alexandra

In the vial: whoah, aggressive ginger Wet: rudely-shaped root ginger. Hot. I found I was standing straighter. Much more harsh than I was expecting but it becomes me. I'm experiencing a most unusual and not unpleasant feeling of arrogance. Dry: spices roasted in a dry pan by a man intent on seduction. My wrist tingles gently, throbbing. And?... cor blimey. Not foody or comforting on me at all which is fine as I have other ginger scents for that - this is indecent and brilliant. I will wear it when I want confidence to do many things. And one thing in particular.

In the vial: Generic spicey autumn Wet: Ooh interesting, it rounds out and deepens immediately into warm peach cobbler with vanilla custard. Dry: A magic pie made with thick buttery pastry and filled one minute with apple the next with peach. The clove is there alright, studding the pastry. I don't smell any pumpkin, mind. And?...: I quite like. It has the strongest throw I've tried to date but I can't see me wearing it much. Oddly, it already feels too late in the year to wear it!

In the vial: Aw this is great! Beautiful colour and utterly unsullied, happy fruit. Wet: Initially I see fruit salad penny chews but then it loses all artificial tones. Then it shunts wildly between fruits - it's a fruit machine one-arm-bandit coming up with cherry, pineapple and strawberry, then blackberry, pear and lime then cantaloupe, plum and peach. Dry: Fading fast into peach fuzz. Good for nuzzling. And?... I will niff the imp and wear it in the dark months to come when I want to be reminded that the sun will return. Lovely.

In the vial: Mango that seems fine on the outside but is rotten and black inside. Wet: Goats' milk on the turn poured on a platter of mango and meat slices. Honey crawls heavily over it. Better but not pleasant on me. Dry: Better again. But still smells like the inside of a fridge where the food has been left to die. And?... Not for me. I'm going to have to look out for milk going off on me.

In the imp: Rum n raisin fudge ice cream with shaved coconut. Yummm. Wet: I swiped this on just before a class and I felt severely naughty when I caught a whiff of my wrist. It's holiday crush gets serious. I'm in Crete by the pool with an oversized glass of pina colada. But it is night and the drums are beginning to pound. Dry: It is gorgeous. Lovely buttery coconut with warm rum depth. And?... I can't detect any tobacco but that's dandy - I love this so far, it smells sexy and minxy but I get the impression that Elegba must be respected. Too much time spent in his company could be dangerous.

I am but a noob and have seen very little bottle artwork but this is fabulous - proper circus strangeness. I really hope I love this. In the vial: Like walking into a shop selling many scented candles, quite artifical. When I take another sniff I get past this to the orange, vanilla and musk. Only the slightest touch of cocoa. Not so sure about this. Wet: Quite rich and deep, figgy tendencies. The tonka pops up I think. But still not in love. Dry: A fruity round vanilla with musk hitting the nose first, rather festive. Also a bit musty: it makes me think of unpacking the christmas decorations after they've been in the attic getting damp and dusty. In my head I'm shaking out my mouldering stocking which still has pieces of satsuma peel in the heel. And?...: Tis okay, but not special on me. I may wear it in the run up to Christmas (until my Yules get here!).

I bought this as I love snogging during thunderstorms! In the vial: Sweet and floral. Where's the thunder? The darkening skies? Wet: Like walking into the bathroom after my glamorous aunties have been preening and getting a mouthful of hairspray, perfume and face powder. Not pleasant. Dry: soap on a rope. The Husband won't come any where near me. Best removed I think. And?.... Not right on me. I'll have to work out if that's the black opium. No thundrous snogs for me. ETA: My nose has improved and the imp has aged and now I find Anathema to be splendid. The opium is heavy at first them the honeysuckle blooms, like at sunset when walking past a house clouded by honeysuckle and from inside comes the smell of opium smoke and something naughty. The vetiver adds a blood like tang to it. Vampiric, I'd say. Possible bottle.

One of the first bpals I tried as I love the Bluebeard stories - particularly The Bloody Chamber. I expect him to be manipulative, charming and uncompromising. And I'd like an olfactory echo of the forbidden room itself... In the imp: Hmm - sharp, bright lavender. Ooh you nasty boy. I like bad boys but they need a spot of softness. Wet: Brutal, bright lavender. Frankincense raises a fist. Dry-down: Very Graham Greene. Violet acting as agent provocateur while heavies lavender and frankincense lean on the bar, knuckle-dusters glinting. Dry: Dark but still sharp lavender, a warm metallic there. I quite like it. It is invigorating and adrenalin filled: rather than the man himself, the metallic notes make me think of the tell-tale key to Bluebeard's room - all silver and indelible blood. But there is something redeeming in there as well, very apt indeed. The Husband Sniffs - "what's that you're wearing? It's uplifting." And?... I don't love it but it makes a fascinating vision of the fairytale and I will use it to write - job done!

This was a gift from a lovely enabler! In the vial: fruity patchouli. Not so keen on patchouli Wet: Percy Patchouli is here alright with a friend - but it's not Miss Apricot, adding innocence and promise, but instead it's Mr Black.....Pepper. Dry: Mr Black Pepper steps forward. It is as if I've walked into a kitchen where chefs are shaking pepper pots at each other in rage. There is no sign of an apricot in that kitchen. The Husband Sniffs: "hippies" And?: I wanted to bring out my depraved side but it's been scared away by unhappy hippies.

In the vial: Urgh - If marzipan was a super-villain. And I hate marzipan. Bad almond gagathon. But reviews have said Mr Marzipan disapparates so, in the interest of furthering knowledge, I put him on my wrist... Wet: For one minute it is cherry bakewell badness but then the bad almonds go, and it is spicy-sweet christmas on my wrist - good gracious. Hopes soar. Dry: And then it settles back into a warm spice strangely mixed with talcum-powdered rubber - like a pilates stretch band after use that's been dusted with clove, cinnamon and all-spice. Odd, but likeable. The Husband Sniffs - "Cinnamony chocolatey stuff", "comforting, homely" - "s'alright". And?: It is indeed 'alright' but not fabulous. One to wear when in need of succour, or when I want to work out my core muscles.

Sniffin' the imp: whoah mama, that's pink. My first reaction was to put it far, far away as it felt like I was trapped in a room crammed to the ceiling with pink pick 'n' mix and the walls were closing in... Wet: And then, a week later, I gave my first set of imps a re-sniff and this one waved hello, jangling his bells as he did so. I slipped him on my wrists and suddenly felt very happy. It's a deeper version of Lush's Candy Fluff/Snow Fairy on me - sweet-shop sweet with a touch of musk. An hour later: Sweet happiness. It made me feel quite calm but jolly and I got on with some writing without any qualms or dashing to see if anything was going on in the various fora I frequent . When I woke my husband up after his well-deserved lie-in, his first words were - 'mmm, you smell nice. You smell like Snow Fairy.' Despite this being a pink showergel, my DH loves it and now loves Jester. He's been sniffing me all day. Three hours later: it has dies down to a sweet yet contemplative musk - very appropriate for the sad clown of the court. I reapplied on one wrist to get the bouncing version back but kept the right wrist pensive. And...?: I like. And my husband likes. And there I was thinking I was such a dark creature.

My first bpal, my first review, my first post. Be gentle with me. In the imp: Oh the pine. I do love the pine. This is very good indeed. Head-clearing, invigorating. There are spikes of cypress coming through. Take me into your woods, Black Forest, and scare me. Wet: The pine trees have wept upon my wrists. Truly heavenly. This makes me want to re-watch Twin Peaks. Again. Moments later: And who’s your lovely friend, Mr Pine? Someone warm , a tree hugger of some kind. Not good on notes yet but it looks like it’s the ambergris projecting a cuddly presence. Drydown: Pine sways over sweet forest floor. 2 hours later: The pine Ents have wandered off as if under threat from the saw mill and I’m left with a powdery sweet ambergris and musk combo with a faint gesture of juniper. Nothing feral or fearful on me but I’m still a-sniffing my wrist. 6 hours later: Still there, powdered sweetness. And…? The woods are lovely but not in any way dark or deep, which is a bit of a shame as I like to be terrified. But once I’ve adjusted to this road less travelled being being a safe one, I’m skipping down it. I kinda like it. It makes a comforting room scent that makes me feel confident and capable. Which is unusual. And as I watched the whole of series one of TP while burning it, it is now irrevocably yoked for me with the delicious Agent Cooper. I’m going to get another imp at the very least.