jencallisto

In the imp: Lavender, sharp and soft at the same time, somehow. Fresh on the skin: Whoa. A lot more complex. The lavender is still there, but it's much sweeter and deeper. I've got a rather perfumey, powdery rose, and a strong... something as a base. Maybe the musk? I still don't really understand what the various musks smell like. 5 minutes later: And oh, there, at the edge of the scent, there's the incensey frankincense. Yes. This is... a bit strong of a floral for me. I suppose the orchid might be why the floral smells so blended to me -- it's getting so I can't pick out the lavender or rose, it's just a kind of soft, sweet, slightly spicy floral melded with the musk and incense. 15 minutes later: Ahhhh. The rose is blooming on my skin, as I both expected and hoped. (It's convenient that I both love rose and amp rose.) This is sweet and heady, maybe a little more so than my ideal floral for fear of headache, but I'm guessing it's going to soften down beautifully. 40 minutes later: Oh wow. It's powdered down completely to a sweet, just a little incensey, rose-dominated floral, fairly delicate and quite nice. For some reason I keep thinking of Psyche as "pale." 2 hours later: Pale pink powder, and has been for awhile. This is quite nice, actually. Not super-compelling, maybe, and I think it's going to fade fast, but really very nice. It has an interesting beauty to it, both strong and delicate. 3.5 hours later: Completely gone. Verdict: Pretty nice, but disappeared quite fast. Not really me, but nice. One phrase: pale and pretty.

Note: This review is for Sugar Skull '06, acquired from the lovely lorajc. In the imp: Sweet, maybe slightly caramelized, maybe a little alcoholic. Fresh on the skin: Uh, wow. Thick, heady, crystalline sugar, but so fine that it's almost powder. Also mysteriously perfumey. 5 minutes later: Huh. I am at a loss as to how to describe this, besides "sweet." Because it's more than sweet, really. I get little hints of alcohol (or something else giving it that perfumely feel?) and caramel, but it's extremely light caramel. More like white sugar crystals just as their being toasted the lightest clear brown. I think I get a little of the maple syrup others have mentioned, but it's like it's extra fancy extra light grade AAA or something, just barely there. 10 minutes later: It's also got a bit of a powdery feel to it, overall. 15 minutes later: You know, I like this. It's warm and sweet, but not over the top sugary, and more complex than I'd feared. It's like white sugar, lightly toasted, then ground to powder, colored in pretty pastels and maybe given just a bit of other flavoring for depth, and formed to nifty shapes, skull or otherwise. 1 hour later: This is... nice. I wouldn't say I love it, but I do like it. Sweet and vaguely artificial, but not in a bad way. 3 hours later: Still going strong. This is going to sound wrong, but it smells a little stale to me, like sugar that was formed into a shape and baked, and then set out on someone's counter for forever and ever. This is a good thing, actually. Like it has history. 5 hours later: Pastel powdered sugar. 6 hours later: This is really thinning out. It wouldn't surprise me if it were effectively gone soon. 7 hours later: Totally and completely gone. Verdict: Nice, and I'll probably wear it occasionally, but I don't think I need more. One phrase: flavored pastel sugar.

White rose and honeyed cream. In the bottle: A slightly boozy sweet rose with a hint of orange. Fresh on the skin: Sweet, soft, like powdery rose candy 30 minutes later: Sugary creamy honeyed rose. Really insanely sweet. It reminds me of a rose-flavored milk tea with lychee jellies. 1 hour later: I think this would smell amazing in my hair. I don't know what it is about rose scents, but that's what I always want to do with them. This one would make the most delicious sweet, light cloud of rose. 2 hours later: Still strong, still gorgeous. 3 hours later: Huh. This is going a little sour, a little powdery. I think this may just be a monthly skin chemistry issue, though. 4 hours later: Chocolate? Really? Your powdered-down stage includes chocolate? Wacky. Though I guess it goes with the warming of the honey, in a way. Still with a definite rose flavor. 7 hours later: Huh. All gone. Verdict: Pure love. I'm not sure if I love it more or less than I love some other rose scents, but I do love it. The real question: to buy a backup bottle or not. One phrase: Honeyed rose.

In the imp: Pumpkin spices and citrus and alcohol Fresh on the skin: Huh. Mostly bright, fizzy citrus, with spiced pumpkin around the edges, dark and creamy. 5 minutes later: It really is bright, very yellow, and almost even green. Ah, that must be the parsley and mint. Fascinating. 10 minutes later: God, this is incredibly refreshing. The spiced pumpkin is barely there, but I'm pretty sure it's what's grounding this delightful yellow-green citrus, giving it an amazing depth. 20 minutes later: It's calming down and blending together into something extremely unusual and incredibly delicious. I am seriously in love with this. 1 hour later: Still amazing. It's staying quite true to green-yellow citrus blended with creamy spiced pumpkin. Lovely. 2 hours later: This is so weird, and so delicious. It has pretty decent throw, still, too. 3 hours later: The citrus has faded some, so mostly it's sweet, light, spiced pumpkin with hints of yellow and green. Really nice. 4 hours later: Faded down some more to a really soft, warm spiced pumpkin. 5 hours later: Light, sweet, faded pumpkin. 6 hours later: Extremely faded, but still just barely present. 7 hours later: Gone. Verdict: Gorgeous. Not necessarily in a way I need to. smell like all the time, but it's unique and quite delicious. One phrase: yellow-green citrus pumpkin

In the imp: A sharp floral, quite soapy. Fresh on the skin: Very soapy indeed, with the florals still fairly sharp. Like kitchen cleanser and baby powder, not a particularly enjoyable combination. 5 minutes later: It's picked up a little sweetness, but it's still eye-wateringly astringent to me. I kind of hate this. 10 minutes later: I keep hoping this will calm down, but I think it's just getting worse. It had a damp, wet intensity to it, like you're being smothered and drowned in a pungent bath of too many flowers. Er. Can you tell I'm not so much a floral person? 20 minutes later: Yeah, I'm afraid this is turning into rather horribly strong floral soap on me, heavy and damp and piercingly oppressive, like endless, insistent sorrow. The clean kind. 40 minutes later: Okay, this has calmed down some and become a bit more sweet and powdery. I still wouldn't say that I like it, and it's threatening to give me a headache, but I no longer actually hate it. 1 hour later: It's possible that this is growing on me. There's a sweet creaminess at the very base of it that's starting to balance out the astringency, though I do think there's still a bit of salty aquatic. 2 hours later: Fragrant in a way I just don't like very much, I'm afraid. I don't hate it, but. 3 hours later: It briefly became more bitter, but I think it's powdered down to something relatively sweet and innocuous, but still not really me at all. 4 hours later: It's powdered down even more now, but I will say that this stage is actually reasonably pleasant, though with a lingering bittersweet laundry-ness about it. 5 hours later: This has gone completely laundry, rather strong. Could be worse. 6 hours later: Laundry, laundry, laundry. 8 hours later: Laundry, still strong, and not especially pleasant. 11 hours later: Just the gentlest whiff of warm, sweet laundry on my wrist. It's a pleasant smell compared to the Nanshe on my other wrist, anyway. Verdict: Yeah, not so much. I guess I don't hate it, but nor did I actually like it. I might try it again at a different time of the month, but I don't expect too much. Even if I did like it, it's so very not me that it may be a moot point. But we'll see. It's too bad, because I really liked the idea of it, and so when it showed up as a frimp I was excited to try it. Ah well. One phrase: oppressively damp floral soap.

In the imp: Wow, that's some serious lilac and honeysuckle, there. Fresh on the skin: Yeah. It has a bit of a commercial floral perfume sharp alcoholic base, but I have hope that that'll fade away soon. I think there's probably jasmine in this, too. It's like a burst of Asian garden, lush but also delicate. Bit strong for me at the moment, but I'm not a huge floral person, so. 5 minutes later: This is reminding of something specific, but I can't for the life of me think of what. Maybe some bath salts my mom used to have. 15 minutes later: No, no, it's something from my childhood. Something pleasant. But what? It's turned into a rather lovely scent, in any case. A really delicate, sweet, soft floral that nonetheless retains a distinctive bite to it, probably the jasmine. I'm actually starting to really like it. 1 hour later: Still haven't thought of what it's reminding me of, but the scent is really quite lovely. 2 hours later: I keep thinking it's going to go all laundry on me, but it hasn't happened yet. It's powdered down some, but is still sweet and light and the tiniest bit spicy. This is just _pretty_, in a classic yet unusual and wonderfully delicate way. 3 hours later: Still absolutely lovely, soft and powdery. 4 hours later: Fading out. 5 hours later: But not yet gone. 6 hours later: Still there, very faint and dry, almost papery. 7 hours later: Soft and warm, but still there, and still lovely. 8 hours later: Lighter and lighter. 9 hours later: Gone. I miss it already! Verdict: Wow! I actually really liked this a whole lot. It's a double joy to get a frimp that you never would've picked yourself but that turns to be lovely. I don't know how often I'd actually wear it (light spring and summer florals are not exactly me), but I do quite like it and am definitely keeping the imp. One word: nostalgia.

In the imp: Light lemon tea. Fresh on the skin: Lemon soap. A little sweet, a little lemongrassy, a lot soapy. Dishsoap more than bar soap. Quite gentle. Smells almost a little like dentist's office when I get really close to the wrist. 10 minutes later: I think I like the waft a little more than I like the central scent -- a bright, soft, clean lemon versus the bitterness that seeps in. Maybe I'm just suggestible, but I'm imagining bitter lemon oil getting massaged into smooth, stiff, sturdy black leather. I still wish I knew what was making it go all dishsoapy and dentist's office-y, though. 30 minutes later: Um. Wow. Sense memory has just taken me back, like, 18 years, to lying back in the reclining chair in my orthodontist's office, waiting for the next horribly painful thing he's going to do to my teeth. And, oh, being in those same sorts of chairs in my dentist's office in the same complex, only with the addition of the distinctly disturbing feeling of biting down on one of those gooshy fluoride treatments, hoping that it'll be done soon so that they take this stuff out of my mouth. Ahahaha. I mean, if you go by Little Shop of Horrors, dentists are basically sadists, so perhaps this is really just more accurate than I ever expected it to be. I mean, who would expect to ever have something that precisely replicated the scent of their childhood dentist's office? Ahahaha. I am not at all sure how I feel about this, as you can probably tell by the nervous laughter. But it is extremely interesting, in any case. 1 hour later: Huh. This has gone a lot softer, and lost quite a bit of its astringency. It's actually become a reasonably nice lemon-leather blend. 2 hours later: It appears to have stabilized to this soft lemon-leather. Not bad at all. 3 hours later: Though it's still basically lemon soap, however else I try to think of it. 4 hours later: We've faded down to vaguely lemony laundry. 6 hours later: Basically gone. Verdict: Not so fond of the dentist office stage. The later lemon-leather and lemony laundry stages were all right, though. Not exciting, but reasonably nice. I had been really hoping for more (that is, any) Earl Grey with this. Alas. One phrase: lemon dishsoap.

In the imp: Pure Irish cream, nutty and boozy and delicious. Fresh on the skin: Bright, creamy, sweet Irish coffee. And something a bit darker to the edge of it -- maybe the dust and oak, a bit moulderly. I love the Irish coffee, but I'm not sure how I feel about the moldy edge. 5 minutes in: Mmm. The waft is really nice, Irish coffee exactly. And the moldy bit is starting to turn into mildewy old pages, which is at least a bit of an improvement. 15 minutes in: This is doing a similar thing to gluttony, giving me a sort of sugary tickle in the back of my throat. Plus I'm still having very mixed feelings about the mildew. 1 hour later: This is so close to amazing. And then there's that icky, bitter note that gives me that "you're allergic to this" feeling of involuntary revulsion. It's not too strong, but it's definitely there. 2 hour later: This is fading, which is probably good. It's so weird. I really like it, and yet I really don't. Kind of fascinating. 2.5 hours later: You know, as long as I don't press my nose to my wrist I actually mostly like it. It's like a cup of Irish coffee sitting on a desk, forgotten long ago by its researching owner, slightly chilled from the drafty room and with a layer of dust settled across the top. 3 hours later: Powdering down to a dusty vanilla. 4 hours later: Faded vanilla candle with a hint of dusty Irish mocha. 5 hours later: Huh. Mocha. Nice. Basically no throw by now, though. 6 hours later: Still mocha. Yay. 7 hours later: Hazelnut mocha. 9 hours later: Irish coffee linger. Verdict: I really expected to like this. And it's so frustrating how much I did like it... except for that wisp of mildewy ick that didn't really go away for hours. I enjoyed the long mocha linger a lot, but 3 hours of musty edge is a bit much to endure for that. I'm allergic to both dust mites and mold, so perhaps I'm just oversensitive to related smells. And yet I love libraries. Though admittedly, from the Cthulhu mythos perspective, they're rather dangerous and probably not very well kept. I'm probably going to keep this and try it again later. Maybe it'll age or my chemistry will change just enough that suddenly it works all the way through. *fingers crossed* One phrase: musty Irish coffee.

In the imp: Warm and golden. A bit of cinnamon, a bit of sweet. Fresh on the skin: The same, plus soap. But a nice soap. Golden and a little spicy and maybe a little grassy. Nice. 40 minutes later: Hrm. I think I might be mildly allergic to this. Maybe it's the grasses. But it's making my nose tickle and my eyes feel strange, and I think I can feel a headache coming on. 3.5 hours later: Cinnamon gold, still a little soapy, but it's a soap that I'd like to smell like. I like this. 9 hours later: Unsurprisingly, laundry, fading fast. But a reasonably nice, sweet, warm laundry. Verdict: I'm not usually a huge fan of smelling like soap, but I actually quite liked this. I believe I'll be trying it again, and I expect I'll keep enjoying it. One phrase: golden cinnamon soap.

In the imp: LIME. In cocktail form, a little fizzy. Fresh on the skin: Very tropical. Like a lime-coconut scratch and sniff sticker, fragrant in a lush, slightly odd way -- perhaps that's the florals. 5 minutes later: This is weird. The florals are really taking it beyond your usual coconut-lime scent... I'm just not sure how I feel about the direction. It smells... evil. Which makes very little sense, except for how well it goes with the name. Kind of musty. I think there's some note in here that's going strange on me, but damned if I know which one it is. 20 minutes later: Yeah. I just... don't like this. It's so close to something I'd love, except there's something sort of rank about it. Hrm. 1 hour later: Um. This is starting to smell like soap. Vaguely floral, maybe a little lime still, but basically all soap, sharp and tingly and strong. Urgh. 5 hours later: Okay, I've tried to wash this off twice, but still, soap. I suspect I'll even get soap when I wake up in the morning. It's not the most unpleasant thing ever, but. Not something I am particularly interested in smelling like. Verdict: I think I amp the wrong things for me in this one. I might try it again one more time, or I may just drop it in the swap pile. It's a pity, because I usually really like lime and coconut together. Ah well. One word: soap.

In the imp: Red, red wine, with florals hovering across the top and a chocolatey center. Fresh on the skin: A little sweet, a little bitter, very complex, florals in a strong dark musky base. 5 minutes later: Whoa, that's where the red wine went. It's all on the throw. Nice. I'm really liking this. It's fascinating and intense, heady but not at all threatening a headache. 10 minutes later: And, oh, this is interesting. In my hair I can really smell the rose, light and delicious and with just a touch of complexity. I knew my skin amped rose, but I didn't realize my hair does, too. Huh. Luckily, I like it. And the scent on my wrist is staying fully complex. 30 minutes later: This has moved into nose-tickling territory. It's now a rose-based floral with a red wine foundation, like fresh-cut flowers floating in a glass goblet of wine. Sweet but not too sweet, and an odd combination of delicate and strong. I like this very much, as long as the nose-tickling doesn't get worse. 2 hours later: This has gone a lovely soft mostly-rose, but the foody parts are starting to come through just a touch -- I can finally detect the honey and chocolate. I really adore this. 3 hours later: Oh, oh wow. This has gone a little fruity to go with the chocolate, honey, red wine, and rose. Perhaps it's the osmanthus, as the osmanthus tea I've had has this sweet, almost lychee-like delightful delicate fruitiness to it. Basically, it smells like what I always thought the ambrosia of the Greek gods would taste like. Only possibly better. It's appearance has pushed Kali up into the category of the truly divine, especially as the creamy honey just keeps coming out more to go with it. Wow. And the throw is still quite good, and utterly lovely. I am so in love with this creamy honey osmanthus rose wine thing that Kali has become. 4 hours later: Still that, soft and sweet and delectable. 5 hours later: And still; I think it's gone a little more rose again. So, so good. 6.5 hours later: Whoops. Abrupt shift to laundry, alas, and rapidly fading. But pretty nice laundry, anyway, with a hint of rose and wine. Verdict: I seriously adore this. It's a morpher, but I loved all the stages (well, except for maybe the laundry, but even that's pretty nice), which is unusual -- often I tend to like the beginning or the end more, but this is just fantastic all the way through. Magnificent. Two words: Complex, delectable.

In the imp: I'm not sure how it's possible for this to be sharp and syrupy and earthy all at once, but it totally is. Each time I sniff I think something different. Fresh on the skin: It's strange how decadent it smells, given that Apollo is the god of moderation. I can definitely smell the wine in this, slightly sour, honey-sweet, and extremely heady. It also strikes me as slightly floral at the edges, the sweet syrupy kind, which surprises me given that there aren't any listed in the notes. 20 minutes later: Zeus, this is strong. I think the waft is giving me a headache, and close the wrist there's a sharp perfumey herbal soap thing happening. Golden sour-sweet syrupy wine, and a lot of it. 40 minutes later: It's reminding me of something really specific, but I just can't think of it. It goes surprisingly well with the lilac linger in the air of the Dragon's Blood I tried earlier, given that I'm so far not super fond of either of them separately. 1 hour later: I have no idea how this is as floral as it is on me. I'm getting pretty much all fragrant, syrupy honey wine a generous splash of rosewater, mayyyyybe with a bit of incense powdering down in the back. 3 hours later: Still all heady honey wine and rosewater. 8 hours later: This has faded down to a reasonably nice, light, thick honey scenet, close to the wrist. Verdict: Not as pleasant as I'd hoped, not as unpleasant as I'd feared. Heady and a little headache inducing, all that syrupy sour-sweet honey wine and the confusingly perfumey rosewater and incense. As you can probably tell from the number of times I've used it so far, if I had to sum it up in one word, it would be "syrupy." I'll probably keep it and try it again One word: syrupy. Yes, I really felt the need to say it again.

In the imp: A bit sweet, a bit medicinal. Fresh on the skin: A rather bitter floral with an oddly heavy sweetness. It's reminding me of the florals I don't really like, though -- I'm not a big gardenia or plumeria fan, and it's leaning rather sharply (and I do mean sharp -- the waft is a bit spiky) in that direction. But something saves it from being the simple "I hate this because it makes me feel sick to my stomach" that those two tend to give me. I have no idea what any of the notes in this smell like, actually, including the opium, so all I can do is describe the overall scent. It seems to be like a very medicinal flower, showy and rather deadly. 10 minutes later: Huh. So, okay. I didn't really expect to like this one, and the incredibly strong dark floral (with huge throw, incidentally) front seemed to emphasize that. And yet, and yet. There's a spiciness to the scent that I'm really kind of liking. It's very intense. 30 minutes later: I'm so confused about why I don't hate this. I think it's partially an effect of how that spicy edge is clearing my nostrils. And it's sweet and heady without making my headache worse, possibly because the spicy and the underlying bitter balance everything out. If anything, the thing that's annoying me most so far is the way it smells a little bit like really strong baby powder. 50 minutes later: Oh. Spoke too soon. Still can't tell for sure about the headache, but it's _definitely_ turning my stomach. It's may well be the black orchid if it's the florals that's the problem, but honestly it could any of the notes, or some combination. Damn. I think I have to wash it off. And I was feeling so pleasantly surprised, too. Verdict: I'm so sad this didn't work out, because it was poised to surprise me. And I love the name. I might try it again at some point and see if any part of it was a fluke. One word: intense.

In the imp: dark caramel, maybe a little spicy Fresh on the skin: A little lighter and quite a bit more alcoholic than in the imp (ah, probably the hops). If there were such a thing as caramel beer, I think it might smell a little like this. 10 minutes in: Wow, this is _rich_. I'm not a huge fan of Starbucks, but the thing I like most on their menu is the toffee bar, which is buttery and dense and toothsome -- and that's even before you get to the toffee and chocolate chunks. This reminds me of eating one of those with a steaming caramel latte made with homemade caramel sitting next to me. And maybe with a shot of caramel-flavored liqueur in the coffee, because that little alcoholicness is still around, just a bit. 30 minutes in: Hrm. This still smells delicious in a very toffeeish foody way, but the waft is starting to tickle my nose, it's so sweet and rich. And close in, the hops are definitely still present, which I feel rather neutral about. I'm not a huge beer fan, either, but this is still pretty nice, and maybe it's reining in the sweet a little. 1 hour in: This is a delicious smell, but it might be a little much. I swear I can feel sugar in the back of my throat. 2 hours in: Hmm. This has lightened up to a sugar and alcohol smell that's nice, but I prefer the earlier darker caramel. It's also turning my stomach a little, but maybe I'm just hungry? (It's lunchtime.) But I don't actually want to eat. Very weird. 3 hours in: Ah. It's gone sort of generic vanilla candle on me. Or maybe more like toffee candle, actually. 9 hours in: Faded chocolate and caramel. 10 hours in: Still there, and I bet there'd be something there for a couple more hours. I think I'm going to wash it off in favor of trying something else instead, though. 12 hours in: Um. Wow. I washed it off with soap (and even posted the original version of this review, which stopped at hour 10), thinking that it had probably faded enough that it wouldn't affect other scents too much. Then I applied Baku because I felt like I needed some calm. Baku is a really quick scent for me, but intense and transformative. The wrist that had had Gluttony on it? Smelled kind of terrible. I guess benevolent nightmare-eating Japanese spirits aren't too keen on Christian sins. Oops. But the funniest part about all of this? The Baku is mostly gone, just a lingering lavender-anise on the insides of my elbows (it lasts longer there than on my wrists). But the Gluttony remains, just a nice, light, last wisp of caramel. Verdict: I love caramel, but this was maybe a little too sugary and rich for me. It almost pushes you too much towards the rather uncomfortable aftermath of gluttony, where the thought of eating more is deeply disturbing. And yet, and yet. I'll definitely be trying it again, I'm sure of it. One word: caramel.

In the imp: Oh. Oh my god. If this were a dessert I would eat this up so fast. It would make a wonderful ice cream, actually. Perfectly ripe fresh figs just swimming in cream, drizzled with rich, dark honey. God, I love this. Fresh on the skin: If there were such a thing as a fig and honey gelato scratch and sniff sticker, I think it would smell like this. There's enough of something else -- I think probably the sandalwood -- that makes it not quite entirely like dessert, but it's really close. I also think the coconut is getting in the way of the amazing fig I smelled in the imp, a little bit, and coconut can sometimes smell a bit soapy or lotiony to me. This is a little too much like tasty-smelling suntan lotion for comfort. Only with honey. It's still lovely, anyway. We'll see how it dries down. 7 minutes later: Oh my god. The air around me smells amazing right now. Like I want to find whatever's making that incredible creamy honey and exotic fruit smell and just gobble it up. God, so good. 15 minutes later: This is amazing. It's sweet and rich without being heady or syrupy or cloying -- no headache in sight. And at the edges of the scent I'm starting to get something oddly less sweet, a bit green, a bit woody, that's probably some combination of sandalwood, fig leaf, and unripe fig. It does still sort of smell like suntan oil, though. But the kind that kind of makes you want to find out if it's edible. 1 hour later: This is still amazing, but I think it's starting to give me something of a sugar high! The image I get is of a ripe fresh fig, cut in half, the cut side dipped in white sugar, crystals starting to turn clear as they melt. 2 hours later: Ah, this is doing that powdering down to mostly honey thing that honey notes seem to do on my skin. Luckily I like that, and this one's still got some complexity to it. The sandalwood is coming through more now, making it a little more perfumey. 3 hours later: And we've reached the cloying stage, all honey lozenge and potpourri. It doesn't have much throw anymore, which is probably good because I don't love this stage, but it's still very present on my wrist. 4 hours later: Still there. 5 hours later: Fading fast. Probably doesn't help that there's still the inexplicable lingering lilac scent of Dragon's Blood from when I applied it yesterday. 7 hours later: There's just a little warm sweetness still there, but with barely any distinct character. Verdict: I really really enjoyed this, and the early stages were astonishingly striking. It is _extremely_ sweet (though much less cloying than that might imply), which I might not always be in the mood for, and I'm a little worried about the hints of suntan oil. Plus I didn't love the linger, though I didn't really hate it, either. But mostly, it was intensely delicious in a very foodie way, more so than any of the oils I've tried so far, even Shango, whose tropical fruit cocktail nature made me want to slurp it off my wrists. I conveniently have two imps of this (thanks, Lab!), so I'll probably wait on the big bottle until I see how often I use it. But I know I'll be reaching for it again. One phrase: fig and honey gelato

In the imp: Pure marzipan, yum. Fresh on the skin: Spiced up and slightly alcoholic marzipan, and something resin-y that I think might be the frankincense and heliotrope at the edges. 10 minutes later: It's bloomed warm and sweet on the skin, probably the cinnamon and vanilla coming through, still with the resin backing giving the scent weight. 50 minutes later: Fragrant, warm, almond and resin. It reminds me of playing the violin in elementary school, applying resin to my bow. 2.5 hours later: It's gone deliciously sugary, like those crunchy caramelized cinnamon-sugar almonds. I would _devour_ a dish of these if they were sitting in front of me smelling like this. Yum. 9 hours later: Okay, I wore this all day for 3 hours of seminar, 1 hour of lecture and 2 hours of leading discussion section, plus travel time, and it's faded down a lot but it's still basically nice warm spicy almond and resin when I press my nose to my wrist. Verdict: I really liked this. It was consistently yummy-smelling, and the warmth of it seems to make it blend into my skin scent really nicely. It did have some slightly soapy moments, but that may be in part because for awhile my default soap was oatmeal and almond. I think in the back of my mind I'd been hoping for more almond and less resin, but I think there are other scents I can try for that, and this was lovely as it is. Overall, just solidly _good_. One phrase: cinnamon caramelized almonds.

Fresh on the skin: Lilac? Kind of a spicy lilac. Oddly warm and dark, I guess that's the wood coming out. 10 minutes later: Aggressively floral in a soapy kind of way. I didn't expect it to be this floral! A spicy, woodsy floral, though, not too sweet. Reminds me distinctly of the huge line of lilac bush we had in front of the house I grew up in. 45 minutes later: Damn. This has kind of insane throw. It's like I'm in a halo of woodsy lilac soap. It's started to soften down some, though, which is good. This is not unpleasant, though it's a bit overly-floral for me. But I'm not much for most florals, with the exception of the occasional light rose, lavender (if that's a flower rather than an herb), or fruit blossom scent. I do like the smell of lilacs -- it's very nostalgic -- but I think I prefer it actually attached to real flowers. 1 hour later: New discovery: apples taste _really_ strange when all you can smell is lilac. I knew there was a reason I usually only test on my right (non-dominant hand) wrist. Whoops. 2 hours later: This has softened down a lot into a warm hooded lilac and resin. 3 hours later: Lingering, with an underlying sweetness, too. 7 hours later: Got distracted by my translations. This has faded down to almost nothing, just a faint laundryish smell left. 9 hours later: I can't smell it on me anymore, really, but there's still something of it in the air around where I applied it, just a woodsy lilac wisp of scent every once in a while. Verdict: I didn't really enjoy this much. It does have a very distinctive, interesting, nostalgic scent that I do like in particular contexts, but stuck to me for hours on end with no greenery in sight isn't exactly one of them. Still, this was definitely not boring, anyway, and it didn't threaten headache like some scents do. I might keep one vial to have the occasional experience of LILAC, but I think I'm going to send the other off to swaps.

In the imp: I have no idea how to explain this other than bright neon green. Fresh on the skin: I still have no idea how to describe this. Bright, astringent, tingly, light and sharp. Neon yellows and green. I guess it smells sort of like Irish Spring soap. 10 minutes in: Ugh. I think this is giving me a headache. I've never wanted to smell like Irish Spring soap. The throw is rather strong, but maybe I only think that because this really doesn't work for me. It's sweetening up a little bit as it warms on my wrist, but the waft is still sharp and soapy. 20 minutes in: Now it's turning my stomach, too. This would be less of a problem if I weren't in the middle of schoolwork that needs to be turned in ASAP, but as it is, I don't think I can deal with this anymore. It reminds me of cleaning supplies I'm allergic to. 30 minutes later (10 minutes after I washed it off, using three different scented soaps): Gah! I can still smell it. Well, it's persistent, anyway. Verdict: Well, I probably would never have chosen this for myself, but I'm glad I got to try it, if only to confirm that no really, Cathode is not for me. If I had gotten more mint from it, things might've been different. As it is, Cathode has earned the distinction of being the first scent that I had to actively go wash off, and therefore the first scent that I definitely want to swap.

In the imp: caramelized spice with an alcohol/herb base Fresh on the skin: Spicy, with an odd herbal bite to it. A little soapy. 5 minutes in: Oh. Oh, I'm really liking the spicy vanilla waft. Impressive throw. 10 minutes in: Still something bitter in the scent very close to the skin, but the waft is all creamy, spicy vanilla, not too sweet. Mmmm. 1 hour in: Spices and vanilla and dry, lit incense. Still really liking this. 2 hours in: I was a little afraid it was going powdery for a bit there, but I shouldn't've been afraid. This is still a lovely warm, light spicy vanilla with a hint of incense. It's faded in strength a bit, but is still most certainly present. 3 hours in: It's starting to fade down to a more generic vanilla, but it's still really nice. 4 hours in: Warm vanilla deliciousness. 5 hours in: Fading. 6 hours in: Not yet gone, but getting there fast. It's become a very light vanilla root bear scent. 7 hours in: Basically gone, just the barest vanilla ghost of it left. Verdict: I love this. Love love love love love. Simple as that.

In the imp: Sweet, with a bit of chemical -- probably the alcohol in the wine. Fresh on the skin: Sweet red wine and rosewater. Quite lovely. 20 minutes later: I'm starting to think I amp rose -- this is mostly a nice, light rose on me with a sweet red wine base. 4 hours later: While I was dealing with teaching (in red horns, black and gold wings, and a red shirt ironically proclaiming "angel" across the front -- there's something highly amusing about proctoring a midterm on Halloween), Lilith went from a nice delicate rose with hints of red wine through to a kind of powdery rose that was thankfully a little less baby powdery and more just rose than Jezebel's, to this faint warm fuzzy chocolatey scent with maybe just a tiny bit of rose remaining. I think I need to figure out a good way of applying these to my hair, because my usual method of putting stuff in my hair is to just put it on my hands and smooth it through, but that doesn't seem like the ideal solution for bpal, somehow. 5 hours: Gone. Verdict: I actually really adored the early stages, and the later ones are quite nice, if not spectacular. It had a similar rose to Jezebel for me, but Lilith's red wine made it more fruity and delicate and less heady and cloying than Jezebel's orange blossom honey. So, definitely a keeper (which makes me really happy -- I've always had an affinity for Lilith), and I want to experiment with ways to make the early gorgeous clear delicate rosewater and red dessert wine stage last longer.

In the imp: The most delicious, sweet, creamy orange smell ever -- light, floaty creamsicle, twined with delicate rose. Mmmm. Fresh on the skin: The rose is stronger now, made all sunny and sweet by the honeyed almost-citrus, and the pretty lace cutout of a Chinese sandalwood fan hovering around the edges. I like this! 10 minutes in: Everything around me smells faintly like soft, warm, rose sweetened by orange blossom honey, and if I wave my wrist in front of my nose I get this gorgeous thick shimmering trail of it. 20 minutes in: Yeah, that's some serious throw, and I'm not sure how I feel about that -- it's heady and syrupy enough that it may be headache-inducing. And yet, I _like_ it. 30 minutes in: Rose rose rose, rose rose. Rose? Rose. Long, long ago, in early childhood, I had a small pendant-figurine-toy that had a really very nice delicate-heady rose scent that this mimics almost exactly. It also smells a lot like the scented leather rose my first boyfriend bought me at our local Renn Faire. Lots of memory surrounding this one. And it smells freaking _gorgeous_ rubbed into my hair. Interesting. 1 hour in: Rose, dripping with honey. Light and sweet waft with a warm, heady center, still quite strong. This is remarkably stable. 1.5 hours in: Oh. Hrm. I'm starting to get baby powder at the edges of my pretty honeyed rose. Damn it. 4 hours in: What? Chocolate? In fact... honey truffle. And baby powder. 9 hours in: Slightly spicy chocolate, thick and warm on the wrist. It's been like that for basically hours. Verdict: I have no idea. Just, no idea. I think next time I'm going to just smooth it through my hair and see how I like that. But Jezebel's on notice.

In the imp: Bright! Yellow! Fruit! With some sharp, lurking, bitter green something underneath. Fresh on the skin: Tropical fruit cocktail with an apple wine base. Pretty! And ooh, it gets a splash of cream on the drydown. Mmmmmmmm. 10 minutes later: Holy crap, this is gorgeous. It makes me want to slurp on my wrist, it smells so delicious. 15 minutes later: I just re-read the description. Shango is Challenge, the concept of finding the best parts of yourself through conflict and adversity. Shango’s weapon is the double-headed axe, and His animals are the black cat and the leopard. Wow. No wonder I love this so much. My favorite ex-boyfriend once gave me a double-headed throwing axe for valentine's day, and I've always had a thing for big cats. And oh, do I ever have adversity in spades at the moment. But I'm working through it, damn it. I am. 20 minutes later: You know, there's something slinky about this, silky and graceful like a cat. Or maybe I'm just suggestible. It doesn't have huge throw, but is instead a nice medium. The waft smells like Starburst. Yum. 1 hour later: There's a fair amount of vanilla warmth seeping in, making it a little more like cake and a little less like a fruity drink, but it's still delicious. 2 hours later: Yup, still delicious in that bright tropical vanilla and fruit way. It's quite close to the skin now, though. 4 hours later: We're down to the faintest of fruity vanillas now. 5 hours later: And we out. Verdict: I enjoyed this a lot, but I wish it lasted a bit longer. Still, seriously yummy in all stages. Definitely a keeper.

In the imp: Golden-sweet, with herbs both high and sharp and dark and earthy. The apple is light so far, young and green. Fresh on the skin: Wow. This is all fresh herbs on me at first, but a nice blend of bitter and sweet. It deepens quickly, growing a warm glowing core and an absolutely lovely apple waft that seems to be a combination of golden delicious and granny smith. If I breathe in too deeply it goes straight to my head, though -- I suspect that might be the amber, blending with the herbs to give it just the thinnest incensey edge at the front. 10 minutes later: This really is quite lovely, tart and gold and sweet, juicy and somehow both soft and sharp, with a kind of practical, no-nonsense side that harkens to "Necessity." Verdandi is beautiful in a light, warm, slightly crisp way that neither bothers to be stately and elegant nor frivolous and flighty. It does have something of a thicker, perfume-y center that I'm not sure how I feel about yet (again, presumably the amber), but we'll see how things develop. 30 minutes later: Hmm. I'm mostly getting apple-flavored sweet potpourri, warm and soft and a little cloying. 40 minutes later: Oh, weird. There's also, at the very edges at the scent -- like, literally in a spatial location apart from the rest of it -- there's a kind of odd scorched herb smell. Not "toasty" or "smoky" or even "burnt" (all things I tend to like), but seriously _scorched_. And maybe a little plasticky? But the center of the it is just as warm and potpourri-like as ever. It's like it's a a little evil underneath the sugar and spice. 1 hour later: Okay, the scorched rubber smell is getting stronger. I've been sneezing and I can feel a headache coming on that was totally nonexistent before. This is... problematic. Half of me just want to wash this off, but the other half wants to see what happens if I let it develop more. Maybe it'll turn into the scent I was hoping for. I miss that tart, juicy first stage. 1.25 hours later: Scorched, rotting apples. Ugh. 1.5 hours later: Well, the central smell has gotten rather nicely soft and sweet, a kind of perfumed apple. I'm still getting a lot of scorch in the halo of air nearby, though. 2 hours: Ah. This has gone a sort of generic soft sweet slightly spicy scent, a little bubblegummy. Nice enough, but it doesn't really balance out the scorch effect, which is still hovering around. 2.5 hours: Oh! That's what it's reminding me of. Smarties, those powdery little tablets -- it even smells, somehow, like the odd texture they have against your teeth, and the way they start with that burst of tart and melt into a delicate sugar-sweet. I kind of like it. 3 hours: Huh. I think the scorched part is almost gone, or at least sublimated. The near-my-wrist smell (basically still Smarties) is quite nice, actually. 4 hours: Okay, the smell is still warm and sweet and close to the wrist, very similar to the Smarties phase, but now it's reminding me of art class -- freshly shaven pencils and plasticky-sweet art supplies. I'm betting this one is gone, gone, gone, and probably was two hours ago, effectively, besides the scorched aura. Hmm, and now that I've noticed the pencil shavings, that seems to be taking over my awareness -- I have an image of blackened herbs in my mind. And, wow, even as I'm smelling it it's rapidly disappearing. Yeah, this is gonnnnnnne. Verdict: I really want to figure out why Verdandi hates me. Maybe it's a commentary on how ineffective I've been recently, especially along the lines of finishing crucial projects. Maybe it has some note that just doesn't work for me -- I haven't tried enough to figure that out yet; I can't wait until I have enough data and I can start cross referencing. I'll probably wait awhile and give it another shot later down the line -- who knows what could change by then! Maybe if I finish this research project... Sadly this gives me no conclusive evidence either way about how I feel about the bpal apple note -- I'm contemplating Samhain 2008, you see. I guess I'll try Shango tomorrow, and observe the apple in that!

Oh wow. I was just thinking today that I'd love an excel spreadsheet to keep track of stuff, as my multiple .rtf docs are getting a little unwieldy. Should've known someone would have done this long ago! Many thanks.

In the imp: bright pink bubblegum, but with a lurking evil complexity underneath, sharp and kind of ammonia-y, like industrial-strength cleanser. Fresh on the skin: Whoa, that cleanser smell really comes to the forefront, sharp and astringent. There's sugar-sweetness blooming around the edges, cloying. I'm a little afraid this is going to give me a headache. 10 minutes later: Pretty impressive throw, which is problematic as that headache I could feel almost forming (which Baku, the scent I tried this morning, had helped soothe) is starting to spread across my forebrain. 20 minutes later: There's a strong baby powder aspect to this. Baby powder is not one of my favorite smells, and while this is definitely not all baby powder, it's still sort of problematic. 30 minutes later: This is like a thick bubblegum icepick to my sinuses, and not in a good way. If I get really close I can smell all sorts of interesting other stuff underneath, but the aura of cloying bubblegum masks it. 1 hour later: Okay, it's calmed down a lot and is relatively pretty -- now it's sort of a spiced-up, slightly incensey bubblegum. 2 hours later: Warm, soft, spiced bubblegum, light and sweet. I don't hate it, anyway. I do kind of think it's undone most of Baku's work -- my shoulders are all tightened up now, after Baku had relaxed them. 3 hours later: It's gained a little creamy vanilla-ness. Now it's sort of like a fluffy white cake with bubble-gum-flavored sprinkles mixed in, fresh out of the oven. Nice. 6 hours later: Light bubblegum-vanilla, faded and a bit powdery. Fine, if unexciting. 7 hours later: This is basically gone, having faded all the way down to a generic vanilla-y smell. Verdict: I feel profoundly enh about the whole thing. The later stages are reasonably pleasant, but I'm not sure how I feel about the aggressive start. I've never been a fan of bubblegum perky, you know? And the underlying evil, at least for me, feels less like complex, seductive darkness and more like a shallow, backstabbing high school cheerleader. And well, I was pretty much a loud, proud, nonconformist geek in high school, so you can guess how I feel about that. I'll probably give it another shot sometime, because I didn't actually hate it, and maybe a different mood and a bit of aging will do it a world of good.