Malista

Pannychis An attendant of the Goddess Venus. She presides over nocturnal pleasure, nighttime festivities, and all the joy and delight that can be found in the darkness. In later ages, it became the name of the all-night festival that closed the Eleusinian Mysteries. Night-blooming jasmine, moonflower, cardamom, sandalwood, black currant, ylang ylang, frankincense and lily. A lagniappe from the Lab with my much-delayed 4/1 order. I never pay attention to how BPAL oils smell in the imp/bottle. If I have learned anything in the last few months, it’s that they never smell like that on my skin. There’s something in this that I’m allergic to while it’s wet, which rather interferes with my appreciation of this blend, as it makes me cough, but I’ll do my best, because I promised. Freshly applied: This is very, very sweet and floral in that white floral way that often sets off my allergies. I love night-blooming jasmine (actually, it’s “jessamine,” not a true jasmine, and smells nothing like standard jasmines) in Real Time, and can sort of identify it as a player here, but all the elements are so well blended that it’s hard to tell where the jessamine leaves off and the ylang ylang and lily start. There is also the effect of the cardamom, which here seems to be acting more like its leafy incarnation cilantro, which always smells sort of sickly sweet to me. I don’t know what moonflower smells like. The sandalwood is nowhere in evidence, and the black currant, which together with the sandalwood may save this blend for me, is only hinting slyly at its potential presence. I do get some of the incense-y note of the frankincense. We will now take a 10-minute break while I pull my sleeve down over my wrist and hope whatever the top note that is making me cough and my sinuses clog will burn off rapidly. Talk among yourselves. And we’re back. Drying: More cardamom (without the sickly-sweet cilantro green, now) and frankincense, less sharp, floral top notes. This is now quite warm and incense-y, and yes, festive. The sandalwood smoothes and supports the spice and incense, and every now and then I get a clear, cool hit of night-blooming jasmine, just as if I were out walking at night and passed a yard where it was blooming. Here is the black currant, now, deepening and rounding out the blend, but still very much in the background. It’s still very well blended; less individual notes than its own complete self. It’s very pretty. It’s also fading fast. Dry: I wish the currant was more in evidence, as this is going quite dry on me, and could use dampening with some nice dark tangy fruit. On the fade, this finally happens, but by then there is barely a trace of scent lingering on my wrist. Summary: Pannychis is a very pretty blend, but not terribly “me.” The danger of precipitating an allergy attack with the wet stage is something I will only brave for blends that are insanely gorgeous on the dry down and don’t require frequent reapplication (The Hanging Gardens, for instance, where I will put up with the gardenia for the sake of the aftermath). Pannychis is sort of “meh” on me, alas. I’m sure I can find this imp a good home, though.

Alas, All in the Golden Afternoon triggered both my and my sister's asthma. This isn;t unusual for me with blends containing a lot of bouquets (the combinations necessary to synthesize fruit scents, etc. seem to be more prone to triggering me), so I'm not surprised. I am disappointed, though.

There's an entire topic on this in, I believe, the FAQ section here. As I recall, the site no longer claims 100% natural because there are prototypes out there from when Beth was experimenting with aldehydes. None of those have been released, but they exist, so it's safer just to leave off the 100% natural claim. Ihave no failed enabling stories. I will now report my own post so the Mods can move this digression to the proper place.

Count me as another one who gets nothing but something harsh and sharp (not quite nail polish remover, but close enough that I thought I'd quote Wwindy's review) from this blend. I'm thinking it may be the combination of sage and the particular musk used, as there is no precedent whatsoever for frankincense or currents to go this way on my skin. I have tried Coxcomb three times since receiving it about a month ago, and it isn't getting any smoother. Love the other two in the set, but cannot in any way wear this one - layered with the others it just ruins them for me.

I'm not sure what folks are finding "sweet" about this blend; on me it's very dry and almost harsh - clove (which I usually love), patchouli (I also love) and balsam (don't have strong feelings one way or the other) with a harsh touch of saffron (which I do not love, but was hoping would be a minor player in this blend). The frankincense (another favorite note) comes out a little later and sweetens things up a tad (frankincense on me is rich, spicy incense with a faintly sweet tinge), but is strangely reticent. I get no orris, and I've forgotten what costus storax is supposed to smell like. I love incense scents, and I thought this would be spicy incense, but it's fairly harsh on me. I do like it, and I don't. It's very dry and masculine on me, thus not something I will wear often, but it might layer well with something with lotus or honey in it. I'll have to see about that. I'll see how this ages. At the moment I'm really disappointed.

A whisper of pear, then pure white musk, which is a non scent on my skin. Nothing but a faintly soapy smell like I took a shower with Ivory or something similar and didn't rinse well enough.

I don't generally buy backups of anything any more - I have so much BPAL that unless I went nuts with linen spray, lotion bars, and bath melts, I won't have gone through half of what I have now by the time I die. So most of the time if I have an impulse to buy extra of something I'm glad, in retrospect, that I didn't listen to the little voice. With Strawberry Moon 2009...not so much. This is very true-to-life Summer where little wild strawberries grow in fields (my father's parents' farm in New Brunswick, say), so when you winkle them out from their hiding places your fingers smell like grass and dandylions as well as the strawberries (tiny bombs of super intense flavor and scent, waiting to explode in your mouth, needing no dressing up with whipped cream and sponge cake, or even milk and sugar). I get a little sugar later, and some vanilla, which just makes the dry down less transparant than the early stages, which are all fresh growing things with lots of juice and sap. The strawberry does peek-a-boo throughout; just like the wee wild berries hidden in the field. It's beautiful, completely unlike any strawberry perfume I've ever encountered, absolutely perfect. Makes me smell as though I've been out exploring between the house and the river, and come home with my sundress pockets full of the berries I didn't eat right on the spot. I feel I should check in the mirror for stains around my mouth. I may actually go looking for a backup bottle.

Lots of round, golden-green, pulpy bamboo (I amp it, but I love it, so that is never a problem) right off the bat. Something refreshingly, greenly citrus and something rather grassy join the bamboo after a very short while. Dry down is more bamboo and grass (palm?) with a brush of citrus, which I guess must be how my skin renders hibiscus. Very tropical and perfect for the 88-degree, somewhat humid weather we have been having this week by the San Francisco Bay. Lasted longer than I expected; four hours or so during the hottest part of the day.

I bought a bottle of Tupapau unsniffed last year when it came out because I was pretty sure it would work for me, but I was doing chemotherapy at the time and not wearing any scent at all ('way sensitive to everything, and not liking anything much), and I sort of forgot about this and the other two Flotsam blends I picked up, after sniffing them and deciding I had made good choices. It's in the 80s today, though, and will be nearly 90 tomorrow, and it seemed like a good time to break out the tropical goodness. Lovely florals, not too sweet, more like breezes from the shore than leis around the neck. The moss lays down a nice clean almost bamboo base, and the sandalwood does its slightly dusty but sweetly aromatic thing, mixing with the flowers to make an understated blend that is very light and works wonderfully on a hot, sticky day. I don't want my perfume to sit in a cloud around me; I'm having enough problems feeling crowded because of the heat; when I move, the gentle wafts I get of tropical sweet and green are just perfect. If I had more than one bottle of this I'd make a body spray out of it and some formulator's alcohol, for cooling purposes. I love this , even though I need to reapply after about three hours, which is unusual for me. Sandalwood often does that sort of fade on me, though.

Snake Oil Series CCCXI (311) At first I think the citrusy top note is lemon oil, but once on, it quickly goes more creamy than lemon oil (which I love the scent of) does, and I think it must be lemon flower, instead. On the dry down I get more and more a neroli sense, though, so now I'm seriously not sure. If it's just neroli, it's the sweetest, smoothest neroli I have ever encountered when first on, so I'm thinking there are some other notes that have very short lives on my skin that I get at the very beginning, but the dry down is totally Snake Oil and neroli (I amp neroli, and I get it as a slightly bitter citrus scent, a little rough rather than smooth and creamy). Oddly, I really like this, even though I think I would have adored SO and lemon blossom. The neroli/citrus helps to modify the aggressiveness of the red musk in SO, which by me is a good thing, and allows the vanilla to sweeten things up without being cloying. I like this, wonder how it will age (I prefer aged SO usually, because the musk backs down and the patch smooths out), and intend to wear it as is and through the aging process. Very nice!

Dorian Series CCLXXXV (285) Oh, YUM! This is Dorian, all right, with a huge helping of spice; sweet clove mostly, but I think some allspice in there, too. Almost smells like cinnamon (not cassia, which is more harsh and less sweet), but I know they didn't use cinnamon in the Chaoses, so I'm going with sweet clove, allspice, and maybe one of the gingers, too. Whichever spices they are, they seem to cut the aggressive musk that I generally don't like about Dorian, leaving the vanilla, tea, and lemony notes to mix, mingle, and smooth everything out into spicy wearability. Not a lot of throw or staying power, but I'm guessing this will get a little stronger as the elements marry. I like it very much.

LXXIV (74) I have worn this twice, and as nearly as I can make out it's just Dorian and a little ginger root. Of course, because I don't really like Dorian I don't have any handy to compare (I love Lilith Victoria, against all expectations, so I thought I'd take a chance on a Dorian Chaos blend or two), but first on I get a tremendous wet hit of very butch musk (which is why I don't like regular Dorian -- the musk is pervasive and bordering on obnoxious, with my chemistry, and I don't want to smell like over-excited boy, thank you. ). After a minute or two it's sort of gingerbread musk, but not that gingery, really; almost not enough to say this is different from the way I remember Dorian smelling. The rest is true to Dorian form - fades very quickly and randomly belches out another small cloud of manly musk long after I thought it had got down to the faintest vanilla sweetness. Oh, well, you win some, you don't win some. Maybe this will get more interesting and less butch with a little age on it.

Lotus and honey! Honey and Lotus! Honey, honey, honey! That's pretty much the way The Lotus Tree goes on my skin. I love it. Both lotus and honey are notes with a good deal of complexity, to my nose, and they are naturals to blend, seems to me; the honey, which tends to be musky and less than sweet on me, keeps the lotus sweetness under control, and the lotus adds a round, high sweet fruity-floral note to the honey. The overall effect is of a very deep, rich Oriental blend, more an evening scent than an office blend, I think (I tested it at work today, and while I wasn't uncomfortable, I did think it would have been more at home in the lobby bar of a theater than standing at the photocopier. Still, I have enjoyed The Lotus Tree all the way through the fade, which has taken several hours -- my wrists smell faintly of musky honey and something smooth, fainly sweet, and opaque. This is really beautiful. I suspect there is a bottle in my future.

LXXIX (79) Snake Oil and musky honey. Maybe a little balsamic something as well, but primarily SO and honey. Somehow the honey seems to offset the red musk, with my chemistry, for which I am grateful -- I usually can't wear new SO because red musk hates me and wants me dead. This is very carnal. Very nice. And you just know this is going to age splendidly, as well.

St. Paddy's Day scent -- what else but Singing Moon, which has aged into something absolutely beautiful. Edited because I can't type.

I was a little worried about the cedar, since the Lab's cedar note can amp on me something fierce, but this is more sandalwood with a cedar-y edge than CEDAR, and I love sandalwood without reservation. The herbs don't do more than freshen the dryness of the woods, a bit, with my chemistry. I suppose it might be thought of as a masculine scent, but I used to wear pure sandalwood oil, and what I get is a close to the skin, calm, quiet scent I think I'll reach for quite often. I think Bony Moon will age beautifully, and that it will strengthen and improve in wear length as the various components marry.

Somewhat plasticy chocolate (I'm sorry it's this note, and not the cocoa note the lab uses; this one always goes wrong on me), heavy burnt sugar, then a quick morph into artificial smoke flavoring, where it pretty much stays. Oh, no, I tell a lie; the plastic comes back strongly to mix with the smoke. Very unfortunate chemical interractions going on here. I'm hoping everyone else has better luck.

A sort of clove-y, ginger-y, frankincense-y blend. It doesn't change much on my skin, and it isn't terribly strong. Warm and spicy. Love it while it lasts!

In the Imp: Seven-Up! On skin: A little more lemon, a little less lime, but effervescent, citrus, and refreshing. Dry: Pretty much the same. It doesn't last long, but it's really very pleasant and sort of fun. Fizzy lemonade.

Wow. I was worried about the red musk, but it turns out that was silly... Fresh on I get a wet hit of mandarin and red musk (love the mandarin, dislike red musk intensely), then the white musk kicks in, swamps all the other notes, and disappears, just like it does in lighter mixtures. I really thought the other notes in this one would be able to stand up to white musk, but I am sitting here with a very expensive bottle of nothing much in the way of scent. I guess I've finally learned my lesson regarding white musk. I can smell like this for a whole lot less money; good basic unscented soap will do it.

From beginning to end, I smell like Maypo -- maple flavored oatmeal. That's it. No molasses, no apples, no carrots, no hay, no wood, no musk. Maypo.

This is a question only the Lab can answer, so you should send them an e-mail with the suggestion, to make sure the right people see it.

I got this version because it didn’t have any listed fruit components. Apple blossom doesn’t smell like the fruit, to me. I’ve gotten very tired of the fruity chocolate tone of several of the 13s, and was excited to see one that might not be quite so…sweet and juicy. This 13 does go through stages, but in general it’s the overall impression that stays with me. The floral notes pop in and out, mostly in the throw, but underneath them, closer to the skin, lies cocoa incense, which has to be the combination of the dark chocolate, frankincense, spices, tea, tonka and sandalwood. I love it! The final dry down, a few hours later, is basically white chocolate, which I find cocoa-buttery and bland to the point of being boring (not a fan of white chocolate scent, can you tell? ), but not unwearable; it just smells like I just applied some “natural” hand lotion, and I can live with that until I have a chance to reapply.

I was worried about the cardamom, which is often overpowering and harsh-verging-on-acrid on my skin, but because all the other notes sounded so yummy, I had to try Hay Moon. I applied this within an hour of it hitting my front porch. No mellowing allowance made. Wet on skin: There’s the cardamom, but it’s not the olfactory sandpaper I’m used to; it’s a little dry and scratchy, but in a good way, and it’s very quickly folded into the amber and honey (which is in fact a dry honey – how does she do that?). I wouldn’t call the result sweet so much as thickly smooth. I don’t get verbena from this, but there is something that might be lemony to some noses; I’m just reading it as part of the grasses. The hay note is gorgeous, golden, and a beautiful compliment to the amber, which is smooth and rich and warm. The cardamom just adds a bit of completely acceptable spice to the mix. I think this is going to marry and age beautifully. Most of the hay I’ve spent lots of time around is alfalfa hay in bales, and that isn’t what I’m smelling in Hay Moon, but I do smell sweet dry grasses (and maybe a bit of clover) as well as the amber and honey, and it smells a lot the way hay fields look, anyway. This blend is beautiful, warm, natural, and close to the skin; it is among my favorite BPALs, let alone my favorite Lunacies. Wear length on me is average (2 – 3 hours, ending with almost no throw).

4th of July: Midway/Midway Resurrected (I still have most of my bottle of the original, as I haven't tended to wear it often). It's not exact, because it doesn't smell of hot dogs and hamburgers and bar-b-que sauce (thank heaven! ), but it's still, to my nose, appropriate to the spirit of the holiday as celebrated by many of us in the States, and sort of ushers in the season of county and state fairs, too. If I had Agnes Nutter I would prolly layer some for the fireworks. Something with strawberries would work, too, thinking along the lines of seasonal celebrations -- strawberry shortcake shows up on most picnic and pot luck tables this time of year. I don't know what BPALs that would be, although Bloody Mary has lots of red fruits and some cream, yes? And doesn't one of the DCs smell like strawberries and cream? The Doll Woman? Me and names... Canada Day: I guess it depends on where in Canada you are. If you're on the prairies (my mother's mother's family homesteaded a ranch near Calgary after moving from Halifax), Coyote would work well, seems to me. If you live in the Maritimes or on the west coast, any of the salty aquatics, perhaps; Vinland (discontinued), for sure. For the forested areas, try Bewitched layered with Black Forest -- woods plus berries? Any and all of the western-themed winter Lunacies (the most recent Wolf Moon springs to mind). Arkham reminds me very much of the part of the countryside I know in New Brunswick, in early summer.