in the bottle: Something a little fake and plastic-y. A blast of sweet almond. Musk, not overpowering. Overtones of ... ? I don't know. Something that puts me in mind of just-dried sweat. Not unpleasant. Maybe the initial musk (or a second musk).

on wet: Plastic and almond with overtones of musk and powder. The fresh sweat smell is gone. So far, this is staying remarkably close to my skin.

drydown: Powdery musk. Something a little resinous and/or smoky. Powdery, mostly. Some catch-in-the-throat smokiness coming through, but just barely.

one hour later: Powder, dammit! Why do so many things end up smelling like powder on me?

end of day: I've tried this oil twice now and haven't made it to the end of the day with it. What I mean is, I lose interest, forget about it, then end up remembering a few days later that I never did my final assessment. I wanted to like this, so it bothers me a little to say this: it fails to make an impression. Quite literally. Can't say it's good or bad. Just ... meh.

compared to official description: No idea what ylang-ylang smells like. See "notes after notes" at the end of this review.

notes: Oddly, the cap of the imp (on the inside) smells overpoweringly of plastic and almond. The liquid in the vial is more fresh sweat and musk. I'm guessing some separation happened, but I can't seem to get it recombined. I think there's too little space in the vial to get a good shaking action going. I'll stand the vial on its head for a week or so to see if that makes a difference. [edited to add: I did this. Made a little bit of difference, but there's still a sense of separation.]

notes after notes: If there are moments that deserve to be immortalized with paint, music, or scented oils, they are the ones where words fail. "Seduction, sensuality, the Act, and the aftermath" would definitely be one of those moments. I admire Beth's courage in trying to capture the moment in scent, but I have trouble imagining how you would even go about that. After all, no one wants to smell, literally, like they just had sex. So what then? "Warm, damp skin flushed with the glow of passion." Whose skin? I won't argue that you can't smell someone's desire on their skin, you definitely can. But it's not a particular scent, it's the difference (in anyone's skin) between normal and flushed, dry and damp, blood running normally or hormones raging. This is a different scent on different people. It's each of us, individually enhanced with the heat and chemicals of lust.

I'm not saying that the moment isn't full of wonderful scents: musky, salty, earthy. I can see trying to turn these into a scented oil, but I suspect that Beth is hamstrung in this effort (to a certain degree) by avoiding true animal musks. Maybe what's being attempted here is enhancement of skin -- any skin -- with scents that deepen the inherent skin-ness of each of us. Are we similar enough for this to be successful? I doubt it. There are threads full of people who find a "skin only better" scent for themselves, only for someone else to say it "smells like burned plastic" on them.

What's being captured here then? A feeling? How do you capture the electric ache of being close ... so close ... but not quite touching? With night-blooming florals? And the shuddery first brush of skin on skin; is that myrrh? What about being pulled tight to your lover and feeling the evidence of their desire? How about almost not being able to breathe, anticipating the moment when you'll feel them inside you? Is that ylang-ylang? My point is, we're talking about a series of events which are too tied to the deepest part of yourself, too complex in potential sensations and emotions, for translation, for distillation into a bottle. What defines the essence of breathless, aching sexual need? Almonds?

I know I'm being too literal, but the experience is going to be very different, not just from person to person, but sexual moment to sexual moment, even between the same people. What is a perfume designed to capture the essence of desire and fulfillment going to be like, really? Sometimes the moment is slow and warm; sometimes it's light and sweet. Then there's frantic, heady, overheated, and on and on. Just the idea of these different feelings, different ways in which the moment can play out, puts me in mind of different scents (different music, different colors, different textures, etc.).

If I'm going to be too nit-picky and literal, I may as well take it a step further and talk about the name. La petit mort isn't "seduction, sensuality, the Act, and the aftermath all in one," it's really only the aftermath; or rather, the climax. Can that be a perfume? So, the oil represents a sensation then? A sensation of pleasure? Of release?

I'm not being argumentative, truly. Though you could say I'm taking it a bit too seriously. I'll accept that. Granted, it's just scented oil. And marketing. I guess I went into this with a certain amount of doubt. I'm coming out of it with a feeling (a lot like certainty) that the only creative expression that could potentially do the moment justice is music. But that's another, um, essay.

Again, I think it's great that Beth is attempting these things. At worst, she'll produce some wonderful oils that give people a great deal of pleasure. At best, for someone, this may put them in mind of a lovely moment.

None of this will prevent me from trying other oils with similar themes, like O, Wanda, Perversion, etc. I'm certain I'll find one that, if not exactly putting me in the moment, will at least put me in the mood.

added to forum reviews