Aldercy

THE RED RIDER She went a little further and again she heard the sound of a horse's hoofs and there came another man on horseback galloping past her. He was dressed all in red, and the horse under him was blood-red and its harness was red, and just as he passed her the sun rose. Red leather, red moss, and balsam. This is probably the most realistic leather I've ever come across in BPAL or anything else. Perhaps it's just my skin chemistry, but I honestly tend to take the traditional "leather" note as its own unique creature-- sometimes good, but not really leather. Like how banana-flavored stuff is nice but has nothing to do with the taste of actual bananas. But The Red Rider is Real. Tanned. Leather. For me, it smells like horse tack and animal hide (beaten soft and fuzzy with years of use), no ifs, ands or buts about it. It's not oppressive or thick, though-- it's well-aired leather. More like the scent that would truly be left on your skin after wearing fine leather gloves. The balsam is a good base, but not noticeable in and of itself. As for the "red moss"-- there is a tangled, mossy texture to the scent, but I do not smell anything actually fresh or plantlike. There's also the tiniest drop of something that seems like very diluted red musk/watery cherrywood. It is not at all the heart of the scent, but I suppose it insinuates "redness." Kind of a gentle, rusty-brown, oxblood red though... nothing garish. A bit masculine, yes. I won't wear it on a regular basis, but it is really interesting. The imp will be making a home here.

The scent of frozen Type O negative. Amazingly complex for what could be considered a blood single note. I was a little worried about it, but had to try (I mean, I devoted a lot of time to staring at Tom Hiddleston licking that red popsicle well before this scent came out. Instant purchase). Turns out Blood Popsicle has some heady fruitiness-- not like any particular fruit, but it's certainly "red" and kind of syrupy-- with something like blood musk, and a touch of tart smoke. It comes across as both foody and feral. Sweet but strange. There's nothing about it that strikes me as cold or icy, but there might be a hint of salt water in the background. Not exactly like anything else I have, and not exactly like the blood notes I've come across in BPAL before. Attractive, but in a way you can't put your finger on. Surprisingly wearable. I think it will be really nice for late summer and early fall.

An October funeral, 1888. Black linen and delicate, sugar-spun lace suffused with the scent of tobacco, black tea, Indian musk, liturgical incense, and cognac, with a drop of laudanum and crushed Autumn leaves. Oh my, it's like the lovechild of Falling Leaf Moon and Black Lace. The Lab seems to have a few different leaf notes and this is definitely the one from Falling Leaf Moon. Woodsy, misty, a little spicy. And it's layered heavily over that ultra-well-blended, sweet musky quality that I associate with Black Lace-- it's the kind of scent that doesn't seem to have a lot of individually identifiable notes, but is just one big impression of sugary smoked linen. Overall, Autumn Lace is both sexy and cozy. I don't know what else to say except that it strikes me as a BPAL classic. I'm so glad I bought it!

Deceptive One Black fig, green tea, opoponax, ciste absolute, myrrh, carnation, nutmeg, and Brazilian vetiver. Apatouros is definitely not what I expected! I'm getting mostly green tea (kind of warm and vegetal, not light or clean) and fig (thick, chewy, dry) with a bit of dusty nutmeg. So it's a green and fruity scent (but neither fresh nor sweet) with spice. Rather an odd combination. The darker resins and vetiver are, surprisingly, almost entirely absent (maybe a bit of myrrh peeks through). Not a sign of carnation either, as far as I can tell. It doesn't seem to change very much between the bottle and my skin. Well, it's not really what I was hoping for (a smoky carnation resinfest), but I like the black fig note. I can't see myself wearing it often enough to warrant the bottle, but I'll hold on to it for awhile to see.

Bourbon vanilla, custard accord, white rose, cocoa absolute, oudh, lemon blossom, and skin musk. Head's up, everyone! Delight & Consternation is one of those BPAL oils with chocolate sludge, so be sure to mix and roll well! The sludge is not a huge percentage of the blend (like Boomslang), just a couple of millimeters at the bottom of the bottle. But it will smell different if you don't mix properly. So... I love this. Immediately. The chocolate note is dry bittersweet cocoa powder with a hint of aged woodiness, maybe from the oudh. The balmy lemon blossom (very subtle-- creamy and fresh, but not strongly citrusy) blends well with the custard to make a kind of faint, mellow lemon curd impression. It reminds me a little of the custard/orange/floral thing going on in Huesos de Santo, though more gentle. But this is all clean and distinct from the cocoa somehow: they don't clash at all. The white rose takes several minutes to make an appearance, and it's a soft, almost honeyed rose. The skin musk and vanilla are both very lacy and delicate and stay in the background. It's an unexpected combination of notes, but they are incredibly complementary. Delight & Consternation stays pretty close to the skin. It's not exactly foody or even overly sweet despite having several gourmand notes. The oudh and musk keep it grounded and give it a hint of sexiness. It's very unique, and I'm so glad I bought a bottle! ETA: Okay, I see the cocoa sludge is not universal! Mine is very noticeable. When I overturn the bottle, it cascades down the sides, leaving streaks and globules floating around like a lava lamp. When I roll the bottle for awhile to mix it, it gets cloudy enough that light doesn't shine through. It will be interesting to see how everyone's individual bottles vary.

A WORLD OF FOOLS “A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!” cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge’s nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach. “Bah!” said Scrooge, “Humbug!” He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge’s, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again. “Christmas a humbug, uncle!” said Scrooge’s nephew. “You don’t mean that, I am sure?” “I do,” said Scrooge. “Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You’re poor enough.” “Come, then,” returned the nephew gaily. “What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You’re rich enough.” Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said, “Bah!” again; and followed it up with “Humbug.” “Don’t be cross, uncle!” said the nephew. “What else can I be,” returned the uncle, “when I live in such a world of fools as this? Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas! What’s Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in ’em through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? If I could work my will,” said Scrooge indignantly, “every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!” “Uncle!” pleaded the nephew. “Nephew!” returned the uncle, sternly, “keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.” Figgy pudding with a stake of holly through its heart. I don't actually get much fig from this figgy pudding-- just a general impression of spicy, cakey fruit. If I get any specific fruit, it might be pineapple. Go figure-- maybe my nose is broken. It's dark, dense, bready, dessert-like without being particularly sweet. It has a distinct pinch of warm, ruddy powdered ginger. I also feel like there's a hint of buttery nuts (maybe walnut)? I get evergreen in the beginning when it's wet, but it's swamped pretty quickly by the foodiness. I would have liked it to stick around to help balance out this extremely rich pudding, but it failed me. The further the oil dries, the more muddled it seems to become on my skin so that it ends up being a little generically "Christmasy" (not quite potpourri or holiday candle though). I'll keep my decant, but I don't think I need to upgrade this one.

THE SCHOOL “The school is not quite deserted,” said the Ghost. “A solitary child, neglected by his friends, is left there still.” Scrooge said he knew it. And he sobbed. They left the high-road, by a well-remembered lane, and soon approached a mansion of dull red brick, with a little weathercock-surmounted cupola, on the roof, and a bell hanging in it. It was a large house, but one of broken fortunes; for the spacious offices were little used, their walls were damp and mossy, their windows broken, and their gates decayed. Fowls clucked and strutted in the stables; and the coach-houses and sheds were over-run with grass. Nor was it more retentive of its ancient state, within; for entering the dreary hall, and glancing through the open doors of many rooms, they found them poorly furnished, cold, and vast. There was an earthy savour in the air, a chilly bareness in the place, which associated itself somehow with too much getting up by candle-light, and not too much to eat. They went, the Ghost and Scrooge, across the hall, to a door at the back of the house. It opened before them, and disclosed a long, bare, melancholy room, made barer still by lines of plain deal forms and desks. At one of these a lonely boy was reading near a feeble fire; and Scrooge sat down upon a form, and wept to see his poor forgotten self as he used to be. Not a latent echo in the house, not a squeak and scuffle from the mice behind the panelling, not a drip from the half-thawed water-spout in the dull yard behind, not a sigh among the leafless boughs of one despondent poplar, not the idle swinging of an empty store-house door, no, not a clicking in the fire, but fell upon the heart of Scrooge with a softening influence, and gave a freer passage to his tears. The Spirit touched him on the arm, and pointed to his younger self, intent upon his reading. Suddenly a man, in foreign garments: wonderfully real and distinct to look at: stood outside the window, with an axe stuck in his belt, and leading by the bridle an ass laden with wood. “Why, it’s Ali Baba!” Scrooge exclaimed in ecstasy. “It’s dear old honest Ali Baba! Yes, yes, I know! One Christmas time, when yonder solitary child was left here all alone, he did come, for the first time, just like that. Poor boy! And Valentine,” said Scrooge, “and his wild brother, Orson; there they go! And what’s his name, who was put down in his drawers, asleep, at the Gate of Damascus; don’t you see him! And the Sultan’s Groom turned upside down by the Genii; there he is upon his head! Serve him right. I’m glad of it. What business had he to be married to the Princess!” To hear Scrooge expending all the earnestness of his nature on such subjects, in a most extraordinary voice between laughing and crying; and to see his heightened and excited face; would have been a surprise to his business friends in the city, indeed. “There’s the Parrot!” cried Scrooge. “Green body and yellow tail, with a thing like a lettuce growing out of the top of his head; there he is! Poor Robin Crusoe, he called him, when he came home again after sailing round the island. ‘Poor Robin Crusoe, where have you been, Robin Crusoe?’ The man thought he was dreaming, but he wasn’t. It was the Parrot, you know. There goes Friday, running for his life to the little creek! Halloa! Hoop! Halloo!” In the corner of a desolate, dismal schoolhouse, all lonely stone walls, beeswax, and dusty wooden writing desks, stirs the scent of gold coins hidden in forest outside Baghdad, waves crashing against the hull of a Salé pirate ship, the lofty halls of Pépin le Bossu’s court, and a wild child’s home in the woods. From the decant and wet on the skin, The School strikes me as a tad cologney. Not a terrible cologne, but definitely veering toward that territory. As it dries, it becomes more complex. I'm mostly smelling those writing desks. It's a very clear, strong note-- antique, darkly gleaming wood (at first I thought rosewood, but that dissipated almost immediately-- now it's more like mahogany or redwood) buffed with creamy, mild beeswax. The beeswax note reminds me of the type in Ichabod Crane, but it's much duller and more tempered. It's just a supporting note for that gorgeous wood. And I can't get over how "true" that note is-- when wood normally starts cologney and stays cologney on me. This one morphed, and it's great. I feel like there might be a dab of smoky patchouli leaf somewhere in this scent as well, but it's not strong. This is indeed an academic scent. I would love to study with this. It's rather serious, but deeply calming. It's what I wanted out of Miskatonic University nearly three years ago when I first found BPAL. I can see how this is a "memory" of a school, an unpopulated place. But it's not desolate or dismal or dusty. It's like finding a long abandoned study or library of some sort that may be lonely, but is also wondrous. It is somehow warmed by the gold and the pirate ship and such things even though I don't smell those literal notes. I love it. Masterpiece of the Yules for me so far, and I wasn't even expecting much from it! Bottle.

POMEGRANATE IV Pomegranate, cognac, red musk, cocoa, tobacco absolute, star anise, and thyme. So: I opened my bottle of Pomegranate IV, cautiously sniffed, squee'd (thus frightening the cat out of the room), and immediately slathered myself. I am really into this and don't think I will regret buying a 5ml unsniffed at all. After ordering, I began getting concerned about the cocoa (which almost never works on me) and then even more concerned when Will Call reviews were like "Woah chocolate!" but I am actually not getting a lot of chocolate from this. There is a hint of dry cocoa powder hovering around the base of the scent, but it's mostly a tart pomegranate/silky red musk blend with a bit of dark, brown, smoky spice and anise. It's ever-so-slightly foody, but not in an obvious way. It's one that would be difficult to place in a "family" or category. Reminds me of a lighter, sweeter version of Mme. Moriarty (no patch, less musk, stronger pom)-- they could be cousins. Also reminds me a little of BBW "Midnight Pomegranate" but smoother and richer. I am seriously so excited about this one. For me, it totally makes up for the lack of a Pumpkin Patch. It is in no way a "traditional" autumn scent full of mulling spices and such, but to me it resonates as autumnal on an emotional level. I am going to bathe in this this fall. ETA: Oh, just noticed the thick layer of Boomslang-like cocoa sediment lurking at the bottom of the bottle. I did roll this bottle around before applying and there's some cloudiness, but I obviously didn't mix in all the heavy chocolately oil. Which is probably why I'm not getting the full force of cocoa. I'll try it again after a serious mixing, but considering I like it so much this way, I may end up deliberately avoiding integrating the chocolate too much....

L'ESSENCE DE LA FOLIE Pink pepper, black pepper, clove, myrrh, dark chocolate, labdanum, and Daemonorops draco. L'Essence de la Folie is a surprising mix of notes. It's a little lighter than I would have expected, and I detect almost no dark resin or chocolate at all (I checked to make sure there wasn't a cocoa sludge on the bottom of the bottle failing to get incorporated, as sometimes happens-- there's not). It's actually like... spiced bubblegum. I think the pink pepper, clove (which is very mild) and Daemonorops are playing the largest roles in this impression I'm getting. I know that some people's skin/nose chemistry interprets dragon's blood resin as bubblegum, but I've tried a hell of a lot of BPAL dragon's blood scents and have never once thought it smelled like bubblegum before... maybe it's something to do with a difference between the Dracaena draco and Daemonorops draco varieties? Anyway, this isn't a bad turn of events. The longer it dries, the more a little wisp of myrrh smoke comes out as well, softening things and making for a neat, quirky, well-blended scent. I like it.

THE NUTCRACKER Klara’s most prized Christmas gift. Broken by Fritz in a fit of jealousy, repaired by Drosselmeyer’s magic: frankincense, black mission fig, and galbanum. The first thing I think of when I apply The Nutcracker is frankincense and hot sugar. Like someone drizzled something sweet over smouldering incense. The frankincense is definitely the most prominent note here-- rich, earthy brown, faintly peppery. Stately and humble at the same time. But the sweetness in here is more surprising. It's seems linked to the fig for sure... chewy, purple, dried fig with a crust of sugar. These notes have a lot of depth and are very evocative. Definitely a purple-brown scent. Kind of bruise colored. It's a pleasant, warm and unusual scent. Despite having many other frankincense-heavy scents, I'm not sure I have anything that's really like this. (I still have never been able to figure out what galangal smells like, despite having tried it in probably a dozen scents. It's something that slips completely under my radar).

Lemurian Ghost, Clark Ashton Smith. Green, white, and ochre musks with moonflower, white mint, and wild lettuce. Lemurian Ghost is mostly dewy, pale lettuce (such an odd perfume note! but not bad) and floral musk. It's very innocuous and delicate. Slightly tropical and "beachy" in nature. I would have liked to get more of this mysterious "ochre" musk as well as the white mint (one of my favorite notes ever), but I don't think that's going to be the case. It's nice, and if you like light green, floral-fresh sort of scents, it may well be for you.

PA-POW Such glorious faith as fills your limpid eyes, Dear little friend of mine, I never knew. All-innocent are you, and yet all-wise. (For Heaven's sake, stop worrying that shoe!) You look about, and all you see is fair; This mighty globe was made for you alone. Of all the thunderous ages, you're the heir. (Get off the pillow with that dirty bone!) A skeptic world you face with steady gaze; High in young pride you hold your noble head, Gayly you meet the rush of roaring days. (Must you eat puppy biscuit on the bed?) Lancelike your courage, gleaming swift and strong, Yours the white rapture of a winged soul, Yours is a spirit like a Mayday song. (God help you, if you break the goldfish bowl!) "Whatever is, is good" - your gracious creed. You wear your joy of living like a crown. Love lights your simplest act, your every deed. (Drop it, I tell you- put that kitten down!) You are God's kindliest gift of all - a friend. Your shining loyalty unflecked by doubt, You ask but leave to follow to the end. (Couldn't you wait until I took you out?) -- Verse For a Certain Dog, Dorothy Parker Pa-Pow, Ted's best friend and companion for 17 years, passed away on September 1st, 2009. To celebrate her life and the joy she brought to all of us, we have created a scent evocative of bright days running through the grass and sun-warmed puppy fur dusted with California wildflowers. The proceeds from the sale of this scent will go to the Pasadena Humane Society so she can help care for the animals that were displaced and injured during this summer's Station Fires. To find out more about the Pasadena Humane Society, please visit: http://www.pasadenahumane.org/. Pa-Pow, we love you so much. My first first review. Pa-Pow is an amorphous, elusive scent in that it smells so tantalizingly familiar and comfortable, but yet I can't pick out individual notes very well. There is something in here that is so delicious and it's killing me that I cannot identify it... I'll report back if I figure out what it is. For those of you concerned about the grass note, I don't think it's extremely prominent. If it is, it's a thick, earthy, golden grass-- not fresh, sharp lawn clippings. This grass belongs in a field, not in your backyard. And the flowers are not in your face either. They're the spicy, warm, brambly wildflowers that I remember from Coyote, but they're still not strong. Overall, the blend smells fuzzy, snuggly, happy and just soaked in sunlight. This is probably the first scent that described itself has having a "sunny" component that I actually feel smells sunny. It's not like anything else I have. It's honestly probably one of my top ten favorites, at least judging from this first test. A really lovely tribute to a beloved pet.

Ginny is one of the best scents I've bought all year. It's not totally what I expected based on the notes. It's much spicier and darker than they might suggest, but so, so good. It is very closely related to Priala, the Human Phoenix, but more mellow, without the need for aging. It's a softer version of Priala, but with the same earthy cinnamon-and-smoke vibe. The tobacco flower is more like the French Tobacco SN than the tobacco flower or nicotiana note I'm used to encountering in BPAL. Overall, it's a bold, thick liqueur of a scent. Lingers close to the skin. I bought it and then couldn't help but wear it three days in a row (which almost never happens). Edit: I noticed the other reviewers mentioning that Ginny seems to feel paradoxically both "airy" and "deep." That's very true, and it's a rare quality in a scent. It feels like being outdoors-- somewhere dry and golden, but still fresh-- and also like being snuggled by a fire in an old parlor. Strange and intoxicating.

I'm really finding myself wearing A Thought and a Legend a lot since I got my decant. It's a thick, molten rose scent tempered by a delicate patchouli-- not overly earthy or raw. I've wanted to like rose/patch scents before, but they never worked out. I think the oudh (one of my new favorite notes) is what's acting as a nice bridge between them here. The saltiness of the "sea-kissed" element does not actually read as aquatic to me. It's salt, for sure, but it's kind of blended with the candle note and the patchouli into a lovely, warm, crystalline salty-sweetness. The scent as a whole is very complex. I'm surprised that this is going so badly for so many people, but it seems to really blossom with my skin chemistry.

This reminds me of Haunt's Winchester scent ("worn brown leather, sweet tobacco leaf, incense, amber, labdanum, and smoldering woods"). The notes are only in the same sort of family, but there's the same dark, dusty old cabin fragrance about them. Village Legend Lives Long is very furtive, very dry. With a powdery black resinous quality. It brings to mind shadows, abandonment, dead magic. Evocative and well-blended, but I don't think I need more than a decant of it. It's not "pleasant" or "pretty," and it would be the kind of scent I'd be hesitant to wear much around others.

A thick, dark-ish caramel apple scent. The caramel has a warm, bubbly, faintly scorched quality to it, and the apple is a rich autumn apple note, not green or sharp. The dry, earthy oak bark is there as well, and the apple blossom is just a very slight wisp of white floral spun through the rest of the scent as a kind of highlight. It's just about what I was expecting and hoping for, so I'm glad I bought it.

This scent is orgasmic. It reminds me of O, Le Petit Mort, and Womb Furie, but it's not a dupe for any of them. The honey is intense, but clear and slightly fruity. The warm, swirling musk is rich and comforting. It's ridiculously sensual, but not aggressive. Perfect, perfect, perfect. I feel precisely as if my hair has been loosened (if not soiled) in mid-orgy. ETA: This lasts SO MUCH LONGER than the other hair gloss I have (White Tea & Sage). I know this is a stronger scent by nature, but it's a huge difference. WT&S is completely gone less than half an hour after using it. Hair Loosened and Soiled in Mid-Orgies lasted for 36 hours, in different incarnations. The development seems to go like this: Application: Amazeballs. More foody than it later becomes, I smell something like sweet almond and myrrh in with the whipped, frothy honey. Strong enough to turn the entire bathroom into a magical wonderland for awhile. Drying (I put this on freshly washed wet hair, let it sit for awhile and then blow dry it): Also wonderful. The heat seems to burn off that initial almond smell and really excite the musk instead. I could see how this part could (could) be baby-powdery to an untrained nose. Because the musk is quite dry and "fluffy" and a bit reminiscent of a light amber. But it's crazy sexy. I mean CRAZY SEXY. The next 24 hours and possibly beyond: This is not a constant companion. It will not overwhelm whatever BPAL you choose to put on for the day, and I don't expect anyone would notice it unless they were close enough to give you a hug. But it's there. Several times an hour, I catch hints of sweet golden awesome. I was wearing a very different sort of scent as a perfume today (The Passionate Shepherd to His Love) and I pretty much just smelled its lovely green innocence but then every once in awhile... sneakily... BAM. Sexy hair smell. Next Time Washing Hair: Hot water hits hair and the scent of the initial application stage explodes all over the shower. This is one of those rare things that I love so much it makes me panic slightly because I feel that I must use it every day for the rest of my life, but how can I make that happen? I need to buy ALL OF IT.

Hm. I was really hoping for lots of resinous red amber, benzoin, oak, and mellow, ultra-aged patchouli, but... I'm getting everything but that. I'm getting a flat red musk, sharp herbal geranium, cedar, and a rather cheap, headshoppy patchouli. I don't dislike any of those notes (or I wouldn't have bought the scent, obviously), but they seem to all be the worst versions of themselves here in Sic Erit. It's really... pretty bad on me. Very one-dimensional and just... brown. A little musty. I'm considering washing it off, which I almost never do. I let it settle for several days after receiving it, knowing it would probably need it the most, but I'm thinking this is either just not for me or it needs to age A LOT. I may give it a couple months to see if it shows any signs of deepening, but otherwise I think it needs to be re-homed.

Watery rose, but in a weirdly good way? I don't normally care for aquatic notes, but there's a certain bright, tart water note (which is not just some generic, commercial impression of "freshness," but actually smells like fresh water) swirling around super creamy resinous black rose. The myrrh, benzoin and wood are blended together very, very thoroughly as a base for the dark, almost gooey rose note. Strange, sexy and uplifting at the same time! I thought I wouldn't need a bottle of this because I have quite a lot of rose scents, but this is appreciably different from any other rose BPAL I've tried. Perhaps I will need to buy this before the Yules come down...

Wow, this is one of those oils that really needed time to "settle" after traveling, I think. When I first received the decant and popped it open for a sniff, I was almost repelled by it. It smelled like STRONG plastic-y, buttery, fake cream. Maybe even a little like popcorn? There was no sign of the peony at all. I stashed it away for later evaluation, disappointed. However, it's been about a week and this is something completely different now. It's mostly peony, the tart dewy peony that I enjoy in The Dormouse. I don't interpret it as soap, but I can see how people easily could. It's an old-fashioned and slightly pretentious floral. The cream is barely there by comparison, just a hint of white warmth underneath. It's not a sweet scent and it's not a foody scent. I like it and will keep the decant for when I'm in the mood for a huge dose of peony, but I don't feel it's unique enough to get a bottle.

2012 Version I was hoping for a more pure fir-and-slush scent, but Talvikuu is a little more complex than I expected. The birch and evergreen are more woody than green, and there's a distinct hint of bubbly lemon. The snow is not quite the icy slush that it can be in some blends. It's the slightly heartier, spicier type found in Snow Moon. This is a nice winter blend, and I'm enjoying testing it, but it just isn't quite what I wanted. I'll keep the decant, but no bottle here, I think.

The Governess is a wonderfully blended scent. While the notes could end up being blandly musky floral, they aren't. It's one of those "traditional perfume impression but made 100 times better" BPAL oils. The green tea is unexpectedly strong. Tea is usually barely discernible to me and easily overpowered by other notes, but this green tea is right there. It's quite vegetal and grassy in character, with a touch of zingy spice. Warm, grainy, perhaps over-steeped. It's really nice, but not fresh in the way you'd normally expect green tea to be. And I find the orchid is stronger than the violet. Creamy and lovely and very much like the vanilla orchid in Clockwork Couture: Female. The musk seems to have become one with the orchid, lending it a subtle sensuality but not standing out on its own as a note. It's not screaming "white musk!" to me. The violet is there for sure, but it doesn't take over. It's a translucent blue violet, sparkly and delicate. As a whole, it's quite ladylike and unabashedly pretty, but still unique. I was transfixed by it when I tested it. There's no question in my mind that I'll be buying a bottle of this. This lasts surprisingly long for a scent of this type. I put it on last evening and I'm still getting whiffs of it this morning about 12 hours later.

This worried me when I first tried it last night. It was blandly baby powdery and sweet and I was kind of cursing myself for buying two bottles unsniffed. But I put it on again this morning, refusing to believe that one of my favorite notes could suddenly be so boring, and I'm happy to report that it's much better. It's still a little lighter than I expected, but it's now displaying the cloudy resinous warmth that I know and love. It's an ancient and mysterious scent, but close and comforting. I think it just takes awhile to warm up and bloom properly on the skin. Aging might help with that.

To me, this is mostly lovely vanilla-soaked suede. It's not a slick "chemical" leather note by any means: it's very natural and blends so well with the vanilla that it almost melts into a single scent impression. There's a a whisper of soft patchouli (and I mean very soft-- it's not a down-n-dirty patchouli at all) and strange, misty oakmoss. Something like old paper in the background. It's really earthy and elegant at the same time. Old-fashioned, but stimulating. Reminds me a little of Tombstone or Western Diamondback but smoother and more aristocratic. It's funny that the description for this scent calls Mrs. Palmer's a "low establishment" because we all seem to find it quite genteel! It's really beautiful and not like any other atmo sprays I have. I'm going to have a hard time talking myself down from buying another bottle or two before it goes away. If this kind of scent family appeals to you, Mrs. Palmer's is definitely hoard-worthy! ETA: This does last FOREVER. I used two spritzes in my bedroom about 18 hours ago and I can still smell it. It's insane!

A celebratory scent, spicy and joyful. This is the nation flower of Spain. It symbolizes the suffering of Christ, the passion of lovers, and the laurels of victory. I'm not going to say a whole lot about the scent because it is, precisely, Spanish Red Carnation. It smells exactly like my perfume oil-- a bit of greenery and fresh, spicy carnation. If you like the SN, you'll like this. And if you like the SN, but it doesn't work so well on your skin, this is a great alternative way to experience it. The fragrance strength is light to moderate on this one, but in a good way. When it's sitting unlit on my desk, I'll occasionally get a whiff of it. Lit, it seems to send intermittent tendrils of scent around a room as opposed to a giant scent-bomb you can't get away from. I notice it most when I leave the room and then come back in. Burns very, very cleanly and evenly with a high, steady flame. It's just the right diameter that the wax melts all the way to the edges easily instead of building up on the sides. It seems to be holding up pretty well-- I've burned it 3 times for 2+ hours at a time and the wax has maybe gone down a centimeter? I think the estimates of a 30 hour burn time are conservative and it may last a bit longer than that. I agree with amanderinorange, who reviewed the Shub candle, that it's strangely great when blown out. The wick doesn't smolder and smoke forever like some do, it just releases a final breath of toasty fragrance and is done. The wick also doesn't develop all those charred nodules that fall off and float in the wax, so I feel like it's really good quality.