lady_pandora

Hee, I love how we're all posting the Heroine scents in all caps because we're copy/pasting them from the site. I was doing the same thing on my LJ. Congratulations to Beth on coming up with blends I can't spell!

Les Bijoux, definitely. Now that I've tried it, I recommend it wholeheartedly.

Hymn to Proserpine is a good match, at least on me.

I wore Les Bijoux to the family gathering. Both because I wanted the yummy apple goodness and because I can say the name of it in polite company.

Sin, Anne Bonny, Sed Non Satiata.

I'm beginning to wonder if I'm developing more of a tolerance for aquatic/ozone notes. Initially, they all gave me a headache. Over the past few months, I've found a few aquatic blends that don't. And with Penthus, I've finally found one where the aquatic note does what it's supposed to do--which is make me smell like water. This is a very good thing because I love all those candles, etc., that smell like "Rain" and have been saddened by the thought that I couldn't wear things like that as perfume. I get mostly the aquatic note, with a slight undertone of rose that vanishes after half an hour or so. In the throw, it's pretty much all aquatic. And it's lovely. It's reminiscent of tears, yes, and is a little melancholy. But it also makes me think of a gentle rain. Pardon the personal woo-woo stuff, but I've always found rain comforting when I'm in emotional pain; it's almost like it infuses me with power and gives me strength. Or maybe it really does. So this is not just the scent of sorrow to me, but also represents the way sorrow yields to--if not happiness--a wistful sort of acceptance. It's lovely, and I must thank Beth for creating a "rainy" blend that I can wear.

This is a very elegant, gentlemanly cologne. Oddly, I get mostly lavender from it, plus a little bit of what I assume is the moss, and between the two of them, they smell slightly minty on me. The reason this is odd is because my skin seems to have forgotten it's supposed to amp amber. Definitely a masculine blend, but it's one I can wear without feeling like I've doused myself in aftershave or slathered on Speed Stick. Yay for a sophisticated masculine blend without vetiver!!! Emotional impression: I feel like it's good for clearing your head. It feels like a blend that would be good to wear when you need to do something intellectual. If I were still in college, I might wear it to take exams. Lots of BPAL blends (and oh, how I love 'em) center you in your body and envelop you in intoxicating sensuality. Saint-Germain is the opposite; it centers you in your head.

This turns to 90% patchouli and 10% sandalwood within minutes on my skin, with the rose vanishing as rose tends to do on me. This is a very earthy, almost musty patchouli. It doesn't smell bad per se. (I'm not at that time of the month when patchouli turns to rancid garbage smell on me.) But I rarely feel the urge to smell that strongly and that exclusively of patchouli. And for those days when I want a patch/sandalwood blend, I have Anne Bonny, which balances better on my skin and smells more like a 50/50 mix of the two notes. Sadly, I don't think this one is "me."

Golden Priapus starts out with juniper and pine dominating the blend. It smells sort of medicinal and sort of camphor-ish. As it dries down, my amber-loving skin chemistry amps up the amber to eclipse the juniper and pine. The camphory note is still there, but the golden quality of the amber is the predominant note. I'm not sure if this scent is "me," but I do like it, and I think it would smell even better on a guy. Then I start getting Play-Doh. I don't particularly want to smell like Play-Doh, and I've put way too much on anyway, so I go to wash it off. Big mistake. I apparently washed off all of the notes except Play-Doh. I try to wash my wrist 5 or 6 times with no success, and I don't have any alcohol handy. Still Play-Doh and amping like whoa. I doubt that I can inspire anyone to any sort of priapism while smelling like Play-Doh. I'm going to end up making all the guys reminisce about their childhoods instead. After I wait out this scent for about 5 hours, it starts wafting O at me. WTF? I do like this final O-ish stage, but if I want to smell like O, I'll just wear O and skip the camphor and the Play-Doh.

OMG YES. Death on a Pale Horse was strong enough on me to kill, well, a pale horse. You could smell it from a mile away. I couldn't seem to wash it off, either.

I second the mention of Bengal; it's much spicier than O, but it has the same yummy honey note. Also Jezebel might be up your alley. And Regan--no honey in that, at least according to the site, but on me it was very honeyish.

I've heard that Lyonesse is close. Which is why I'm coveting Lyonesse at the moment. I had not thought about comparing the two - I would say that Underpants is thicker and more syrupy to me, whereas Lyonesse is lighter, a little more perfumy than foody in nature. But Lyonesse is absolutely gorgeous regardless of whether you like or dislike Underpants! I think everyone should try it, and vanilla fans will especially love it. Oh, and another one for Underpants fans. This may sound odd, but Hymn to Proserpine. It has a very similar sandalwood. I thought I was on crack for thinking they were similar, but there are 3 or 4 other reviews saying the same thing.

I wait until I went to work today to give this one a proper testing. Why? Because my boyfriend hates it. I put it on last night and he was "ew"ing in about ten seconds. This is not a slam against Beth. The BF hates flavored coffee, you see. Fortunately, I am not afflicted with this problem. Right out of the bottle, this is very buttery. It settles down into the aroma you get when you brew hazelnut coffee. I don't know why I'm getting hazelnut and not Irish cream, but there you have it. You know how flavored coffee never tastes as good as it smells? This is the smell of flavored coffee brewing. Which is a scent I love so much I could use it as incense. As Misk U dries, the scent close to my wrist remains coffee. There's a slight burnt note there as well. But the throw is something else entirely--the coffee note isn't detectable, and instead I get the exact scent of my mom's seven-layer cookies. It's sort of butterscotchy, sort of sugary, sort of nutty, sort of coconutty. I like it, and it's a very nostalgic scent this time of the year. This is reminiscent enough of Christmas that I may not have the urge to wear it as much at other times of the year, plus there's the boyfriend-hating-it problem, so I probably won't end up buying a big bottle of it. But I will definitely be savoring the imp!

When I first put this on, I get a brief, sharp citrus note. Apple appears next, with maybe a slight hint of honey rounding it out. It dries down to a blend of spicy apple with a sort of woodiness to it. It actually makes me think of my grandmother's potpourri. I don't mean that in a bad way; it's a powerful and comforting scent memory. Though it doesn't have much in common with the naughty poem that inspired the blend. Over the course of the day it actually does become sexy. It takes a while for the honey to arrive on the scene, but when it does, it's gorgeous. Between the honey and apple on my arm, I want to lick my wrist. Just yum. The throw is mostly fruity with a sort of fresh, shampooy scent. I love it. Edit, six years later. What has happened with aging Les Bijoux is that the apple note is nearly gone. I get mainly peach, honey, and orange blossom. It feels like a close sister to Jezebel now. I think I love it even more now, and I have roughly fifty gallons of Poisoned Apple (another favorite) for my apple needs. Another edit, oil aged 8 years: frankincense has really stepped forward. It's frankincense/apple/peach/something vaguely spicy. And still lovely.

Wet: Red Hots. Drydown: Still very heavy on the cinnamon, with a tiny hint of red fruits underneath. This may be the pomegranate. It may also be the dragon's blood, which sometimes goes fruity. An hour later: Still mostly cinnamon, though the dragon's blood is now rearing its head with a juicy, almost fruity smell. Two hours: Patchouli has arrived to smack down everything else. Where's my cinnamon! It's not a bad patchouli, really, but it's a little musty on my skin and I've lost the rest of the notes.

This was a frimp from the Lab. Thanks Lab! During the first few minutes, I can't make out the notes in this at all. I mean, I can smell it, but I can't pick out and recognize anything. Old Scratch then dries down to something that reminds me of spice cookies. Did you know that the Devil smelled like spice cookies? "Come to the dark side. We have cookies." A little while later, the amber appears, in its baby-powder incarnation. Which is weird, because usually amber doesn't go all baby-powderish on me. There's also something vaguely citrusy. The evil cookies also stick around. I'm not entirely sure what I think of this one. I think it's one to try again at another time.

My skin is on crack. I'm getting orange. The orange starts out sharp and sour and then mellows down and becomes sweeter. Jasmine appears then, along with something vaguely incensey. The overall effect is a very close sibling to Forbidden Fruit. This is one to save for the summertime. Update, October 23, 2007 I'm currently on a mission to retry my underappreciated imps, which is about the only thing that appeases me when I'm waiting for a new order. Today, it was Siren's turn for a second chance. I don't know if it's the aging of the oil, a change in my nose, or what, but I'm not getting the oranginess or sourness I got last year. I'm definitely getting apricot as the dominant note, and it's so true and so juicy that I can almost feel the flesh of the fruit breaking between my teeth. Vanilla lurks just below the surface to round it out and tip it over to the "warm" side rather than the "cool." Ginger adds a bit of spice. Surprisingly, I can't really smell jasmine. Usually jasmine amps on me, but here it isn't making much of an appearance at all. Overall, this is quite lovely, reminiscent of spiced fruit, and much more "autumnal" than my first impression indicated. I'm also curious how it would layer with Bengal. I like this more and more as the day wears on. It might almost console me for being nearly out of my favorite spiced-fruit scent (Haunted Palace). It don't know that it really says "siren" to me (a cold, aquatic scent would fit the name more, in my head), but it definitely says YUMMMMMMM.

Right out of the bottle this is straight grape kool-aid, with violet following shortly on its heels. Over the next few minutes, the grape calms down to a more realistic, natural grapey scent. It never gets "winey" in the way that, say, Lilith or Black Tower does. It's definitely still grapes! As it dries, the impression I get is of the violet and the grape rolling over and over each other. It feels like the good fairies from Sleeping Beauty are standing over my arm saying, "Make it grape!" "Make it violet!" I wish I'd gotten some myrrh out of Purple Phoenix, but I do like this scent. The grape adds a juiciness to the violet, which can often seem dry to me. The blend works very well and I agree with the reviewers who have called it sensual. I get the mental picture of a regal woman lounging on an elegant sofa, dressed in purple satin PJs and enjoying a glass of wine and a good book. ETA: This is another one of those that seems more complex a few days later, when my "Squee! I have new BPAL" mood wears off and I'm not trying to test 10 scents at once. Wore it all by itself for the first time yesterday, and it's even better than I'd thought it was. And yes, Virginia, there is myrrh! The dominant notes at first *are* the grape and violet notes, with myrrh underneath and surfacing more as time passes, until about six hours later myrrh is dominant with the other two notes hanging around in the background. This is definitely regal. I'm thinking of ancient queens--Cleopatra, Dido, Semiramis. This is lovely.

Persephone/Proserpine is my patron goddess, I love this poem, I love most amber blends, so I definitely got my hopes up into the stratosphere for this one. As I awaited its arrival, I decided that there was no way it could live up to how good I thought it would be. I was sure that, whatever it smelled like, I would be disappointed. I was WRONG. Oh, sweet Goddess, I was wrong! *weeps for joy* Everything blends so well in this that I'm having trouble picking out notes. The amber doesn't dominate the blend like I'm used to; it cooperates with the other notes and gives a golden warmth to the blend. The fruits are lovely--there's a little wine I think, and a little bit of something almost candyish, which is probably pomegranate. Pomegranate is often kind of candyish on me. There's also a bizarre resemblance to Monster Bait: Underpants in the background, which says to me that sandalwood lurks somewhere hereabouts. That's what sandalwood usually does on me: it never amps to the point that I can actually pick it out, just adds an extra dose of warmth and golden richness to the proceedings. It doesn't change much over time; it loses a bit of the candy note and gains a slight powderiness, but not in a bad way. Elegant, womanly, sensual as all hell. If Persephone (the oil) is Persephone (the goddess) in her Maiden aspect, HtP is Persephone as Queen. And if she smells like this, no wonder Pluto carried her off. OMG. This is seriously perfect. I have about 8 oils dotted up and down my arms, in various stages of drydown, and I still keep sticking my nose back into Hymn to Proserpine. This is beautiful and it's in love with my skin and it's me and I could really see this becoming a signature scent for me. I think if I made a Top Ten list right now, I'd put HtP in the first five slots and let the rest of the oils duke it out for the other 5. Seriously. The image that comes to mind is kind of odd, but here it is: I picture an attic, maybe a little dusty, with late afternoon sunlight glancing through a small high window, with the dust motes dancing in the beam. I've found an antique gown up there, dusty rose, and it belonged to some long-forgotten ancestress of mine. I put it on and it fits perfectly. (I have an overactive imagination, what can I say?) I feel beautiful and sophisticated and timeless in this oil. I love it. Its only flaw is that it doesn't have a lot of throw. Big bottle. Stat. Because there will be slathering. Oh, yes, there will be slathering. ETA: There's more sandalwood a few hours after applying. And I am not complaining at all. Have I mentioned that I adore this scent? ETA #2: I tried to wear this every day for the first week after my order arrived, and every single time, I got a splitting headache. I even had a headache the first time I tried it, but I chalked it up to sensory overload; I'd tried a lot of oils that day and figured I'd worn out my poor head! But the headache has happened enough times now that it can't be a coincidence. This sucks. I loved this oil so much.

Hamadryad, on me, smells like licking stamps. Over the course of an hour, it morphs from stamp glue to spearmint gum. My friend's bottle of this smells delightfully autumnal and not at all like stamp glue. The verdict: Age it and see what happens.

It's funny how BPAL oils have a way of finding you just when you need them. I'd actually tried Aeval before and been left with a bland, not-very-memorable impression--then again, I'd had about 8 other oils on my arm at the time. And if I've learned anything about BPAL over the last year and a half, it's that if you have 9 oils on your arm, you can't necessarily get an accurate impression of any of them... Fast forward to yesterday. I'd been angsting all week. Long story, but suffice it to say that I was pondering how to successfully integrate my sexual self with the part of myself that demands respect and dignity. I went to a party and gave two imps to a male friend, and he gifted me with an imp of Aeval. I hadn't actually expected this guy to give me anything. So I was thrilled about the freebie, naturally, and also thought Aeval was an excellent concept for me at the moment, considering the myth behind it. So I decided to give it another chance. Wet, Aeval is pretty much all sweet pea. It's very girly and sort of a clean, nice-body-wash sort of scent. After about an hour, musk rises to the surface, and I get a sexier vibe from it as the warm musk balances out the light girliness of the sweet pea. It takes about another hour for tonka to appear. When it does, it brings a lovely vanilla-esque aroma to the blend. It does mostly drown out the musk, but blends so well with the sweet pea that I don't mind much. The mixture of floral and vanilla is similar (though different, as it's different flowers) to the effect pf Le Serpent qui Danse on me, with the added bonus that unlike Le Serpent it lasts more than fifteen minutes. The scent continues as a warm, sensual, but not-overpowering sweet pea/tonka blend for about six hours on me. Throw is moderate. Then, just before it vanishes, it's all sweet pea again for one last second wind. I really like this one. It works well for the faery queen of the same name, I think, with the ethereal quality of the floral and the earthy, sexy quality of the musk and tonka. It's delicate yet dignified, sensual without being in-your-face. I think I'll wear it in spring, and whenever I feel the urge to get my regal temptress vibe on.

I concur that Forbidden Fruit is not at all apple-y. It's more orangey and lotusy. I do like it, but it's utterly apple-free. I haven't found a really appley scent yet, sorry! Brisingamen is kind of appley on me, but it's apple blossom, and the amber dominates it anyway.

I used to have very long hair, and when I did, I had a reputation for having the best-smelling hair in my circle of acquaintances. My secret: I'd braid it damp for work, then unbraid it after work, and it would release this lovely cloud of shampoo-smell into the general vicinity. How is this relevant? Because Baba Yaga smells exactly like fresh, clean, shampoo-y hair for about the first hour on me. It's amazing. Such a refreshing and "damp" scent, perfect for warmer weather. And the image is apt, because aren't witches supposed to be able to call up storms by unbraiding their hair? So, yay for the hair-unplaiting imagery I'm getting here. After about an hour, I think i'm getting vetiver. Uh-oh. Though I must say, this is the best-behaved vetiver I've ever met. It doesn't smell bad, really, just kind of heavy and dark and, well, vetiver-y. (Maybe vetiver needs its partner in crime, black patchouli, to reach its full potential for icky badness on my skin, lol.) Unfortunately, however, within a few minutes of vetiver's appearance, it completely drowns out the shampoo smell. It isn't bad but it's not "me," and I wish the shampoo would come back. It's just as well that I didn't fall in love with this one, I guess, seeing as how I only got to try it because someone was nice enough to let me play with her imp of it!

I can't pick out exactly what notes I'm smelling here, but the Apothecary gives me the mental picture of a garden wet with rain. I ought to order some of this before spring comes; it would be perfect for then. Lovely, fresh, and subtle.

From the bottle to my arm, from wet to dry, Yemaya is pretty much 100% watermelon bubble gum on my skin. I think it would make an excellent scent for the dog days of summer.