Macha

I received this as a freebie from the lab. It was the first fragrance from BPAL I've tried where I knew for a fact, and not just speculation, that civet was an ingredient. So I was curious. Debauchery seems to be a love or hate it fragrance, with a lot of folks mentioning that civet goes to cat pee or fecal matter on them. That's the sort of reaction I want to know about for the future. In the Vial: Thick musk, with several odors I can't identify for lack of familiarity. Rich, dark, very dark, and very strong. Yes, there is a slight tang to this that could almost be described as urine, but it's overwhelmed by the musk, and what I can only assume is opium. Wet, on skin: This is quite strong. Only a tiny bit was required to create a healthy throw. There's something in this that's ever so slightly disagreeable. It's not bad, per se, but it's very active, very in your face, very difficult to ignore. This is very much a hedonistic scent, very wicked and sinful. There is no pee smell though, and nothing even approaching that. Thank god. This scent is intimidating, and very appropriate for the Victorian Opium den of your choice, but there's nothing to it so disgusting that I have to wash it off me right away. So I don't have that reaction with civet. Nice to know. Dry, on skin: I love musks, and now that this is drying down to that predominantly, its become more tolerable, but no less debauched. This is truly a well-named scent. This scent reminds me quite a bit of De Sade. No, not the fragrance...the author. Specifically, 120 Days of Sodom. Real debauchery, without thought of consequences or victims: hedonism taken the level of capital crimes. This isn't any quaint perversion playing bondage games with safey words and no one ending up really hurt. Conclusion: This is so strong, blackly sexual and wicked it makes me flinch. Its too dark and sinister for me to find it sexy, and if there is something in there that appeals to me, there is as much I find vaguely repellent. I think I can pass on this one.

And I hear that Cats' homemade soaps are the...ahem...excuse me...the MEOW. No wonder you're so good at it, Cats. It's just a shame that you've HAD to be.

This was a gift from the Lab, certainly something I wouldn’t have ordered myself. Every time I go to Black Broom I smell this one in the vial, and every time I think to myself “Oh god no.” But I know that scents can change radically with body chemistry, and a lot of people seem to really love this one, so when the largesse crossed my way, I figured I’d give it a shot. In the vial: Sharp amber and honey. Wooh howdie, I am not liking the smell of Beth's honeys. I've always been a sage honey/milk honey kind of girl, and this honey is sharp, cloying and in your face. This is the same note I had such a violent reaction to in Samhain. Yeeouch. Wet, on skin: It immediately turns funky and fusty. This is the smell of sex all right, but not in a good way. This is isn't the fresh smell of active sex, but the old dried stuff on your sheets because you had a great all-nighter and forgot to wash them before you want on vacation. Ugh. I don't want to SMELL like that. My Irish lad gave the most negative reaction he's ever given to a scent, scrunching up his nose and saying "Oh Good Lord, I don't like that at all!" Clearly, 0 and my skin chemistry do not agree. Dry, on skin: The vanilla starts to come out as it dries, but it takes some time. I'm starting to be reminded of Kama Sutra Honey Dust, which would be great...except I never liked Kama Sutra Honey Dust. At least it does smell like old sex anymore. That's a huge improvement. Conclusion: None for me, thanks. From reading other reviews, I'm sure this scent is fantastic on some people, but I'm clearly not one of those.

I received this as a gift from the lab. In the vial: Lavender, with strong mint and the tiniest hint of lime. All right. Smells promising. Wet, on skin: Lavender? What Lavender? This is a tiny bit of mint and the overpowering smell of green sap, geranium, and possibly tomato vine. Green peppery plants. It's green, all right, but I can't say I'm particularly in love with this. Dry, on skin: As it dries the scent mellows, a little more of the lavender peaks its head back in, but neither the mint nor lime, both top notes, ever return. The green tomato vine/geranium scent hovers in the background and sticks its tongue out at me. Conclusion: This is potentially one of the shortest lived scents I've tried yet. I put this on before going to work, and by the time I reached work, it was gone. I reapplies, and an hour later -- it's gone. So it doesn't really last, and for half its short life, it doesn't smell particularly good to me. It's definately a green fragrance, and that might work for some, but clearly, I'm not one of those people. I think I'm envious.

Yes, it is a Black Broom exclusive scent, and as such has no official description. I saw a couple bottles last time I was up there. Babalu Aye is the Orisha who governs health, disease, illness and infirmities, both causes and cures. I would expect (though can by no means guarantee) that a perfume for Babalu Aye would include white wine, corn, popcorn, sesame seeds (possibly sesame seed candy), and various grains and seeds. But of course, those are just guesses based on the sort of offerings typically given to this divinity (caveat: according to my own web searches.) Edited because in the time it took me to write a reply, Tart had found the information!

I received this as a free imp from the lab with one of my orders and thought "ah ha! Perfect for Valentine's Day!" I was very surprised by the widely varying reviews of this, but I know from my own experience that it's extremely difficult to recognize what you're smelling without a kick in the right direction. I respect Beth's right to keep the ingredients of certain blends opaque, but sometimes it does make identification such a pain! In the vial: Hmm. Something in this smells familiar. I am definately catching a dark spiciness. Cinnamon? Not sure. There's a woodsy smell, tobacco, and maybe a bit of incense (I'm quite bad about identifying patchouli-type blends), all of it layered over the blackest of musks. It smells wickedly sexual. I like it very much. Wet, on skin: Oh, hey, there's that sharp cedar smell people describe, although I'm sure I've smelled this before...ah hah! Of course. This is very similar to Dracul. Not quite the same: no orange, no mint, no cumin, but I'd bet money that it's a dark musk with balsam/cedar and tobacco. Stroooong, but then, so is Dracul. There might even be leather in this, although its so strong, dark and well-blended that's its difficult for me to tell for certain. Dry, on skin: This fades into that gorgeous smokey, sexual note in Dracul that makes me want to tie my boyfriend to the wrought-iron bed and slice off his clothing with a pocket knife. This is leather and animal lust, spanking boards and rampant passion. This is love is not gentle, nor kind, nor pure. This love is war, and takes no prisoners. Conclusion: I found Dracul to be a flagrantly sexual blend, highly erotic and arrousing, and so it's no surprise to see these same notes here, and with that intended effect. It definately won't take the place of Dracul in my top ten, but if I ever find myself feeling that Dracul is a little too wishy-washy, I know just where to turn.

Along with Loviatar, she has become something of a Patron Goddess of all Dominatrixes, Wanda is the breathtakingly beautiful sable-wrapped marble queen of Sacher-Masoch's fantasies. Her scent is a deep red merlot with a faint hint of leather, sexual musk and body heat over crushed roses, violets and myrtle. Wanda was a freebie thrown in from a trade with a fellow forumite. I was very excited about it, since it was a scent that I've secretly been wanting to try, but just couldn't convince myself that I loved it enough to order in big bottle form. I read Venus in Furs (largely because of comments about it in the BPAL forums) and was pretty excited about any scent inspired by Wanda. In the vial: A strong wine scent, sweet, with a slight undercurrent of leather. Very nice. Once I would have sworn to you that I hated all alcoholic scents, but I've since discovered (much to my surprise) that I quite like the smell of wine in Beth's perfumes. Wet, on skin: And wooboy! is this wine smell true and strong! Wow. This isn't holding back or being coy. It's in your face, with a glass in hand, topping off every time you take a sip. Underneath that I can smell a faint floral and the scent of leather. This is really quite nice. Much stronger in the wine area than I expected, but very nice. Dry, on skin: Oh bloody hell. Its completely turned to rose, with a slight wine and leather chaser. Rose. Damnit. Is there Rose in this? I go back and check, and sure enough, there is. A minor note, but my skin loves to amplify rose, and now it's all I can smell. Rose, rose, rose. My boyfriend assures me that it's still very beautiful. I have my doubts. Conclusion: I don't know. I had a real knee-jerk reaction against this because of the explosion of rosiness, but I think this might also be the scent to get me off my "I hate rose" vibe. My Irish lad really seems to like it, and it is not a cloying rose. But if you've ever take a drink from a glass of Pepsi only to discover they've given you Root Beer, you know the sense of shock from not getting what you were expecting can kill your enjoyment. I think I'll have to hang on to the imp and try it again to see if perhaps I'll change my mind.

I realized that while this question was answered as part of a question someone asked in their introduction, it was never answered over here in the actual thread itself. I too went searching for a Michael-like scent. We went back and forth on this quite a bit, but in my opinion, the closest BPAL scent to Michael isn't a tuberose scent but a gardenia scent: Lady of Shalott. They're not twins, but certainly kissing cousins. I went out and ordered a 5ml bottle because of the similiarity.

A lot of fuss was made when this scent was first introduced, so I added an imp of it to the six pack I ordered for the Wolf Moon update. As I started to trying more scents, and as hype about this particular scent grew (not to mention Andrabell's highly evocative review), I decided to add a big bottle to my last order, even though I hadn't actually tried Dorian yet and didn't know if I'd like it. Am I impulsive or what? Oh, I'm so glad....SO glad.... In the vial: There's a store in Pasadena called the Bamboo Tea House that I go to every year on my birthday. They have an excellent vanilla black tea, thick and lush, and I'll admit that I occassionally like to splurge by making it strong and adding too much sugar. This smells exactly like that. The scent is so spot on perfect that it's swoon inducing. Wet, on skin: I put this on this morning before heading out to the bus, and of course, I ended up completely drenched in the rain storm, but even then I would catch frequent whisps of the most lusciously perfect sweet vanilla black tea. It put a smile on my face even as I was trying to leap over puddles and navigate the improptu rivers and lakes of various parking lots. Dry, on skin: As this dries, a little more of a fern-like scent (the fougere?) and the musks come into play, and they are wonderfully perfect. The tea never completely goes away though, and I keep getting little tosses of sweet tea, rather like a lover sneaking up on me to whisper in my ear. Gorgeous! Great throw, great staying power, and just beautiful. Conclusion: If Ice Queen didn't exist, this would be my #1 favorite BPAL, hands down. If Dorian was a man, I'd have a torrid affair with him (and no one else would ever know.) It's gloriously good, and for me the perfect vanilla tea perfume. This is one hell of a Midwinter's Eve present, Beth. Thank you for sharing it with us.

While I have purchased a number of the previous lunar oils from other forum members, Wolf Moon was the first one that I’d ordered directly from the lab. My boyfriend was so excited about its arrival that he met me at my bus stop with the bottle in his pocket, still bubble wrapped, so I didn’t have to wait until we walked home to smell it. In the bottle:It immediately reminds me of Hunter Moon, but with a less pronounced grape note. This is incredibly complex and rich, dark, subtle. It slinks. There's dark wet woodsy smell and a crisp minty coldness: the smell of haunted woods were sunlight has never reached the forest floor. It's not safe to be in these woods at night. It's not even safe to be here during the day. Wet, on skin: It's surprising how light this blend really is for something so evocatively dark. A stealthy sort of scent, approaching on soft paws. The wood note is dominant at first, reminding me very much of the dry down of Hunter Moon. It reminds me a little of Dublin too, although the woods in Dublin are a much happier and mist-soaked place. Outstandingly beautiful. Dry, on skin: As the scent fades, that lovely musk and a soft herby floral come to the front. I suppose if you spend enough time in those dark woods, you may start to notice its beauty: small flowers tucked away in the sheltering roots of ancient trees. Just as Dublin is to me a walk in the misty woods during the day, Wolf Moon is a stroll through a less benign section of forest at night. It is indeed primeval and dark, silent as a forest that has yet to know the hard hand of man. In Tolkien terms, this is the scent of Fangor Forest. Conclusion: Humorously, just as Penance and I disagreed on whether or not Dublin smells like Skadi, we disagree here too. I don't think Wolf Moon smells anything like Skadi, but to be fair I can see how a different nose might beg to disagree. I found it to be incredibly beautiful, soft...and deceptively dangerous. How perfect.

I should start out by mentioning that my experience with voodoo (and naturally, voodoo oils) is pretty much limited to what I've researched since discovering BPAL. So experience = 0. Additionally it seems that each practitioner has their own particular recipe, their own take on the formula, and that these don't always agree. Also, there's a significant amount of competition amongst practioners to protect their secret recipes. So...it doesn't seem likely I'm ever going to know exactly what is in this, particularly since it seems like this is actually a proprietary recipe that Beth has created herself (i.e. I haven't been able to find a "Lucky #20" for sale anywhere else, although the #20 is a number that pops up in a number of places that sell, or claim to sell, traditional voodoo recipes.) Well, okay then. I'm going to depart from my normal format for this oil and simply say that it smells like an overwhelmingly strong tuberose to me (I didn't get jasmine at all, but my sense of smell is still in training), with an herby/green/peppery undertone, and has significant throw. I had to be very, very careful not to put on too much, which would be an instant invitation to floral headache city. It lasted about 2 hours on my skin, before fading to something I have to press nose to skin to smell at all. Beautiful? err...Yes? Sort of? Interesting, in any event. It's a thick, syrupy fragrance that refuses to be ignored. It's VERY green underneath in a way that makes me think of geraniums. It is everything good and everything bad in gardenia/tuberose scents. If you want to use this as a perfume oil and you don't like the smell of gardenia or tuberose, this is not for you. In fact, you should run screaming, or keep it only for ceremonial uses. I've haven't played with using it as a room scent, but I don't doubt it's just as potent. But what the bloody hell is IN it? I find I'm fascinated by this....I'll post back if I find anything out.

Yesterday I noticed my review for this was inexplicably lost. No one really knows what happened, so I'm going to have to try to recreate my view. I'm a bit pouty about this, since I don't usually save reviews on my own computer. Ah well. I swapped for this from another forum member, rather on a whim because of some lovely reviews. In the bottle: Red wine with flowers and a smoky undercurrent. I don't smell chocolate at all! *sniff* How disappointing. I've been on a chocolate kick lately. Well, despite that fact, this is quite lovely. And who knows how it will react on the skin? I've seen (smelt?) some strange things happen when chemistry kicks into high gear. Wet, on skin: The wine note stays very true. Now, I'll admit, that since I don't drink (and when I did drink, I was not a wine connoisseur) I expected that I wouldn't like wine notes in my perfume oils. Hunter Moon was my first indication that I might be mistaken about that, and Dia De Los Muertos is driving the point home. I LOVE wine scents. Who would have ever believed it? There is something else going on here too though, a sharpness that I can't quite put my finger on, but it seems familiar. Dry, on skin: Oh, there's the chocolate! Only it's not chocolate, it's cocoa, dusted on top of the wine. The flowers and smoke stay to the background, content to let me enjoy my cocoa laced with wine. There's still a sharpness though....oh. Okay, yeah, I do know that scent. That's blood. I went back and checked the description. Dia De Los Muertos isn't supposed to contain anything that smells like blood. Yet...it does. Blood, red wine and chocolate, served on a table with flowers and a bit of smoke straying in from the fireplace. As it ages, it mellows a little bit and the flowers peak out a bit, but it basically stays this way through whole way, with excellent throw and staying power. Conclusion: Since I've never gone to any of the Day of the Dead celebrations in LA, I don't have that connotation here. Instead, this is the most "vampire" perfume I've ever experienced: decadent, jaded and bloody as sin. If I played in a vampire LARP, this would be the only perfume I could possibly wear. It's beautiful, complex, completely hedonistic and corrupt. Needless to say, I love it.

I went to Black Broom to help a friend pick out a perfume for his wife for Valentine's Day, and while there, see if they had a bottle of Yemaya for a fellow forum member. While I was there I noticed that they had one bottle of Aunt Caroline's Money Draw left, but not with a tester. Now, a couple of the times I've been down there, the staff have always been very good about letting me open bottles that didn't have testers, but today there was a new girl there, and she was clearly uncomfortable with the idea since it was her second day. Thus, I ended up buying this unsniffed. As soon as I left the store of course, I opened up the bottle and slathered. (Since I don't practice ritual magic, this will never be used to dress a candle or the like.) In the bottle: Spicy orange, with another citrus note (I can't tell by smell, but it may well be lemongrass since I've been told Van Van oil is a common starting point for voodoo oils) and as a pull away, the faintest mint note. I suddenly feel very good about this purchase. Very good indeed. Wet, on skin: The spicy orange smell stays for only the briefest few minutes, and then the entire scent blooms into the most delectable sweet cinnamon imaginable. This is red-hot candy cinnamon, rather than cooking Ceylon cinnamon, with just enough complexity of other spices and orange in the background to keep this from being simple. Dry, on skin: The scent fades, but with excellent staying power, and it's really incredibly beautiful. Something that smells very much like one of Beth's musk bouquets comes up as the scent dries, which I adore. If it's possible to have a "clean" spiciness, this is it. It's quite invigorating, clean and just dripping with cinnamon love. Conclusion: THIS is the cinnamon scent I've been looking for. Three Witches is nice, but after a while turns to clove on me (not that such a bad thing). This stays true cinnamon, spicy and wonderful. Its properties as a ritual oil may be most efficacious, but as perfume oil, it does its job with equal skill. It's no chore to wear this perfume. No, no, not at all. In fact, this may end up being my new favorite. It's one of the most beautiful spice blends I've encountered yet. Edit: I've since discovered that, well yes, as a matter of fact cinnamon IS traditionally used in voodoo oils to draw money. Color me unsurprised to find it here!

I ordered an imp of this from the lab, figuring I like green tea, I like lemon verbena and I like honeysuckle, so what could go wrong? Famous last words of course, since I'd just come away from that inexplicably horrible encounter with Chimera, a perfume I should have loved and did not. I approached Shanghai with a little caution. In the vial: Oooh. That's quite nice. Lightly sweetened green tea with a bit of lemon. Uncomplicated and very, very soothing. Wet, on skin: The green tea is gorgeous, and works beautifully with the smell of honeysuckle. This smells incredible! Oh sweet Mother! My boyfriend smelled this on my wrist when I readied for work this morning, and though he was still half asleep his eyes lit up and he said "oooh! I REALLY like that one!" Dry, on skin: Calming, soothing, gorgeously light and energizing. Very much a 'spa' scent, so fresh and clean. It doesn't last nearly long enough, but I'm not surprised considering the citrus note. This is a perfume that makes you feel better just smelling it. It's not sexy, not sensual, just light and lovely perfection. Conclusion: You can pry Shanghai out of my cold, dead hands. I am so desperately in love with this fragrance. It's just simple and gorgeous and I NEED a bigger bottle so I can really slather this on. As it is, there is the very real danger that my imp will run out before I can place an order.

B-Pal

I haven't tried it personally, but perhaps Sea of Glass? Hurricane is also quite aquatic, if in a smell of the storm sort of way. If strong with ozone, so don't even bother if you don't like scents with ozone components.

Faustus sounded intriguing, and I like cinnamon scents, so I ordered an imp of the stuff from the lab. In the bottle: What an incredibly dark, spicy smell. Strong violets, mixed with the spiciness of cinnamon. I can't smell the frankincense. It smells very astringent and medicinal. Wet, on skin: I put this on and immediately wonder if I've made a mistake. This is such an overpoweringly masculine smell, so dark and sharp and spicy, that I can't see me wearing it. It's almost medicinally pungent, overpowering and in-your-face. A hell of a throw, and dark as sin. There is something about this scent that is unabashedly corrupt, and my initial impression is to say it's not for me. My boyfriend, on the other hand, immediately says he likes it. Dry, on skin: Like a perversion that shocks at first, then titillates and finally arouses, Faustus is beginning to seduce me. The violets crumble into powdery sweetness and the cinnamon becomes a warm glow of dying embers upon which the frankincense burns softly. This is really quite beautiful, if extraordinarily masculine and dark. Conclusion: I bet this would smell amazing on my boyfriend, so I will have to arrange that. A powerful scent, a forceful scent, but a scent that is definitely wrestling with its demons. It's just a little too much for me, although I could get used to that lovely dry-down stage.

Hurricane was one of the scents that my boyfriend wanted to buy from Black Broom, but since they were out, we placed an order from the lab. In the bottle: Salty, aquatic ozone. It very much smells like a storm, like rain. Wet, on skin: Oh, this is a strong tangy ozone, but with a sweet dark undercurrent. If you don't like ozone, I can imagine this scent would be a horror, but I find it lovely and very beautiful. There is a certain slight sense of storm-tossed decay, rotted wood, but I think it in no way diminishes the appeal of this fragrance. Dry, on skin: As the ozone dries, the sweetness becomes more pronounced, until it does indeed smell like China Rain. It feels as though the storm has passed and while the sun is not visible, the clouds are light and fluffy. This is not a beautiful fragrance, but it is a strong fragrance, powerful and stormy. Conclusion: Southern California isn't necessarily known for our stormy weather, but when it does rain, it doesn't mess around. This is very much the smell of the worst of the rainy season, when the storms crash giant waves along the coast and make the underwriters frown at the houses along the beach in Malibu. Anyone who has gone walking along the beach after such a storm, when the driftwood has been pushed up far far up on to the strand, knows this smell. Beth captured it perfectly.

I whined and whined for a bottle of this. My birthday this year fell within the 3-day full moon cycle of the Cold Moon, and in some strange way that made me "entitled." (Don't ask me to explain the logic.) Someone was kind enough to sell me a bottle at cost, for which I am extraordinarily grateful. It would have haunted me to have missed this. In the bottle: Clear, aquatic, cold, with a hint of white flowers. It's difficult to stop myself from making comparisons to Ice Queen or Queen of Diamonds, both chilly white scents, but this smells softer and gentler than either of those. Wet, on skin: I'm trying not to make comparisons, but...ah, hell with it. Ice Queen smells glacial, sharp and regal. This still smells cold, but it is softer, more flowery, and much greener. A walk through a garden of magical flowers peaking up above beds of winter snow (where as the only flowers in Ice Queen's garden are ice sculptures.) I can smell the greenness of the ferns and....and...no...no..NO DON'T YOU DARE TURN TO SOAP ON ME!! *screams, tackles Cold Moon, wrestles it to the ground and starts beating on it* NO SOAP! NO SOAP!! Dry, on skin: Whew. That was a close one. Cold Moon started to go soapy on me, but after a half-hour, changed its mind and stayed as one of the most beautiful cold florals I've ever encountered. This a frail, delicate blend, as fragile and beautiful as snowflakes on lilies. Pure magic. Conclusion: I really love Beth's icy blends. She has an extraordinary talent for them, and the fact that this is a gorgeous icy floral makes it all the more special.

This is one of the first Black Phoenix perfumes I smelled from the sample vials at Black Broom, the one that gave both my boyfriend and I the strongest "oooooh!" response, and of course, the one that was out of stock. We placed an immediate order for a 5ml bottle, just based on what it smelled like in the bottle and waited on pins and needles until its arrival. In the bottle: Warm, dry and spicy. Sandalwood and cinnamon (of the cassia variety) with a gently wafting musk. A subtle, warm spiciness. Wet, on skin: I am tempted to yell out "Sarada, I found your headshop!" but I realize that's not quite right. This doesn't smell like a headshop. It smells like a Moroccan furniture store. It smells like the kitchen of the Lebanese restaurant where I used to hang out as a child. Dry and spicy, filled with so many herbs and spices that the smell has saturated every single piece of wood, every tapestry, yet not particularly overpowering because all the odors have faded with time. I could well imagine a souk smelling like this. (You want to buy this kilim, yes? Look at the fine weaving! My daughters wove this. For you, special price!) Dry, on skin: The scent stays true, but calms and lets the musk have its lead. The more I wear this, the more I am reminded of deserts and dry winds. I can smell freshly ground cumin, which is delightful. I'm very surprised by how unobtrusive this scent is on me. It's not that my skin is absorbing it, but rather that it seems to blanket me and cling. It slides under the awareness. Conclusion: Beautiful! I know many comparisons have been made between Morocco and Snake Oil, but to me they could hardly be more different. Morocco has none of Snake Oil's vanilla sweetness, and Snake Oil's spice notes are less distinctly identifiable to my nose. Most of all, Snake Oil is a sex-scent to me, a scent for the bedroom, for the Hareem. Morocco is...dry, dusty, full of haggling and the wafting odor of food. Not sexy, but confident and secretive. It does not try to be beautiful. It doesn't pretty itself up for you or feel that it should need to, but make no mistake: Morocco is gorgeous.

Someone commented recently that the problem with so many of the BPAL scents is that one grows tired of using the words "unique," "different," and "holymolyhowdoesBethDOthat?" Indeed, that is becoming a problem for me, as everything I think a Black Phoenix scent couldn't possibly surprise me, it does just that, with interest. I received an imp of this as a gift with my last order, which is cool: it allows me to go straight to the ordering of a big bottle without any doubt as to whether or not I'll like the fragrance itself. In the Imp: Sweet, but not cloyingly so. Fruity, with a definite mango smoothness. Wet, on skin: Oh, it's rather hard to describe this, except to say that the red musk is lovely and rich, the amber sweetens without overpowering, and the mango, sage and lavender notes frolic and play around the sides. Dry, on skin: The scent mellows and matured, but loses none of its playfulness. This is really a very joyful, happy scent, without being cutsie or girlish. The red musk is never morbid, and all the ingredients work well together. It dries to a lovely finish of musk and amber that is extremely beautiful. Conclusion: This is a lovely fragrance with excellent staying power, good throw and undeniable appeal. My sister owns miniature donkeys, so I would have ordered it eventually but I think I can safely speed up the time table on a big bottle for her as a present.

I ordered this imp with the greatest of expectations. I've done pretty good with my orders so far. I hear tales of people ordering eighteen imps and only liking one, maybe two. I've been pretty lucky, or maybe I just have a better understanding of what I do and don't like. I was pretty certain Chimera would be a hit. I love cinnamon. I love honeysuckle. I love myrrh. I love copal. What could possibly be bad about this fragrance? In the bottle: This smells like cinnamon, but not a particular sharp or spicy cinnamon. The myrrh softens the edge a bit. It's sweeter than I expected. Much sweeter. It's not a desert sweetness either, but a floral sweetness. I don't smell the copal at all. Wet, on skin: Remember that scene from Auntie Mame (the movie) where Mame (Rosalind Russell) is visiting the future in-laws of her nephew Dennis? They serve her rum daiquiris made with loads of honey, and when she takes a sip she scrunches up her face and tries to say something nice: "It's so....sweet." That's how I feel about this. I honestly hadn't expected it to be anywhere near this cloying. This is the first fragrance I've tried with honeysuckle, and I'm starting to suspect my skin LOVES honeysuckle. Dry, on skin: It would not be accurate to say that my skin has amplified the honeysuckle scent and left cinnamon, myrrh and copal behind. Rather, this scent has become a true chimera, neither goat, snake or lion, but a bizarre combination of all. I can at least acknowledge the artistry of the blend, for while I can recognize the influences, I can't really say it smells like cinnamon anymore than I can say it smells like honeysuckle. It smells like chimera. Conclusion: I may try this again one day, but I didn't really care for it. I never thought I'd say that about a cinnamon scent, but there it is. I think I'll blame my body chemistry, because empirically it is still sound like a a beautiful combination of scent notes.

When I was deciding my first actual BPAL order from the lab (rather than a trip to Black Broom) I did some searches for notes that I like: gardenia, ginger. Lady of Shalott was one of the ones that came up, so I wasted no time adding an imp for it to my order. Besides, I always loved the Loreena McKinnett song. Wet, in the vial: Gardenia, but pale and wet, with a crispness at the back and other notes hard to identify. My boyfriend is much impressed with the smell of the imp and agreed that ordering more had to happen and soon. There's a green peppery sharpness laying under the flowers, like smelling water lily and bit of broken stem at the same time. Wet, on skin: Oh my god, this is beautiful. It's wet and clear and sweet and it wraps around me like floating in cool water on a hot summer day. The smell is at once salty and sweet and herby and floral and beyond lovely. Also, a little hard to describe. Dry, on skin: As it dries a little more of the musk comes up, but it's one of Beth's white musks, which are gorgeous creations that make me want to glue my nose to my wrist. The ginger is there, and the lily, but it all blends harmoneously. The scent wafts throughout the day: it flows and ebbs like water in a stream. Conclusion: Prior to finding BPAL, one of my favorite perfumes was Michael by Michael Kors. This isn't a replacement for that fragrance, but loving the first, I cannot help but love this. It's truly a beautiful fragrance, languid and unhurried, floating and ethereal. Do I even need mention I ordered a 5ml?

Ah, Nyarlathotep! My boyfriend and I are both Lovecraft fans. Indeed, the main reason he became interested in BPAL was because they had this fragrance. So we ended up ordering a 5ml of it, untested. In the bottle: Strong, dark incense, a citrus note, and the brief flash of ozone. Interesting. Wet, on skin: The lemon takes center stage for a while. I have a bit of trepidation, as the last lemon scent I tried turned to Pledge on me, but the incense will not allow that to happen with this lemon. I don't smell any bergamot (which someone else mentioned) just the smell of lemon juice, frankincense and myrrh. I find myself think of someone sitting down and writing symbols on paper with lemon juice, so that it dries invisibly and can only be revealed by fire. Dry, on skin: The lemon doesn't fade to complete invisibility, but it does step back like the sun ducking behind clouds. Dark rolling incense and the faint tang of storms fills the air, and it's really quite lovely to have such a palatably evocative feeling from the scent. The ozone and incense work together better than I would have expected. The incense is dark, so much so that it flirts with the chocolate-like richness I adore. The ozone and citrus never let the scent fall too far though, and give it a bit of chaos and edge. The power of suggestion is a wonderful thing of course, but I couldn't help but feel that this perfume inspires a certain sort of calculation, and even has a certain Machiavellian air to it. Conclusion: I really enjoyed this. This perfume didn't make me feel sexy or beautiful. It made me feel smart -- cunning. I found Nyarlathotep to be an invigorating, empowering scent that I would absolutely wear again, particularly if I wanted to feel powerful, calculating and manipulative.

I knew I had to buy this. First, because its primary note is cinnamon and because my sweet Irish boy loves cinnamon on a level that most people can only glimpse from afar and shake their heads at. His love is pure and true. He loves cinnamon in candy, in cooking, in smell. He puts cinnamon red-hots in his soda. He eats cinnamon altoids. He loves cinnamon. If cinnamon were a girl, I'd be dumped in a heartbeat. And second, because, well, I rather like the smell of cinnamon myself, even if I'm not so fond of cinnamon candy. We both smelled this fragrance at Black Broom, but they were (understandably) out, so it's been the long wait until we could have a bottle of it for our very own. It should be no surprise that it was the very first thing I slathered on when my order from the lab arrived. In bottle: Cinnamon? Did I mention cinnamon? There's a little of pepper's hotness and the edginess of clove, but these are really secondary to that lush cinnamon scent. As several others have mentioned, it's not a red-hots cinnamon, but a cooking cinnamon stick smell. I would even go so far to say that this is not the smell of that variety of cinnamon we buy in the stores here in America called Cassia (used because it is more pungeant and thus has a longer effective shelf life) but Ceylon Cinnamon, which is more complex and fragrant and more of an old fashioned cinnamon smell. Wet, on skin: The cinnamon is indeed strongest, but has an edge given to it by clove and pepper. The oil never burned (nice to know I don't have any particular sensitivity there) and has a good throw. This is very nice. A little embarassing though, as my boyfriend kept trying to eat my wrist. Dry, on skin: The other two witches, clearly feeling they're being left out of things, decide to make their play. The scent morphs, and it's no longer Cinnamon and her two back-up cohorts, but Clove and her two back-up singers (now playing in the Macbeth room. They'll be here all week!) I can still smell cinnamon and pepper, but the clove smell is unmistakably predominant. I don't mind this development, actually, and it harkens me back to when I too was a teenage goth and the clove cigarettes that everyone smoked at the local dance club. (Ah, but it wasn't easy to be a teenage goth in MY day. We didn't have your convenient Hot Topics chain stores, Manic Panic hair dye or your fancy schmancy e-bay...no....in my day if we wanted to look like a refugee from a Charles Addams cartoon we raided thrift stores and dyed it all black with RIT and we were PROUD. Ahem. Sorry about that...) The scent fades pleasantly and had decent longevity on my skin. Conclusion: Do I even need to add I bought a 10ml bottle of this? No regrets, either. After a day of wearing this my boyfriend looked at me and quite earnestly said: "You know, you don't need to buy any other perfume. If you wore this every day I'd be perfectly happy." He knows I'm not going to do that, but it's nice to know that he will always appreciate this particular scent. It also makes a really lovely room scent.