Aldercy

Spring water, greens, and a little whisper of flowers. It's very... April rains and wilting tree blossoms. I can't say I sense any tulip or peony specifically. Not unpleasant by a long shot, but Amsterdam is very weak and short-lived on me. It's hard to get much of a hold on it. Sweet, fresh scent, but I just wish it had more power.

Night-Gaunt is a fanciful, highly unusual blend. I can't get over the boldness of the combination of notes in this. The kumquat (which is just the most bizarre fruit scent I've ever encountered) that I love in Tweedledee is alive and kicking in this blend. In addition to that there's a swirl of citrus, but more like the zesty oil that sometimes sprays from the rind-- very concentrated and confident. And there's a few underlying notes that keep emerging and then hiding: lemongrass? and something that's almost... fir needle? But like a sweet, cool evergreen that's not at all stereotypical. It's really effervescent and alive-- it makes me think of apple-green potion bubbling away. And then the whole thing slowly dissolves (over a matter of hours) to paper thin, gossamer flowers: white, dewy and sparkling. Very sophisticated floral. So, Night-Gaunt:

Very little sandalwood in this, and only a bit more myrrh. I wish the myrrh were a touch stronger, but they both work well in the background here. Velvet is mostly a thin, almost gauzy semi-sweet cocoa powder scent that comes across as warm but sheer. I've heard chocolate can be a little plasticy, and though I haven't gotten that from other cocoa scents, this has a very slight threat of plastic somewhere. It doesn't ruin the blend though. This oil doesn't strike me as hugely foody, somehow, though it theoretically should be. Gentle, feminine, and a little exotic.

LOTS of wild Concord grape (with dusty, twisted vines and brambles) and a brittle, antique metallic note. Those are definitely the two strongest things about Horreur Sympathique. The grape scent is like an unsweetened jam, very concentrated and very black. The rusty metal is a little coppery... is that a tinge of dried blood? There's some aged flowers, none of them distinguishable from one another to my nose. This is a sober, haunted, witchy oil to me. Seems like a late autumn scent. It's not quite like anything else. Horreur Sympathique is a clever blend, especially the very natural grape note, but it makes for a very unusual perfume, and I'll have to see how I feel about it over time, I think. It has potential.

The Dormouse is largely pale, icy green tea to my nose. It's a sheer scent that strikes me as very innocent and cleansing. The herbal quality is faint, but I definitely get the peony on close examination. I get a heady breath of it every once in awhile, and it's dead-on the peonies I have in my backyard. This is a good fit for spring, and light and simple enough to wear anywhere.

Beeswax! There is the same wealth of beeswax in Anubis as in Ichabod Crane. I've been trying to find a blend with as good a honeycomb impression as IC all winter, and Anubis, a frimp with no explicit honey notes listed, is a huge surprise. I'm going to have to look for more oils with benzoin/storax and balsam.... Anubis is just the most beautiful resin blend. The myrrh is appropriately divine. It's very androgynous, and its foggy sweetness (it does get progressively sweeter as it dries) is not remotely sugary or overpowering. There's something about it that makes it feel physically calming while simultaneously sort of mentally cleansing/invigorating. It's a very decorous, respectful scent that definitely seems alien and ancient. I am blown away.

Wet, Salome is straight-up, natural almond extract, which is delightful. Wonderful. Masterful. This is, however, the second time that almond seems to have gone a little rancid on me and induced the beginnings of migraine. It breaks my heart. Other than that, I definitely can pick out a strong jasmine note-- really down-and-dirty, sexy, evil jasmine-- and the red sandalwood. That side of this scent is reminiscent of Peitho to me. But it's a bit more dry and spicy: more "desert" than "tropics." Great potential, but it clashes with my chemistry something awful.

I have no notion what the ingredients are, of course, but let me see... Leipreachán is not as stereotypically green as I would have expected, but it is very natural and earthy. And I think I do detect clover, though it may just be because I'm expecting something like that. There's a slight voluptuous amber fruit thing going on that reminds me a little of Hymn to Proserpine. Maybe some dandelion and honey? and... something alcoholic? Oils with alcohol notes all do a certain thing on my skin that I think I may be detecting. As a whole, the blend is a little strange and unreal. It's very layered. Fresh and dark at the same time. I'm enjoying it. (I wonder if the Lab laughs at us when we try to guess unlisted notes and are wildly off-target? )

When I first tried Hay Moon, I found it somewhat flat and musty, but it has a better side. It seems to do better when applied heavily (usually I dab) for some reason. It has a pleasantly rural, rough quality about it which neither smells good nor bad. A hot barnyard sort of scent. And it smells a little like India-- I've never been to India, but I guess what I mean to say is that there's a sort of exotic, charred incense impression about it that reminds me of the smell that hangs around scarves or tapestries imported from India. Hay Moon reminds me the slightest bit of both Morocco and The Little Sparrow, which makes me think I might be getting a whiff of sandalwood? Interesting.

Cancer is thick and soft, almost... pillowy (if scent had texture anyway). Overall, it's a greenhouse sort of smell: pampered, dewey plants and some shy florals in the background. There's also a vein of fresh water running through the scent that I catch every once in awhile. I think I can mostly pick out the lettuce and chamomile notes, and they're both really lovely. I wish I could discern the wild pear, but I'll get over it. Really pleasant, unassuming and calming oil.

Old Moon smells like tart, woodland berry pie... decidedly purple and rustic. With the tang of old, wet evergreen, shining and weird. It's rather mystical, desserty, cold and lovely. It's not remotely harsh, and the evergreen is very full-bodied, not like that stark air-freshener pine. Not much throw and it doesn't seem to last too long, but I adore it.

The lime is very prominent in Green Phoenix-- it's a sharp, fresh, wet scent and reminds me of a margarita. Other than that... This is a cool, slippery blend which reminds me rather of The Witch's Garden in that the green notes don't bring to mind herbs so much as leafy vegetables. There's a bit of a "cucumber melon" feel to this oil, but with more complexity. A sliver of grass, perhaps some aloe or clover?, but no mint for me. Airy and healthy. Almost makes you want to drink it like a tonic. Spot on. Not good for a subzero January day, but I'll treasure this come summer.

Oh, this is a sinful amount of fun! Huesos de Santo is exactly what I hoped for and nothing like what I feared (I thought the description sounded fascinating, but weird enough that it could possibly turn out to be sickly). An orange creamsicle melting in the warmth of dense, buttery, almost smoky poundcake with a twist of citrus zest. There's a wicked, twisted peppery or woody note (maybe that's the anise/liquorice in disguise?) and a beautiful spike of sugar-spun sweetness. Not cloying at all, just mouthwatering. Not much floral depth to this, but perhaps just a breath of dried flowers. Diabolically foody. It's decadent as the court of King Henry VIII, this oil. Heavy and seductive and really hedonistic. It's ridiculous and wonderful. I freakin love Huesos de Santo. I wish I'd gotten a bottle after all.

It took me a long time to know what to say about Pisces. At first I was convinced that was because it was generic... pleasant but shallow. But now I think it's grown on me and I'm smelling more going on here. I get some quite unexpected notes from this. The main one is a sort of... white, smoky chamomile. Bitter-sleepy and warmly soapy. Odd. There's definitely an earthy, green-brown base under that, probably caused by the hemp and moss and such. It's a little floral, but poppy seems to treat my skin with a kind of quiet respect-- it stays in the background and doesn't do much harm. I like that this blend didn't take the obvious aquatic route for Pisces, but there's still a certain... flexibility? to it. I'm a Pisces and I like it alright.

I'm really into the beeswax in Ichabod Crane. I think this might be the first blend I've tried with it and now it's definitely something that warrants further exploration. Tawny, buttery, and woodsy. It's delicate and filthy rich at the same time. There's a hint of tea with an Earl Gray sort of mood to it, but not much. There's a calm, settled, possibly old feel to the blend as a whole, possibly caused by a sort of film of thin, crumbly, papery notes laid over the more warm, edible smells. It's mildly masculine and highly academic. It belongs on a Victorian naturalist philosopher or someone of that sort. I was afraid to order a 5ml of Ichabod because I had unfounded fears that it would not work on me. I'm not sure why I thought that now, as this oil clearly loves me. Win.

Hm, mostly classic dragon's blood with some dry, grainy powder-- not baby powder, but a fragrant dustiness that feels like it belongs in a barn. Not sure what ingredient is causing that. It's a little flowery but maybe it's the sweetgrass (not sure what sweetgrass smells like). There's a faint perfumy feel, and I have a hard time picking out individual notes besides the resin, which is a little unfortunate because I was quite intrigued by many of the things listed. Not bad, not mindblowing. Pleasant, but an imp'll do me just fine.

Jólasveinar has a total split personality as far as I am concerned. It's precisely like two scents in one, which do not blend and are completely unrelated. It doesn't morph from one to the other, it switches back and forth on a second by second basis. One breath I take it's one smell and the next it's another. I've never found an oil quite like that before. Scent 1: flaky baked goods with a jolt of icing and some soft winter spices; some dark, moist earthiness and tangy greenery settles in the background; very warm and Christmas-y. Scent 2: this must be the distinctive thing people are talking about when they discuss BPAL "slushy" scents. This is the first snow scent I've tried, and it's really shockingly realistic. It smells exactly like how snow tastes. It's a very invigorating, glacial blue sort of scent. So, I pretty much love this oil. I wore it for the first time yesterday, and I don't think I'll be able to stop for a few days. It's a wonderful holiday smell, but not cliche or cloying. Incredible.

Fantastic! Very caramel/molasses/maple syrup, with a slightly harsh grainy/bran-like undertone. There's a nuttiness, perhaps like toasted almonds. I don't get the carrot or the apple, at least right now, but I wasn't expecting either to be hugely prominent. Gunpowder is a very rough, stirring, healthy scent. Of course, this is not how horses or stables actually smell (no dung, foamy horse sweat, or old flypaper in these stables!), but it's how they should smell-- how you remember them smelling when you have a pleasant memory of such things. I spent a lot of time in my childhood with horses and this oil suits that kind of atmosphere very well, and the faint muskiness does remind me of dusty, warm horsehair-- like the way your hands smelled after scratching their ears or neck. Gunpowder definitely evokes the idea of fresh air, distant cooking, and big, gentle beasts. Really original blend.

Dark chocolate incense with a faint indescribable tang in the background. This is definitely not an overly sweet, bakery type blend-- it smells like warm, bitter cocoa with a slight nuttiness. Maybe really rich, unadulterated hot chocolate. I don't get much amber, but it may come out with time (people seem to be saying it might emerge more with maturation or resting). I've never tried anything with a chocolate note before, but I bought a bottle of Gelt unsniffed because for some reason I was just really fascinated with the idea of it, and I'm not upset I did. It performs as advertised and is really delicious and comforting.

Sadly, like nearly everyone else, I do have to report a lot of powder from The Little Sparrow (amber usually works wonderfully on me, so I'm really surprised). It's not, however, completely ruined. The powder could be interpretted as cottony/feathery, and is not totally unpleasant. And when I first put it on it had a really sharp, almost amusing, sweet peppery quality. It started out woody and dry and faintly sparkling. Very natural and innocent and powerful all at the same time. Perhaps if I end up getting a scent locket soon, it'll work better in there. Or maybe it will change with some time. I don't want to give up on this one. Incidentally, it also smells like my childhood best friend's house, so that's nice.

Heavy-duty salad at first. Definitely ruffage, with a lot of parsley. It grows more flowery but also more peculiar over the first few minutes. I don't know what a number of the notes in The Witch's Garden are meant to smell like, so it could be anything lending it this tingling, sparkly, dangerously enticing quality. It's an almost salty or glassy sort of note. This oil is definitely enchanted. Overgrown, uncontrolled, and strange. There's a vegetable earthiness with a lovely bubbling scent over it which smells a bit like melon and a bit like gardenia and a bit like wine. A little perfumy when I get up close to it, but not very noticeable. This is so different from my other green scents. I was beginning to think there was really only one sort, but this is way out in left field. It's... "glittery vegetables," not "astringent herbs." Weird. I really like it.

Sweet, sunsoaked grass and faint, realistic, soft leather/suede. While leather can be hideous on me, this is well-tempered by the other notes. The frankincense and maybe a hint of musky ambergris float around in the background, but those more resinous, peculiar scents are pretty light. Overall, it's fresh and outdoorsy and warm. Antony's pretty sexy. Bordering on too masculine for me, but I was expecting that. It's right on the fence. I could pull it off with the right mood and attitude.

This is pretty soapy on me, but it's a decent "clean" scent, not a sweet, artificial one. I see where people are getting the grape vibe, though it never would have occurred to me without prompting. I also think of starchy, wholesome roots of some sort-- not that High John the Conqueror smells like a potato, but there's just something whitely earthy about it. It's not really what I was looking for (and it doesn't make me feel especially confident or powerful), but it's not bad overall. No florals or lemon for me.

Interesting, interesting. Stimulating Sassafras Strengthener brings to mind breakable-to-the-touch brown leaves. I suppose that's the oak. It's an earthy, mild scent. Though a little more astringent and herbal at first, it calms down to this lovely stage pretty quickly. Behind the outdoorsy, dry leaves note is certainly root beer. More of a root beer float considering the thick, creamy vanilla mixed in with it. I think this suits late autumn-- cold, brown, and down-to-earth, but comforting. Not too sweet, not too foody, not too anything. Just a pleasant oil, which I think will grow on me with time and maybe a bit of aging.

Absinthe is... well, so far it's a lemon orgy. Brutal lemon. With a razor-sharp bit of sterile mint. When I sniff my wrist, I get this prickly cold sensation in the back of my throat a second later-- the sort of feeling that numbing cough drops produce. I'm sensing a tiny bit of anise after awhile, particularly if I just catch a whiff of Absinthe from afar, but not enough to make any significant impact of the citrus. Sadly, this is like medicine or cleaning fluid on me. Too concentrated.