sisters exposed themselves to the enervating influences of promiscuous séances in a way which no earnest Spiritualist could justify. The dangers of such practices were not then so clearly realized as now, nor had it occurred to people that it is unlikely that high spirits would descend to earth in order to advise as to the state of railway stocks or the issue of love affairs. The ignorance was universal, and there was no wise mentor at the elbow of these poor pioneers to point the higher and the safer path. Worst of all, their jaded energies were renewed by the offer of wine at a time when one at least of them was hardly more than a child. It is said that there was some family predisposition towards alcoholism, but even without such a taint their whole procedure and mode of life were rash to the last degree. Against their moral character there has never been a breath of suspicion, but they had taken a road which leads to degeneration of mind and character, though it was many years before the more serious effects were manifest. Some idea of the pressure upon the Fox girls at this time may be gathered from Mrs. Hardinge Britten's* description from her own observation. She talks of “pausing on the first floor to hear poor patient Kate Fox, in the midst of a captious, grumbling crowd of investigators, repeating hour after hour the letters of the alphabet, while the no less poor, patient spirits rapped out names, ages and dates to suit all comers.” Can one wonder that the girls, with vitality sapped, the beautiful, watchful influence of the mother removed, and harassed by enemies, succumbed to a gradually increasing temptation in the direction of stimulants? —Arthur Conan Doyle Deception and despair: rose geranium and tea roses with mahogany wood, bourbon vanilla, and apple peel. I can definitely smell the apple peel, but it's not that meekly-fruity apple note that I disliked in many BPALs - this is red, blood-red, juicy-blood-red apple that's almost aggressive in its boldness. Man, finally an apple scent I like! It settles back after a while, letting the geranium and mahogany have a chance, and what a perfect combination of notes this is! I smell almost no rose and vanilla is hiding back there somewhere, apparent but subtle. The main notes remain red apple, mahogany and geranium, and it's a brilliant blend. Polished, red and mouth-wateringly juicy. Very glad I got a bottle!
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Incense swirling through a winter forest. Nice frankincense with just a hint of pine pitch. In truth, I was expecting some smoke & hoping for a lot more winter forest than I'm sensing here. But if you really like frankincense, grab this one.
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Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun! One mellow smile through the soft vapoury air, Ere, o'er the frozen earth, the loud winds ran, Or snows are sifted o'er the meadows bare. One smile on the brown hills and naked trees, And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast, And the blue Gentian flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last. Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee Shall murmur by the hedge that skim the way, The cricket chirp upon the russet lea, And man delight to linger in thy ray. Yet one rich smile, and we will try to bear The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air. Autumn leaves damp beneath the first snowfall. This is one of those "how did she do it??" scents, for smelling November virtually paints a picture in my mind. In the bottle and upon initial application, I thought November smelled very much of pine, and reminded me a lot of other forest-in-the-snowstorm scents. Then, after 5 minutes, the fragrance of leaves arrived, and I was astonished! November smells exactly like wet leaves and snow-laden trees after the first snowfall, before the leaves and the plant life have utterly frozen and died away for the winter. On my skin, there's also a heavy element of ozone in this scent, evoking for me a late autumn storm, when rainfall turns into heavy, wet snow. Finally, I get whiff of wet earth underneath the leaves and the the snow. November is unisex-to-masculine without being dark and heavy, and I think this scent will please greatly anyone who loves fragrances that smell just like the outdoors. I think it is an utterly precise and lovely olfactory evocation of walking through a park after the first snowstorm in November.
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THE PEACOCK QUEEN In dramatic contrast to the soft innocence of Snow White and the dew-kissed freshness of her sister, Rose Red, this is a blood red, voluptuous rose, velvet-petaled, at the height of bloom. Haughty and imperious, vain, yet incomparably lovely to the eye, but thick with thorns of jealousy, pride and hatred. I love rose. Let me just get that out of the way. That said, The Peacock Queen is not necessarily my favorite incarnation of the versatile rose. However, Beth has flat-out nailed the concept of "haughty" in scent. This rose is haughty. It is very much a fresh, blooming rose . . . but there's something very distant about this rose. It's not a rose that's blooming from the earth. It's one dozen very expensive, perfect red roses, bought for a woman who expects that sort of thing. It's perfume. It's striking. It's very beautiful, but not approachable. Remarkable. Like I said, this isn't my personal favorite of the rose blends, just because the vibe it evokes isn't entirely "me," but I am incredibly impressed with the artistry of the scent and with how many different ways rose can smell and feel.
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No additional description provided. Scent description for Jersey Devil is here.] This one is mainly Jersey Devil with a touch of snow. I get mainly notes of frosted cranberries and blackberries. And a background of cedar. Good throw and wear length.
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At a late period in the evening, after nearly three hours of experiment, Mrs Hayden having risen, and talking at another table while taking refreshment, a child suddenly called out, Will all the spirits who have been here this evening rap together? The words were no sooner uttered than a hailstorm of knitting-needles was heard, crowded into certainly less than two seconds; the big needle sounds of the men, and the little ones of the women and children, being clearly distinguishable, but perfectly disorderly in their arrival. Augustus de Morgan Polished mahogany and black tea with a clatter of vanilla husk and oak wood. In the bottle this is vanilla tea with a little bit of dark polished wood underneath and it stays true on my skin. A deep rich vanilla tea, with the woods coming in for support. Elegant and cozy.
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The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut. Red Rose. Limited edition. My favorite rose so far. This is the first rose scent I haven't melted off within an hour. (I was amazed the first time I wore it. Eight hours, and no need to reapply!) In the bottle, it smells like a rose from the florist - that cold hothouse smell. On, it warms up slightly, but not too much - it's got a slight bite, which is a nice change from most roses that fade to a powdery softness. I'll be very sad when I finish this one.
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HYPOTHERMIA Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm! How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? Bone-chilling, heart-stopping cold. In the bottle Lots of mint, spearmint being the top note. Wet: Very minty, with the spearmint prominent. The dry-down: I had high hopes for this scent, and ordered it unsniffed. If you like mint, and especially spearmint, you will like this oil. At this point I'm reminded of Cloister Graveyard in the Snow and Death of the Gravedigger; from both of those I was hoping for snow and got a lot of mint instead. Hypothermia is their LE cousin, only it's not as strong and it doesn't last as long as either of those two scents. It's also not very cool on the wrist, as is usually typical with oils that contain the snow note. The snow note, to my nose, does have mint in the blend, but it's never overpowering as the mint in these three oils. Colour me disappointed.
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Wynter wakeneth al my care, Nou this leves waxeth bare; Ofte I sike ant mourne sare When hit cometh in my thoght Of this worldes joie, hou hit goth al to noht. Nou hit is, and nou hit nys, Also hit ner nere, ywys; That moni mon seith, soth hit ys: Al goth bote Godes wille: Alle we shule deye, thah us like ylle. Al that gren me graueth grene, Nou hit faleweth al by dene: Jesu, help that hit be sene Ant shild us from helle! For y not whider y shal, ne hou longe her duelle. May we be saved and save ourselves from these hard, cruel times, and may we find strength together, for we know not where we go, nor how long we will dwell here. A warming, uplifting, strengthening scent: patchouli and sweet amber with champaca, bourbon vanilla, and frankincense. This is just beautiful. All of the notes are evident, with the frankincense and bourbon vanilla initially prominent. In time, the champaca and patchouli become more dominant. It's not overly sweet. It's not a churchy incense scent nor a dirty hippy scent, but somewhere in a happy middle place. It reminds me of something which is escaping me at the moment.
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Sevivon, sov, sov, sov Chanukah, hu chag tov Chanukah, hu chag tov Sevivon, sov, sov, sov! Chag simcha hu la-am Nes gadol haya sham Nes gadol haya sham Chag simcha hu la-am. A bounty of chocolate coins! Dry cocoa and golden amber! Gelt is gorgeous. I'm not a foody fan, but I will be hoarding this. In the bottle: perfect cocoa powder, with a dash of hazelnut. This is not very sweet at all, it's exactly like sticking your nose into a fresh box of expensive cocoa powder that's got some hazelnut flavor. Application: The same, but it immediately starts warming up. The amber is poking it's head through the cocoa and giving it a homey warm feeling. This is the scent of curling up on a chilly night with a steaming mug of cocoa, prepared from scratch the stove-top way, with a healthy splash of frangelico. 15 minutes: Much the same as application. There's still beautiful, dry cocoa and the golden warmth of amber. It hasn't sweetened up or collapsed in on itself. Overall: This is a remarkable scent. It smells precisely as described by the lab, and I think can be appreciated by both foody and non-foody fans. I will be stocking up on this before it vanishes.
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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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[No additional description provided. Scent description for Dorian is here.] In the bottle: Slightly chilled Dorian. The musk and fougere of Dorian mingled with the chilly sweetness of Snow White. Wet: On my skin, I'm getting powdery snow and Dorian. The snow note is not ozone-y or extremely minty, nor is it citrus-y or of the slushy variety. Although I do get a sufficient amount of the cold component and Dorian, the frostbite note is more prominent on me. As it begins to dry down, the chilly part of this particular snow note ends up increasing in strength. Dry: It's a lot sweeter now, thanks to the sweetness from the snow note and the sugared vanilla tea from the Dorian (which always ends up being a dominant note once dry on me). I applied Go to Sleep, Darlings on my upper arm for reference (which features the snow note from Snow White without the floral notes). At first, Frostbitten Dorian isn't as sweet, but the scent becomes sweeter over time. It is a blustery day in the hundred acre desert, and as I was walking around outside, I kept getting hit with the same magical chilly sweetness that I get from Snow White. Verdict: Hoard-worthy.
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The cold earth slept below, Above the cold sky shone; And all around, with a chilling sound, From caves of ice and fields of snow, The breath of night like death did flow Beneath the sinking moon. The wintry hedge was black, The green grass was not seen, The birds did rest on the bare thorn's breast, Whose roots, beside the pathway track, Had bound their folds o'er many a crack Which the frost had made between. Thine eyes glowed in the glare Of the moon's dying light; As a fen-fire's beam on a sluggish stream Gleams dimly, so the moon shone there, And it yellowed the strings of thy raven hair, That shook in the wind of night. The moon made thy lips pale, beloved— The wind made thy bosom chill— The night did shed on thy dear head Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie Where the bitter breath of the naked sky Might visit thee at will. - Percy Bysshe Shelley The moon’s dying light: cypress boughs and yew, death-cold beams of white musk, white thyme, marbled orris, Spanish moss, grave soil, and a sprig of rosemary. In the bottle: Herbaceous, with white musk in the background. The white musk has a familiarity to it, and it strikes me that this is one of the musks used in Dorian. However, the herbs are the forefront of it; the musk just sort of ties everything together. The herbal scent is STRONG, mind you. This makes me think of a frozen landscape, just on the edge of an evergreen-laden forest. Wet, on skin: Still herbal, but with something deeper. Is this the cypress and yew? The musk comes out more strongly on me here. I also smell a bit of the grave soil, but the dirt smell isn't too overpowering. This smells sharp and clean, but it has an underlying softness and darkness to it. Drydown: The sharpness of the herbs starts to die down as this dries, and the musk and moss and wood come out more, and the notes balance each other out better. I'm not sure what marbled orris smells like, so I can't speak on that. However, to me, this smells clean and soft and herbal, with just the slightest tinge of something sharp, and a very faint sweetness that grows as it wears. It's not too terribly soapy on me, likely thanks to the soil and musk and yew. I find this scent to be very unisex. I can't stop smelling my wrist! I really do love herbal scents, though! I'm glad I grabbed a bottle of this. It's really lovely.
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The festival of Roman goddess of death, Larenta, who was also known as Dea Tacita, the Silent Goddess. Spells to silence and bind slanderous enemies were cast on her holy days, as were spells of closure and suppression. During this time, offerings to the dead are left on thresholds, where spirits are said to dwell. A Roman funeral garden: cypress, thyme, oleander, crocus, gladiola, amaranth, and myrtle shrouded by herbs and flowers sacred to the Silent One. A brown/green scent with quite a bit of throw. The greens here remind me of when I used to go around at night clipping the neighborhood English boxwoods and hollies for greens to use in wreathmaking. This isn't the cedar and pine of craft store/car freshener variety. Gentle florals, no divas. They are tucked into the herbs. Smelling Larentalia deeply, I wonder if it's just a nice meditative blend or perhaps some magical intent was used in creating it. It's one of those BPAL's that smell like they come from Twilight Alchemy Lab. As a Yule blend, this works for those moments you reflect on dear ones who have departed. When nostalgia takes over. So often it's said the Winter holidays are for children. There is always a place for those who've passed on. Curious I pulled this out right after Mourning Moon. >>>>>> Takes another deep breath of the perfume. Hopefully I haven't any enemies and if these are none of them are slandering me.
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Clove, tobacco, sweet red patchouli, and chocolate. A Wild and Naughty Girl reminds me of a Vosges truffle: smooth, exotic, and luxurious. This is deep, dark chocolate with warm clove and earthy-sweet tobacco and patchouli. As the blend dries, the chocolate takes a back seat to the other notes. It's like lounging in front of the fireplace while a snowstorm rages outside your cozy cabin and your best friend makes hot chocolate (probably spiked) in a little cast iron cooking pot over the flames.
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The desire to inflict a mortal wound on the monster, Superstition, which, from a similar origin, a few centuries ago, inflicted on European society so vast an amount of misery, and by whose influence not hundreds, but thousands, of innocent persons died in tortures, on the rack and at the stake; the desire made me wish to make the experiment, if possible, of bringing a highly sensitive person, by night, to a churchyard. I thought it possible that they might see, over graves where mouldering bodies lay, something like that which Billing had seen. Eucalyptus blossom, lime rind, and white mint coalescing into a green-tinged amber glow. In the bottle this is soft and green. Sweet lime, zingy but not sour and puckering with the softest most gentle eucalyptus I have ever smelled. I normally think of eucalyptus as purely utilitarian for use in aromatherapy bath products, but I never find it pleasant or wearable (in regards to perfume). Beth has completely transformed the possibilities of this note for me. It dries down into a truly eerie green scent. Light mint (not a chilly mint) with the lime, eucalyptus, and amber all softly mingling. I cannot stress enough how gentle this blend is, despite the potential of the notes for being bright or bracing. Very soothing and relaxing, perfect for hectic winter celebrations.
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Terebinth resin crackling with amber and coarse black tobacco, a drop of cardamom husk, caramelized brown sugar, and smoky birch tar. The Language of Crows is sweetness in tension with smoky resins and tobacco. On the one hand, this blend highlights the warmth of amber and caramelized brown sugar. On the other, it highlights the rootsy, gently camphorous terebinth resin and smoky birch tar. The cardamom husk moderates, in a restrained role. On, the sweetness and tobacco reminds me of my beloved Bulgarian Tobacco SN. But this is (obviously) more complex. I would recommend this to those who love tobacco when it's paired with something sweet, and for those who love the brown sugar note but don't mind smoky resins cresting underneath.
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Rolling mounds of snow blanketing dwarf birch, willow shrub, black crowberry, and moss campion. This is a predominantly soft, slightly spearmint-y snow blend. A bit like the top note of Snow Bunny. There's a touch of slightly dry greenery - and maybe moss? It's definitely on the more environmental of snow notes. While pleasant, it has pretty low staying power - although this may just be my nose getting used to it really quick, and it being remarkably smoothly composed so that I'm not getting struck by any powerful recurrent scent theme. I like this a lot. It's not super 'minty' but has that sweet, slushy snow note with a kiss of powder, and then the outdoors.
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A soft tea rose sandalwood, sweet with vanilla, golden honey, and sugar cane. In love! This is a soft pink rose spun sugar. Airy and sweet, but not tooth-achingly so. This is different than Razors in a Doll's House, it is softer and lacks the cognac note (which pushed it a little sharp and green for me).
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The pure, gentle dreams of the innocent: French lavender, white pear, white sandalwood, and Italian bergamot. Origin: Straight from the Post Initial Thoughts: I like lavender, sandalwood, and pear. Bergamot is okay. There is nothing to fear in this and potentially plenty of good for another lavender-based gloss once my Lilith's runs out. In the Bottle: Lavender and bergamot, with a hint of sandalwood. On Wet Hair: Lavender, sandalwood, and a hint of pear. After Blowdrying: Mostly lavender, but the other notes make it soft and sweet without really presenting themselves. Verdict: A quiet and pretty scent, good for the workplace.
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Fear of Riding in Cars Encased in a roaring tomb of vinyl siding, strangled by nylon bindings, arms bruised and battered by writhing bodies punching and pummeling—punctuated by wild cries of SLUG BUG and CALL BOX—and endless discordant choruses of 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall. Motor oil, a burst of exhaust, a faded tree-shaped air freshener, and crushed gas station chocolates. Based on description alone, this is less an everyday scent and more of a marvel, not the most wearable but certainly impressive in terms of accuracy. That said, this is a very nostalgic scent for me. My father is what some might call a 'gearhead', and as such I was made familiar with the smells of everything automotive from a young age. This reminds me of all the times I was dragged into the garage to unwillingly assist with some project, and the smell that clung to my clothes thereafter. All the fumes without the headache; the smell of a busy garage or mechanic's shop. The exhaust note is strongest at first but the air freshener (pine, like the little tree-shaped ones) is apparent too. I also get a whiff of what smells like tires, and perhaps antifreeze as well. This is not a casual scent by any means! I'd likely wear this to a racetrack, rock concert, or out drinking.
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"The case I allude to is that of an invalid woman who belongs to the humblest class of society. She is nearly thirty years old and very ignorant; her look is neither fascinating nor endowed with the power which modern criminologists call irresistible; but when she wishes, be it by day or by night, she can divert a curious group for an hour or so with the most surprising phenomena. Either bound to a seat or firmly held by the hands of the curious, she attracts to her the articles of furniture which surround her, lifts them up, holds them suspended in the air like Mahomet’s coffin, and makes them come down again with undulatory movements, as if they were obeying her will. She increases their weight or lessens it according to her pleasure. She raps or taps upon the walls, the ceiling, the floor, with fine rhythm and cadence. In response to the requests of the spectators, something like flashes of electricity shoot forth from her body, and envelop her or enwrap the spectators of these marvellous scenes. She draws upon cards that you hold out, everything that you want – figures, signatures, numbers, sentences – by just stretching out her hand toward the indicated place. “If you place in the corner of the room a vessel containing a layer of soft clay, you find after some moments the imprint in it of a small or a large hand, the image of a face (front view or profile) from which a plaster cast can be taken. In this way portraits of a face taken at different angles have been preserved, and those who desire so to do can thus make serious and important studies. “This woman rises in the air, no matter what bands tie her down. She seems to lie upon the empty air, as on a couch, contrary to all the laws of gravity; she plays on musical instruments – organs, bells, tambourines – as if they had been touched by her hands or moved by the breath of invisible gnomes… This woman at times can increase her stature by more than four inches. —Chiaia, in a letter to Lombroso Pale lilacs, white tea, and candle wax. The Lab's candlewax always starts out with a burst of citrus (to my nose, at least), in this case a light clementine-juice scent that obscures the lilac completely while wet. 10 min: Spicy? Tingly-spicy? I'm not sure where that's coming from, but the white tea comes out too, with the lilacs. 20 min: Lilac gets a bad rap around here sometimes, and I was really rooting for it, but the beeswax is making the floral part smell a bit sour and sweaty. It's a very light and inoffensive scent, but when I get in close to the wrist to go "where my lilacs at" it smells like someone holding a lilac bloom crushed in a sweaty fist. 25 min: Sweaty part over. Soft, light, citrussy floral. Flowery but not distinctively lilac. Verdict: Not for me. [EDIT: I don't know when I'm going to learn that it really does make a difference to let scents settle after coming here in the post, but this one was pretty different on second test. Way more wax, no weird citrus, a warm and sweet beeswax scent with a distinct high-toned floral. Though it still doesn't really smell like lilacs to me? I have no idea.]
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You have it, everyone has it for everyone is born a hypnotist. Would you like to develop your hypnotic powers and wield an influence over others? Would you like to sway the minds of men, make friends and achieve success? You can develop this power in the privacy of your room. Influence the minds, health, and actions of others (results not guaranteed): lavender, mugwort and hops with sandalwood, jasmine sambac, bourbon vanilla, and a mesmerizing wave of white musk. I love the label on this atmo! And I don't know how this is possible, but this is reminding me a bit of a non-floral Erebos. Jasmine-haters, I don't get a lot of jasmine from this at all. Lavender is the primary note, with everything else rounding it out. It's a dry, herbal, musky, vanilla lavender—I only get the sandalwood and jasmine if I'm really looking for them. Another fantastic sleep/chill out scent that I'll keep in the bedroom for dusting linens before bed.
