Macha

This was one of a number of imps that I bought (while they still could be bought) from the Lab in an effort to find a tarot fragrance I liked before committing the money to the cause, so to speak. In the Vial: Eww...cherries. Oh yuck. Cherries and pine. Hmm...well I'm putting it on anyway, damnit. Wet, on skin: Cherries and...hrm...mint. Hmm. That's...that's actually not so bad. You know, I think I could like this. The cherry is there, but it's not annoyingly cough syrup the way most cherry scents are to me. It's generally faded back to something fresh and sweet and is letting the mint take center stage. Dry, on skin: Oh, this is a bright, peaceful, energizing fragrance. It's minty and green, with a hint of cherry that somehow completely works with this. (Words I would have sworn to you I would NEVER say.) This is just...wow. It has incredible throw and staying power (mint with staying power? HOW?), and is just the most bright, wide-awake, glowing fragrance. Today I was more alert, more happy, more...aware...than I've been in ages. The most horrendous stressful crap happened to me at work today. I turned up the radio, grinned, danced in my office, surprised the hell out of my boss with how well I coped with everything. Lose my temper? Oh, I don't think so! Conclusion: I need a bottle of this in the worst way. I think this may have just replaced Ice Queen as my favorite bpal fragrance. It's just wonderfully peaceful and calming and full of serenity taken to the point of joy.

As an artist (and writer) the lure of the Leanan Sidhe was irresistable. I had to have this. HAD TO. In the Bottle: Astringent and herbal, with acquatic notes. It does rather smell like liquid soap. I weep for the future. Wet, on skin: It hits my skin and all is right in the world. It does not stay as liquid soap. Instead it's a green, leafy gentle and surprisingly low key fragrance, the sort of thing that you could wear almost anywhere without causing the slightest bit of offense. It smells very clean and fresh. Dry, on skin: The flowers come out a little, and it's light and airy, wonderfully ethereal, not deliberately deceptive the way that Unseelie was, but still a fantastic green and floral scent that I really love. Conclusion: There was a part of me that hoped Leanan Sidhe might be a substitute for Unseelie, but I can see that will not be the case. That in no way lessens my enjoyment of this delightful perfume, however.

I had some trepidation as reviews started to poor in, particularly when Aurelius mentioned that she'd had a reaction to Chaste Moon similar to Snow White -- meaning it had gone tropical and rather icky. In the Bottle: Butterscotch. Soft butterscotch, but the buttery note is unmistakable, and I'm unmistakably nervous about putting this on my skin. My previous experiences with butter in Beth's blends have not been good experiences, but I always tell myself that I can't judge the smell of a Black Phoenix perfume until I've worn it, so here it goes.... Wet, on skin: Yup, there's that immediate transformation that so many have mentioned. Butter? What butter? This is creamy, smooth, milky, with a hint of vanilla custard. This is a french creme custard in perfume form, creme brulee without the burnt sugar crust, with a sprig of fresh mint tucked into the top. It's smooth...so smooth. This is rather like what I'd hoped Snow White would smell like on me. If there is coconut in this (which I strongly suspect is the case) it doesn't feel like hitting me upside the head with it. Dry, on skin: As it dries, it becomes a gentle, soft and creamy floral, with faint gentle spice notes and the slight hint of baby powder. This is really lovely, and as everyone has commented, perfect for spring weather. In the Bottle: Gorgeous, soft, sweet. It's a clingy, snuggly sort of scent, that is better for cuddling and pampering than a hot date. It's very little girl with the pink and white gingham dress, showing off her new frilly, lacy petticoat. I like! Edit: And just like a little child, too much Chaste Moon gives mommy a headache. So...I have to remind myself that as much as I want to slather, Chaste Moon doesn't require or want to be so smothered.

To me it's a gentle vanilla with a little lemon in the background, and dries to a sweet warm vanilla musk. It reminds me a little of Dorian but without Dorian's sugary strength or tea notes. Since you have Tombstone, do try it out. I've found that on me, Tombstone is everything that I wanted Snake Oil to be, but which, alas, it was not with my own skin chemistry. Who knows? Perhaps it will behave the same way with you.

I would also recommend you try Zephyr, which is rather lovely, and more gentle and vanilla than you might expect. This other scents that you didn't try...did you actually obtain them and smell them, or are you predicting his reaction purely on the description?

The other big coffee scent that was just released is Miskatonic University. Edited because I can't spell correctly.

This was a freebie from the lab. It's not something I would have ever ordered for myself. I'm not sure why. I'd heard people go on about it, but it just never clicked as something I thought I would enjoy. The vial that Xiuhtecuhtli came in was cracked at the top, so I knew I would end up destroying the cap in the process of removing it. Fortunately I had decanting supplies with me, and was able to save 3/4 of the imp. In the Vial: Orange juice, with copal's resiny sweetness. Hmm...this smells very nice. Fresh and invigorating. Wet, on skin: Oh dear me. oh! Okay, if you don't like citrus, or copal, then perhaps you should run screaming, but if you do (like, say, me) then this is a dream scent. It's just glorious. Bright and fresh, with the sun streaming through flowers, the fresh juice of tropical fruits eaten on top of a gloriously golden pyramid. This is eyes rolling back into the head good. I just close my eyes and sniff my wrists and feel the most glorious sense of joy and peace. Dry, on skin: As Xiuhtecuhtli dries, the copal and incense comes out a little more, a creamy mellowing of the intitial orange juiciness that gives it a little more character and interest. It's very sweet and light and glowing, and it's just so lovely I can hardly stand it. Oh, this is SO good. Conclusion: I'm not sure if I'm reapplying so often because it doesn't have much staying power, or because I just can't enough of the fresh orange scent from the wet stages, but I find I'm slathering this. Do I need mention how badly I need a 5ml of this?

It may well be the John is your guy. There is a High John the Conquerer scent offered in the voodoo blends. You could try trading for a sample imp of it with another forum member and thus confirm if that is in fact the offending scent note.

Sadly, Kate, I can't. High John the Conquerer root is very much its own beast, and to me it's sort of the equivalent of asking "what does vanilla smell like?" Well, it smells like vanilla. Not much help, is it? I can tell you that it's a woody tuber, Ipomoea jalapa, member of the morning glory family and a relative of the sweet potato. One source on line gives this description: "Fresh John the Conqueror root has a unique, spicy fragrance, reminiscent of a combination of cherry-scented pipe tobacco, vetivert, cedarwood, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, and mace." Galangal is just as problematic. Galangal is a cooking herb, more more common in Asian cooking. The lesser variety is described as being "gingery and camphorous" and the greater variety as "sweet and sickly with pungeant undertones." Galangal is often used in Asian fish soups, and, you guessed it, in Asian perfumerie.

At Pookstrell's request, I'm reviewing this a little earlier than I'd planned. In the Vial: Strong lavender, sharped by bergamot, brightened by lemon zest. If I really concentrate, I can pick out a subtle hint of leather, but nothing more than a hint. This is a bright, sharp, cutting fragrance, full of rapier wit and cleverness. It strikes me as quite masculine, but we'll see how it is on skin. I applied a little on the back of my hand (as I put on Silk Road when I woke up this morning.) Wet, on skin: The scent mellows a little, becoming lavender, bergamot with a slightly stronger leather tone. No anise, tonka or patchouli or amber at this stage, but there are some notes swimming in the background that don't want to step forward and be identified. I'm struck by what an active fragrance this is. There's nothing lazy or sleepy about it. This scent is running, full out, jumping out windows and climbing the trellis to reach a lady's window. It's exhilerating, rather than soothing. Wow, what a great swashbuckler fragrance. Dry, on skin: Ah, there you are, Mr. Tonka Bean. How lovely see you again. And with Ms. Leather too. How sexy. Can we get a menoige a tres going with Mr. Patchouli? Or is he too shy? Ah, too shy. Such a shame. I guess he just like to watch. There is definately a leather-bound book smell going on here too, not so much a library as a rich man's parlor. At times the bergamot and lemon peel re-emerge, creating a tea-like scent that, of course, again harkens to comfortable parlors and books (thoroughly sexy books.) How on earth did Beth managed to encapsulate a biography in a perfume, anyway? Astounding. Conclusion: I was scared this would be too strong an anise scent, but it never really shows up in any meaningful way on me, which is a vast relief. The scent goes from sharp and pleasantly astringent in the beginning to warm, rich and sexy. It's complex, elegant, energetic, gorgeous. It's perfect. Must, must, must slather this on my Irish lad, who is my own personal swashbuckler. On the other hand, who says it's just for him? I am also sorely tempted to introduce Casanova to Dorian. I think they would get along. Oh yes. Maybe I can watch

Sheila has an excellent point....Vixen is double strong on patchouli, and specifically lists it as a note. You may wish to eschew a purchase of that particular fragrance.

I think all the following would be appropriate for summer: The Apothecary, Bathsheba, Dirty, the Lion (if you like amber), Shanghai, Kumiho, Absinthe, Van Van Oil, Whitechapel and Xiuhtecuhtli. I won't suggest Envy because the scent goes seriously wonky on me, but your mileage may vary.

As I love the poem dearly, I had to try this. Although straight notes aren't listed specifically, plants specifically mentioned that may possibly be present include: yew, myrtle, elm, cypress, cedar, osier, pine, tamarisk, willow, poplar, lotus, lime, pyracantha, poppy, purple amaranthus, mint and laurel. In the Vial: Smells green and herbal, although not unduly astringent or medicinal the way some green scents can go. I can smell a little cypress, some woodsy notes, what may in fact be lime (although a very light touch if it is.) Wet, on skin: Oh. My. God. I didn't expect it to smell. Wow. Not flowers, no, but the silky feel of smooth leaves gliding across your skin. This is so calm and satiny, green but gentle. The evocative sensation is standing under a willow tree at night, watching the fireflies dance in the night air from behind a veil of soft green. My boyfriend insisted on smelling my wrist this morning (as he does every morning as I ready for work) and he stopped thoughtfully at this one and declared it was truly beautiful. Dry, on skin: This is a gorgeous, sublimely blended fragrance. As it dries, the flowers peak out a little...soft dark flowers that are fortunately kept from being too soapy or cloying by the profusion of greenery and the lingering hint of lime. The whole fragrance is complex and elegant, stately, serene. There is peace here. Conclusion: As I was cash tight, I only bought an Imp. Ah, alas and alack. Now I'll have to go back and get a bottle. I have no idea how good a throw this has, as it smells fine with my wrist glued to my nose, and I'm not sure about the staying power, but I want to slather this. A lot.

Woah nelly! Leather! Yes, yes, you say, you KNOW that. Says so right in the description, but...wow...that's some serious leather, with no messing around with any namby pamby extras. It's so pure I think I'm mentally reclassifying this as a leather 'single note' rather than a perfume blend. I don't think I could wear this as a normal perfume (although one of my male friends gave a wink and a nod and said: "oh, you could wear it to a certain kind of party") but I think I'll keep as an accent, or for costume work. It IS cowboy in a bottle, that's for sure.

In the Bottle: Well, its definitely floral, although damned if I can tell what kind. It smells ever so slightly spicy, not a cinnamon spice, but something just hovering at the edges of it. It nags at me with the hint of recognition. I should know this smell, but I can't put any name or label to it. I'm a city girl though, and sometimes my ability to name floral smells are a bit lacking. It's almost a berry smell. This does, I should add, smell utterly gorgeous. It's not over the an top cloying floral, but soft and creamy and light, and yet, although I would normally associate those qualities with a white floral, this is warm and red. Wet, on skin: It's a little more obviously floral on my skin, with a woodsy undernote and soft musk. And here I start to get a little concerned, because my skin seems to be drinking this up. It doesn't have a lot of throw on me, nor a lot of longevity. The musky undernotes are lovely, but I would like it to last....maybe it's a time of the month thing. Dry, on skin: The Living Flame must have at least some real, honest florals, because when fully dry on me it goes a little soapy. Nothing unpleasant, thank God. Conclusion: This is really beautiful, soothing, warm, gentle, loving. There is nothing hard or cynical about this, nothing wanton or perverted. It is a lovesong in perfume, and I smile whenever I smell this. I suspect this may end up being one to put in the scent locket.

So I can wear vetiver, and I can wear civet, and I can even wear anise. But Black Annis has taught me I can't wear them all in the same perfume at the same time. It's a well blended scent, and I even liked it at times, but there was something about the combination of these three that created an 'off' note that nagged at me. I ended up not enjoying it, at all, and was rather glad when it faded.

Sometimes it's hard to review a scent. Sometimes that's because you hate it, and can't think of anything nice to say about it, and sometimes, like with Bathsheba, it's because you love it so much you have no clue how to describe it in a way that will do it justice. In the vial: Sweet, but not obnoxiously so. It's a little fruity, a little sweet, very creamy, smooth, lovely. This inspired a swoon response. Wet, on skin: This is a sexy, sweet, luxurious scent, and for something that in theory is relatively simple in composition, it’s almost impossibly beautiful. It’s very subtle too — not really a fragrance that I would expect to receive a lot of compliments about, as its power is almost subliminal. Dry, on skin:: Have I mentioned how pretty this is? As the plum dries down a bit, more of the carnation and Arabian musk come up, and they’re just gorgeous beyond all expectation. The musk is subtle, and although I can’t say for sure as I’m one of those people whose skin adores musk, I suspect that even people who aren’t normally musk fans might like this one. Conclusion: What can I say? It’s on my bottle list. It’s just beautiful, and I highly recommend it.

Cathode starts out minty. Undertow is supposed to have a strong mint component. Pain has a type of mint in it. Otherwise, try to find Frost Moon, and if you can't do that, some of the Black Broom Exclusive orisha oils are high on mint factor.

I personally found Machu Pichu to be very evocative of rainforest.

Well, according to others (Penance being one) Graveyard Dirt does smell wet, so...*shrug* I'm not the expert on these things. At least from the description, you may also want to give Nocnitsa a whirl.

err...umm... *sigh* I wish. Seriously. I adore Ice Queen, and I hoard her like mad. It would be fantastic if Lady of Shallot was her match to me. But...to me...no go. I love them both, but to me they smell nothing alike. Ah, the wonders of skin chemistry.

CCNow takes longer to actually pull the money from your account/credit card, as a general rule. Enterly besdes the fee factor, I find that rather frustrating.

Haven't tried Neo-Tokyo personally. I would second the suggestion of Villain. Now, most of the men who look through my box of perfumes inevitably stop and make "oooo!" faces whenever they get a hold of my bottle of Cathode. That being said, any girlfriends of said men also have a perfume that makes them stop with the "oooo!" expression, and then give coy, calculating looks at their man. And it isn't Cathode or Villain. It's Dorian.

There damn well better not be any cherry in Centzon Totochtin. I'm expecting a bottle of it this week. If it smells like cherry I will cry.

I received this an unexpected and very welcome gift from the lab. I've broken my review into two parts, the perfume review and what I've found out about Van Van as an occult oil. In the vial: I open the vial and am hit with the loveliest burst of sweet lemongrass and ginger. It's just gorgeous. Although I ended up not wearing Van Van for several days after receiving the imp, it may well have been one of the oils I was most excited about wearing. Wet, on skin: There is something slightly off about this as it hits my skin. The lightness of the lemon is cut with...something darker and little oily (which sounds odd since this is a perfume, but the only way I can discribe it.) It's almost like there's kerosene in this. Dry, on skin: It dries down to the most deliciously wonderful light fluffy lemon you can imagine. It's powdery, but a lemon powder, a fluffy airy concoction rather than baby powder. This is extremely pleasant. It has great throw, and the power of it lasted all day long. Conclusion: This is really lovely, and quite soothing. I think I need to order it in a 5ml size, because it's gorgeous. ____________ Notes on Van Van oil as a voodoo oil: I will preface this with my standard disclaimer of BPAL's Voodoo oils, which is I know nothing at all about hoodoo or voodoo, but every indication has been that the lab DOES. I have read a little bit on-line, and basically discovered enough to make a few basic assumptions on these oils. 1) Many of these oils are traditional, and thus you often encounter oils of the same name being sold all over, 2) the recipes for these oils are handed down from teacher to student, often orally, and can suffer all the "drift" you might therefore expect, 3) recipes for blends are often considered trade secrets. So am I likely to ever know exactly what Beth puts in Van Van oil? No, probably not. Van Van Oil seems to be one of the most basic of hoodoo/voodoo oils, very often used as a base for other oils blends. (It would not surprise me at all to discover the mysterious base oils that many people smell in Beth's voodoo blends are in fact Van Van oil.) It's supposed to purify, and like many voodoo oils, bring good luck and personal power. Van Van oil is the oil usually used to dress lucky mojo bags, and during the early part of the 20th century there was apparently a thriving business selling Van Van oil hair and beauty products to the African-American community of the South. I have found a few recipes for Van Van oil on-line, and in one case the ingredients listed are five grasses: Lemongrass, Citronella, Palmarosa, Vetivert (Khus Khus), and Gingergrass. And honestly, I think that may be very close to what I smell with this oil.