Macha

In December, the skeletal, ice-rimmed fingers of winter take hold, and the nights are long, chill and dark. The first flurries of snow touch the land, and the earth itself becomes quiet. A scent of purity and silence, soft with falling snow, as dark as Midwinter: an icy flurry over the winter blooms of narcissus, pansy crocus, dahlia, tulip, chrysanthemum and white rose, with a hint of fir and birch. So I opened this bottle up and thought, "Ice Queen?" Boy, it sure does seem to be a perfect dupe in the bottle ”” so much so that I initially was unsure. I mean, Beth's come out with a few fragrances this year of the "chilly" and "icy" variety, and I was reasonably confident that my frosty needs had been more than adequately fulfilled by Talvikuu, Snow Bunny and well...Ice Queen. I apply some of the oil, and sure enough: Ice Queen. It's that same frozen scent, closer than anything else I've tried this season. This stage lasts for about five seconds on me, and then ”” as if the Ice Queen herself was drawing back a fluffy white curtain to reveal the true scent of Snow Moon ”” the perfume changes utterly. I was actually smelling my wrist as the scent changed and turned from glacial ice to the blooming of winter flowers and the smell of trees still covered in snow. The smell of birch, that woodsy, rich bark smell, and the various flowers creates this incredible aroma ”” not a pine forest in winter, but a deciduous forest ”” dark, chill but so vibrantly alive. It's very clean, woodsy, not at all "piney." This seems more a winter cousin of Dublin or Whippoorwill than Talvikuu. It's calm, serene, and stunningly beautiful. I am SO glad I have two bottles of this! I was worried it would be redundant, but in fact, this is completely unique and compelling, and nothing like the other winter scents released this Yule. I am completely in love with this.

A tribute to the opium den cum bawdyhouses of Shanghai in the 1930's. Golden amber, blonde tobacco, Sudanese black coconut, rich caramel, black currant, white opium and delphinium laced with a sensual blend of Asian spice. I'm reviewing VERY early, just so people can have a chance to make a decision on this while it's still possible to do something about it. In the bottle: sweet ”” the caramel is a much stronger primary note than I would have expected. There is also a faint hint of what I would think was a sweet orange blossom. On skin, wet: Oh goodness. Yeah, this IS the stuff. The sweetness dies off almost immediately, leaving a haze of amber layered over spice and a gentle tobacco (which to my nose ends up smelling like really good incense rather than tobacco.) There's something slightly astringent, but it's not unpleasant. Red Lantern is passing the first test, which is that I have my wrist glued to my nose while I inhale deeply (let me tell you, that makes it hard to type.) This is a hard scent to review honestly. It's difficult to verbalize why I love it so much, except to say, you know "it's pretty." What the hell: it's pretty! Update: 4 hours later, this has turned into a slightly sweet and very exotic incense. Gorgeous.

From childhood's hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen As others saw; I could not bring My passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken My sorrow; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved, I loved alone. Then - in my childhood, in the dawn Of a most stormy life - was drawn From every depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still: From the torrent, or the fountain, From the red cliff of the mountain, From the sun that round me rolled In its autumn tint of gold, From the lightning in the sky As it passed me flying by, From the thunder and the storm, And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view. A hectic, frenzied pinpoint in desolation: booming, bleak, and dark with the horror of loneliness and reluctant solitude. Patchouli and cardamom with bright mandarin, labdanum, muguet, red sandalwood, angelica and gardenia. Label: In the bottle: Soft patchouli and a mellow earthiness. There are other notes dancing in the background, but they seem just out of reach, teasingly so. Wet, on skin: The patchouli is predominant, strong, even harsh, and it very much smells of wet earth and woods, long walks in isolation through wet wilderness. I don't really smell plants per se: this is all cliffs and wet chalk canyons, loamy soil and staring out over emptiness. Dry, on skin: A certain spiciness, undoubtedly the cardamom, starts to peak up its head, although it's not overwhelming. There is something, again, peaking out of the background, never easy to see -- wildflowers in the desert, the shape of a demon in the clouds. It's all subtle, subdued, isolated, but I can't help but feel that the end of this journey is an uplifting sort of place. Conclusion: This is really beautiful, and in my opinion definitely one of Beth's scent journeys (where the evolution of the order goes through different, wonderfully evocative stages.) I think I really like this, but I wonder how much MORE I'll like it if I let it age for a bit. I think this is a fragrance that will only grow better if given time.

In October, the crop harvest has past, and all hands turn to the Hunt: the third and final harvest before winter. Blood Moon shines over huntsmen as they ride over reaped grain in pursuit of their prey. In Christian mythology, Blood Moon may have a darker significance: "And I looked when He broke the sixth seal, and there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth made of hair, and the whole moon became like blood; and the stars of the sky fell to the earth, as a fig tree casts its unripe figs when shaken by a great wind." -- Revelation 6:12-13 The feral scent of the heat of the chase, deep woods, undulating musks, brushed by forest herbs, crushed grains, and touched by blood-dimmed lunar oils. Some months ago, I attended a BPAL class on aphrodisiacs, and one of the ingredients that we were given and allowed to take home was chopped pieces of red sandalwood. That is the first thing that I really notice when this hits my skin: the strongly redolent odor of red sandalwood, although, on further contemplation, it is not alone: there are spices here too (close mayhaps? cinnamon?) As the oil sits on my skin, these spices really begin to shine through, and I also start to catch the first hint of musk and vanilla. This becomes stronger as it dries: a wonderful, deep combination of musk, sandalwood, spices and vanilla/tonka. It is very sensual, very sexy, highly evocative. If there is dragon's blood in this, it's so well blended that with my chemistry its presence is negligible. It dries down to the loveliest soft, sexy vanilla musk with sandalwood occasionally popping up to say hello. And I have to add: I shrieked when I saw the bottle, because the Lab used the artwork from the shirt! Not a huge deal perhaps, but I wasn't expecting it and they hadn't even HINTED they were doing it: I was grinning my silly little head off for about two hours afterwards.

Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll! - a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river; And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear? - weep now or nevermore! See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore! Come! let the burial rite be read - the funeral song be sung! - An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young - A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young. "Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride, And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her - that she died! How shall the ritual, then, be read? - the requiem how be sung By you - by yours, the evil eye, - by yours, the slanderous tongue That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?" Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong. The sweet Lenore hath "gone before," with Hope, that flew beside, Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride. For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies, The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes The life still there, upon her hair - the death upon her eyes. "Avaunt! avaunt! from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven - From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven - From grief and groan, to a golden throne, beside the King of Heaven! Let no bell toll, then, - lest her soul, amid its hallowed mirth, Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damned Earth! And I! - to-night my heart is light! - no dirge will I upraise, But waft the angel on her flight with a Paean of old days!" A dark and bellicose scent that speaks of loss, lament, bitterness and breast-beating woe: thick black vetiver, sharp white musk and lemon peel, smoke and saffron, patchouli, thyme and black plum. Label: Ah, how lovely ”” but dark, ever so dark. This is thick, brooding, black: the vetiver and patchouli are strong with my chemistry, with an herbal edge from the thyme and layered all over with the waft of smoke. I didn't pick up any of the lighter notes: the lemon peel, saffron or plum. No, that might have given this a happier air, and on me this perfume is full of tragedy and waste. This is the scent off the fresh grave, the tomb not yet sealed, the funereal pyre cooled to ash, the guilty conscience. It's not unpleasant, just as there can be a certain release in wallowing in melancholy and the macabre, but it certainly is as black as night and strong as death. Ah, definitely the scent to wear while committing poetry.

A celebration of three years of decadence, determination, death and rebirth. Red musk, tonka, Chinese cassia, mandarin, patchouli, benzoin, wild plum and tobacco. When I stopped by the lab yesterday, Sara pushed a bottle of this into my hands almost before I was finished walking through the door. I do believe she wanted me to see the label, which is lovely (and I'm not saying that because it features the logo I designed for BPAL...okay, I'm not JUST saying it because of that. ) However, you can't really expect me not to squeal like a schoolgirl and try some on, right? Right? In the bottle: A gorgeous blend of spice, of which I can distinctly pick out cassia cinnamon and tobacco. This made me very excited. Wet, on skin: Tobacco, a little fruitiness from the plum, and strong cassia chasing it all down. The patchouli quickly asserts itself, but ah, that cassia! Gorgeous! I never realized that cinnamon and patchouli could smell so amazing together (okay, I know cassia isn't exactly the same as cinnamon, but my American nose has been sold cassia as a substitute for cinnamon for so long it can't tell the difference anymore.) It never really lets this become an "all patchouli" blend (and I've been amping patchouli lately like crazy...don't know what's up with that.) Spicy, earthy, sexy...do I need to mention this is extraordinarily sexy? Dry, on skin: The red musk is more subtle than I'd expected it to be. It's very faint, even at this stage, letting the tonka and benzoin play center stage. I'm not sure what the throw is like (now that would require removing my nose from my wrist, wouldn't it?) but this is just wonderful. Conclusion: I'm not sure if bottles of this will be on sale at Will Call tomorrow, but if they are...grab one. If you like spicy oriental blends, you won't want to have missed this.

Purge, purify, cleanse. I was recently overjoyed to be gifted with an early sample of this Panacea. Sniffing the bottle, I'm hit with an olfactory splash of the freshest, brightest lime. It's light and glowing and I could well imagine that if I were hung over my eyes would widen a little and I'd feel much better. I know there's more going on there than just lime, but it is the scent I pick out the strongest, and the supporting cast is fantasically well blended. Clearly I'm just going to have to wear this a lot more to figure out exactly what's going on. ;-) There was virtually no change from the bottle to my skin, but unfortunately my skin chemistry ate this pretty quickly. I'm going to have to break out the scent locket and tart warmer, but it's well worth sustaining. Before it faded, Detox was a comforting, clean citrus, a not-too-sharp lime that made me feel refreshed and awake. I'm not real prone to going out on late night splurges, but you better believe that this is the stuff I'd reach for the next morning if I did. Fantastic stuff!!!

'Twas noontide of summer, And mid-time of night; And stars, in their orbits, Shone pale, thro' the light Of the brighter, cold moon, 'Mid planets her slaves, Herself in the Heavens, Her beam on the waves. I gazed awhile On her cold smile; Too cold - too cold for me - There pass'd, as a shroud, A fleecy cloud, And I turned away to thee, Proud Evening Star, In thy glory afar, And dearer thy beam shall be; For joy to my heart Is the proud part Thou bearest in Heaven at night, And more I admire Thy distant fire, Than that colder, lowly light. A chill, crystalline nocturnal perfume: moonflower with oriental poppy, fairy lily, orris and night gladiolus. Label: In the bottle: Oh yes! YES! Err...sorry, excuse me. I let myself get a little carried away there. This smells very nice though, so I'm sure you can forgive me, yes? Ah, it's such a light, beautiful scent in the bottle, very much a night-time fragrance. Oh, such a gorgeous floral. Wet, on skin: Even more gorgeous, because it hits my skin and does NOT morph into something hideous. Rather, I feel this a serene fragrance, and yes, very much chill, very much crystalline, very much beautiful. I think someone who doesn't normally love floral scents might still adore this. Dry, on skin: It deepens, but never becomes cloying, never becomes over-the top. This fragrance is sophisticated without being gauche, mature without being stale, elegant without being boring. It is very much amazing. It doesn't seem to have a terrible strong throw, but there are times when I frankly don't want my neighbors smelling me. Conclusion: Just beautiful.

A modern incarnation of the Queen of Pentacles, or Disks, the Queen of the Thrones of Earth. Nurturing, warm and kind, she is practical, quiet and domesticated, and yet still ambitious, and possessed of the sensual lushness of Mother Earth. Soft, deep earth notes with myrrh, amber, pomegranate, dark incense, red currant, rose and vanilla. This is a complicated blend, and a bit difficult to describe. In the bottle, Queen of Clubs seems to me to be warm, fruity, even a little boozy. It's womanly and sweet. I am struck by similarities to Hunter Moon, even a little something that reminds me of elements of Dia de Los Muertos (although without the cocoa and wine notes of the latter.) On my skin, it turns soft and faintly floral (and heh, the rose doesn't try to conquer everything else on me for once...yay!!!) with a creaminess from the amber and vanilla that's truely lovely. This is a VERY sophisticated fragrance -- confident, gentle, and yes, earthy. The incense starts to shine, but it's faint and whispy, the lingering traces clinging to a woman who spends a lot of time burning incense, rather than the smell of the incense itself. The current and pomegranite continues to lend an appealing sweetness that I don't find at all cloying or overworked. It's really not even "fruity." The whole thing is balanced so skillfully that I'm really having to concentrate to pick out notes. What I really want to do is just glue my nose to my wrist, breathe deeply and sigh happily. This is a deep, rich, lush scent and very elegant. Queen of Clubs lasted a good long while on me, with very good throw and a lovely vanilla and amber dry down that I found even more enjoyable than the wet stage. Mmmmm....lovely....mmmm....

Inspires you to begin new projects and gives you the impetus to see them to completion. Enhances creativity, drive and determination. This has been a very difficult oil for me to get a grip on. In the bottle it smells herby and medicinal, and I must admit it's not the most pleasant smell for me. Once I put it on (and since this seems to be an oil that affects the self that did seem to be the best way to use it) it becomes spicier. Like anise and cinnamon, maybe? There's definitely a licorice/herbal/spiciness going on there there that is, if not perhaps my cup of tea, at least very interesting. As far as effectiveness is concerned, that will likely take some repeated exposure to see.

When the holidays roll around, not everyone has mistletoe, caroling and cookies on their minds. This scent is a paean to celebrating hard: nights covered in glitter and dusted with cocaine, flutes of Cristal clutched in shaky hands, leather and lace, the Spiders From Mars in the background, and twisting, sweaty limbs entangled in dark corners. Hairspray and cigarette smoke is the incense in this temple to decadence, strobe and mirrors replace the devotional candles, and Bolan sings the hymns. This scent is for everyone that has every drifted off into Quaalude-induced reverie to the beat of a tribal 4-on-the-floor: the sound of Mott the Hoople, Sweet, Slade or the Dolls. This scent reflects the futurism, self-indulgence and excess of the Glitter 70's: champagne, hyacinth, tuberose, ylang ylang and flashing white musk with jonquil, tobacco flower, white sandalwood and a pale poppy. So, the god of irony hath decreed that of course I would receive my Yule order while in the midst of a cold, which would be at that lovely stage where my nasal pasages are clogged. Nonetheless, given how much clamour there is for a review of this fragrance, I'm going to try to give my best impression anyway. The first question: is this floral? The answer is yes, at least upon initial application. The tuberose and ylang ylang are particularly noticable, even with a cold. Ah, but (at least with my chemistry) it doesn't last. The flowers fade within minutes, leaving the smell of white musk and champagne. The flowers retreat to the background, where (either do to my own expectations or Beth's genius, and I suspect the later) they take on a light hairspray smell. That might normally be a deal-breaker, but the truth is, this works so perfectly with the description of the scent that I can only view it with awe. For those folks looking for a New Year's Eve perfume, I think this will be gorgeous. I look forward to revisiting this when I can more fully appreciate the nuances of the fragrance.

The Queen's Consort: Lord of the Wide and Fertile Land. Patient, laborious, and clever, though preoccupied with material things. A perfect compliment to his Queen: deeper, darker earth notes with dark musk, tobacco leaf, oakmoss, amber, leather, sage and vetiver with fig and bitter almond When I opened this bottle, I was hit by the sharp smell of the almond, and I know the meaning of fear. But wait...you know...that's really not so bad. It's a gentle desert almond, a faint sprinkling of chopped pieces on top of something luscious. Could it finally be that I'm getting over my unreasonable hatred of almond scents? So I tried it on, and spent the whole day trying to figure out if I could come up with some better words to say about this besides “dark,” “masculine,” “deep,” “wild,” and “OMG! FUCK ME NOW!” Ahem. What I mean to say is, my response to the King of Clubs is a very visceral “YES!” which makes it a little hard for me to describe it rationally. It's well blended, sexy, and the fig seems to prove a nice balance to elements that might otherwise be too harsh. The vetiver was not overwhelming to me. I caught pleasant wafts of this all day, and from a singular application in the morning I was still able to get a very enthusiastic complement from my boyfriend when we went to bed -- so the King has some staying power. I must say I really DO think this is the perfect complement to the Queen of Clubs. I could easily see a couple wearing both these fragrances for a night out, although it's just as likely in my opinion that they'd never leave the house. Thanks Beth!

The Storm Moon marks the darkest portion of the year. A season of long, impenetrable nights and turbulent tempests. A raging, electric and wet scent: slashing rain notes, rolling thunder, and sharp, cold winds layered by a breath of softly wafting lunar incense, a hint of Luna's blooms, and the brittle herbs of winter. I really like ozone/stormy scents, so I had high expectations for this one. I KNEW I was going to love it. Sometimes it is a mistake to presume too much... In the bottle: Downy fabric softener and hair spray. Oh my. This is the strongest ozone I've ever encountered. This tells Hurricane to sit down and shut up. This is my computer printer when they set it up too close to my desk, and it pumped out ozone 8 hours a day, to make my hair stand up on end. On my skin, wet: Ozone. Ozone with a kick, and a bit of acquatics, some herby stuff in the background, but overpowering everything is the smell of the unbridled storm. Unfortunately this scent is harkening me, not to the wild tempest, but to the laundry room. Ack. On my skin, dry: Still waiting, and will update. Conclusions: I honestly don't know how much I like this one, but we'll see as it continues to dry. Also, this may be (as such things go) a bad time of the month for me, so I'm not dismissing Storm Moon just yet. Update: I waited, and indeed it turned out that Storm Moon on me was a time of the month issue. It is still, mind you, ozone strong enough to make a lightning bolt hit a stained glass window, but it's no longer fabric softener or hair spray. That makes Storm Moon infinitely more wearable for me, and makes me very happy.

Provides an abundance of creative inspiration in all the arts. In the bottle this smells (like so many TAL blends) medicinal -- and rather distinctly like geraniums. Okay. Weird, but not unpleasant. Worn, a lemony scent (lemon verbena? lemon grass? maybe...) comes out that reminds me honestly of Calliope, but never goes to that weird Lemon Pledge place. There is a slightly minty edge to it as well, and after a while the whole perfume goes quite powdery on my skin. (This is neatly avoided by the way, but the use of a wax warmer and scent lockets.) This isn't unpleasant, but not my favorite thing in the world. (We WILL get to my favorite thing in the world in a bit though.) I've used this in both wax warmers and to annoint myself before beginning creative work. I've also worn it as general perfume, but with the specific intention of seeing if it was inspired any particular creativity. Wooboy, did it ever. So, the first time I wore it, I discovered two things: 1) yes, it did help me get through a writer's block and 2) it may well have an aphrodisiac effect on me. Ahem. The second time I used it I had a brainstorm for a marketing campaign. The third time I used it in a wax warmer right next to where I was sketching out ideas for logo designs. VERY pleased with the results. So, the verdict? This stuff works.

Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best Have gone to their eternal rest. There shrines and palaces and towers (Time-eaten towers that tremble not!) Resemble nothing that is ours. Around, by lifting winds forgot, Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. No rays from the holy heaven come down On the long night-time of that town; But light from out the lurid sea Streams up the turrets silently - Gleams up the pinnacles far and free - Up domes - up spires- up kingly halls - Up fanes - up Babylon-like walls - Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers - Up many and many a marvellous shrine Whose wreathed friezes intertwine The viol, the violet, and the vine. Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. So blend the turrets and shadows there That all seem pendulous in air, While from a proud tower in the town Death looks gigantically down. There open fanes and gaping graves Yawn level with the luminous waves; But not the riches there that lie In each idol's diamond eye - Not the gaily-jewelled dead Tempt the waters from their bed; For no ripples curl, alas! Along that wilderness of glass - No swellings tell that winds may be Upon some far-off happier sea - No heavings hint that winds have been On seas less hideously serene. But lo, a stir is in the air! The wave- there is a movement there! As if the towers had thrust aside, In slightly sinking, the dull tide - As if their tops had feebly given A void within the filmy Heaven. The waves have now a redder glow - The hours are breathing faint and low - And when, amid no earthly moans, Down, down that town shall settle hence, Hell, rising from a thousand thrones, Shall do it reverence. The scent of Death's seaside throne: luminous aquatic notes threaded through by creeping ivies, white woods, waving kelp and bruised violets. Label: This scent has put me in a strange frame of mind, so forgive me. It's hard one to describe, but I'll give it a go: Go down to the beach, but do not stay there. No gritty sand and tumbling surf for you -- no marine layer mists and rum drinks, no pirate grog or sea spray, no suntan oil, no littered strand after the storm. No, that is not for you. Your way is older. Your way is ancient. You have come to this sea, these waters, long, long before. Walk into the tide, let the cold water wrap around you. Don't try to swim. Don't try to breath: there is no air as pure as the sea. Sink, walk, glide into the mazurine depths, until you reach Tethys' realm beyond the reach of Man. Let the tides flow over you as you move into the abyss. Smell the ocean salt water filling your lungs, feel the kelp caress you, twining through your hair like school-girl ribbons as you walk towards home.

No, they still come this way...this was a (quite probably) permanent change.

Sarada's got it, I think. I just know that I adored Three Witches to bits: if I could have gotten the re-release as a 10ml, I would have...and I didn't. Thus my agreeing that the a 10ml Three Witches is very likely an original formula version.

Sounds right to me. I'm pretty sure the Lab stopped selling 10mls before the Three Witches re-release.

But the kitty is speeecial....

Can you try sending it to them from a different e-mail address? If you're being blocked, that might help the issue. Also, double check the e-mail address you're sending it to, just in case that's the problem.

Ahem...as a matter of fact, I didn't do the art for these. Too busy. Beth found some other very talented artists to pick up the slack, and I look forward to seeing the labels myself!!

They're photos. We're looking into the issue, since we thought it was a photo we had permission to use.

hehe! I had fun with those...glad you like them!

If anyone ever needed proof that the Lab hand-blends their oils, this would probably be the shining example. Unfortunately, the cold hard fact of the matter is that when you are mixing up oils from such incredibly remote locations and sources, that crop variations are...well...inevitable. I think Electra likely has nailed this in saying that one of Hamadryad's woods likely smells minty, and for some reason the batch that season was stronger than normal.

Differences should be pretty minor, I believe. Of course, I wasn't holding up a bottle of the last set to compare with, but I DID reuse the same files, so...mostly any differences would be to accommodate larger or smaller perfume titles (some are real doozies for length.) I was relatively careful to match letter color and hat shading for the Carnaval Diabolique scents. For Carnaval Noir, the only labels that used the "Snake Oil" label were the Snake Pit — and my decision to use that label with the type of serpent on each was so very last minute (I had told Beth I was going to make a single label, then changed my mind because I wasn't happy with it and ended up doing them all individually) that I honestly didn't pay much attention to the jester's crown. Except, perhaps, to make sure it lined up with King Cobra's head just so.