impolight

:::: Mmmmmmm... As it's name implies, this is tightly-braided, deliciously glowing hot, Leather... This is raised, inflamed skin, singing the raw, hot praises of watery-eyed pain as it, trembling, reaches out for the feathery soft brush of a Rose petals teasing stroke... Whip is the yummy shine on a stiletto-heeled, patent-leather boot biting the skin at your collar-bone... Whip is the seductively wet sheen of hot, bubblegum pink lip gloss... A fluorescent-pink, anime, kitten on fire... Whip is a great scent for Her... "Yes, Ma'am" has never fallen more thrillingly tingly from the lips. 4/5! Consistently great stuff from the Lab!

:::ETHER::: Ether is every bit as bright and volatile as its name implies. There had been an Imp of this that had come from somebody else's collection a long time ago, and the impressions from that one was nowhere near as favourable as this is. This Ether is light, slighly floral, slightly Ozoney... There is this almost cinematic image of flying very low and very fast over a hilly field of wildflowers, and then suddenly rocketing straight up into the dazzle of the sun... Ether is akin to a glass globe filled with luminous, lightning coloured gas; a swirling, magnesium-flash fog.One gets the impression here of the potentially extreme volatility of the substance that this formula is named after... On the skin, Ether amps big-time, transforming into a fragrance that reacts with the tonsils at the same time that it's being detected by the nose... Assertively intense! You know you're in a close, intimate encounter with Ether. Spectrally, Ether is brilliant white, pastel-green,and neon-turquoise. Ether would be a great fragrance to wear to a masquerade ball if you plan to attend disguised as an android.This would be terrific as a room fragrance, but difficult to disengage with as a personal fragrance. Synthetically unisex. 4/5.

:::THE SERPENTS WITH THE GLITTERING EYES AND FORKY TONGUES::: This fragrance is almost perversely bright and jubilant! This is the olfactory equivalent of after-imagery's green glow hazing your eyes after spending all afternoon outdoors on the first hot day that heralds the end of Spring/ beginning of Summer, following that girl in the swirling, cherry-red dress eating a lemon-lime sorbet... At very first, SERPENTS WITH THE GLITTERING EYES AND FORKY TONGUES was alot like a fruity hard-candy lozenge with plenty of citric acid thrown in for tartness.This is a formula that is as hypnotic as it is quenching... A very refreshed tartness. Dabbed onto the wrist, THE SERPENTS WITH GLITTERING EYES AND FORKY TONGUES loses some of it's stickier, dulcent edge and becomes... Clean. This could work as either an expensively milled soap or even a ... Mouthwash? 0_o. There is more of a ghostly aquatic here and some almost minty or cucumberesque solution. THE SERPENTS WITH THE GLITTERING EYES AND FORKY TONGUES is clean and otherworldly. While being unisex, this fragrance would probably work a little bit better for her... This would work nicely with a free-flowing cotton dress and a picnic under a large tree during the blaze of summer with a ferris wheel in the background. Eating boysenberries and icy white wine. This is also kind of surreal or absurd... A good fragrance to huff whilst having a buzzy sort of lie-down at a slam-poetry read. This fragrance is brilliant. Very, very good! 5/5 for Her.

:::TENOCHTITLAN::: WOW! Tenochtitlan is kind of like a portal to another time, another place... A true form of wanderlust! Tenochtitlan is remniscent of a lush, primieval kingdom; predating mankind's most elaborate fantasies of ancient civilization and it's accompanying vanities. Tenochtitlan smells humid... This is the pearlescent drapery of tropical mists, snagging in treetops and kissing Bromelaids. This is the kind of sweet that will have your eyelids fluttering lepidopterically... There is a resinous spiciness shifting around in Tenochtitlan that seems to have origins of unfamiliar, exotic spices ground into a powder and folded into an admixture of Amazonian honey, nectars, and saps...Tenochtitlan is the leaves of uncertain wattage, the chorus of fiery-eyed simians, and tree-frogs vibrant enough to make a 96 count bix of Crayolas weep... On the skin, Tenochtitlan wars, darkens, dusks... The incensey notes here take on a powdery caramel character of previously unplumbed mystery . There is also a Cinnamon that smolders, pops, and dances with embers... Tenochtitlan is wild, exotic, exploratory... This would be right at home with a bodice-ripping version of one of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's adventures of untammeled frontier. Tenochtitlan is a surefire masterpiece. Delirious on Him, sultry and beckoning on Her. 5/5!

:::INTRIGUE::: What an obsessive fragrance... Hence, the name intrigue! Things that do make up this fragrance are certainly deceptive. Upon opening the Imp and testing the oil on the wrist, the scent seemed broad and clean: Apple peel meets Cedar meets Coconut meets Magnolia... Referring back to the Lab's notes came as quite a shock! Cocoa? Fig? Really? The Black Palm makes the most sense between what was picked up and what was listed... A tropical sedutress. Intrigue reels you in and leads you ever on and on with a sweet, adventurous allure you can't ever quite place but are dying to know. A smoldering fragrance for her. 4/5

:::LEAR::: Who ever knew that a perfume designating submedicated royalty could waft, oh so divinely? Lear is a sunnily fantastical experience! The most apparent note from the uncapped Imp is the Cedar... White Cedar, if the notes are being remembered correctly... This would be a wildly befitting description of this note alone; it was effortless to picture a tall, twisted tree, incandescing in it's entirety, like a 300 watt bulb. There is also something sweet and well-scrubbed about Lear in this stage. This could be the Blackberry note, yet it isn't quite what could be described as fruity, so it's difficult to say with appreciable certainty. After a small amount of Lear was applied to the wrist, a veritable forest of greenery filled every last, subatomic space in the surrounding area... This stuff amps like mad! (no pun intended!)Lear really is fantastic! It's weird, but as it dries, the Cedar and greenery remain, the sweet has dropped back to the very edge of periphery, but this unique, metallic note appears; remniscent of a suit of armor left in the rain... Delightfully tragic, creepy, and haunted... A portrait of a head held high despite the rust, blood, emaciation, and the terrifying, blasted wastes viewed plain through the windows of the soul. Lear is clean and decidedly masculine. Very unique. The scent of someone you don't care for particularly much, would feel uncomfortable being left alone with him in a room, but you cannot help but feel an enormous respect. Lear is a well crafted, aromatic sorcery. 4/5.

:::HAY MOON::: This one is certainly very nice...The whole notion of Hay Absolute was very much intriguing. The fragrance of newly mown Hay is very nostalgic, hearkening back to a more pastoral time in life; before the turbo-development of the area between the Inland Empire and Palm Springs area of Southern california... Times when there were still agricultural science courses offered at the local High School, and when it was actually kind of hip to be a member of 4H or Boy Scouts or something. This is very well on it's way to becoming a favourite! This had none of the scratchy, dustly aplomb that accompanies the Straw that happens to ordinarily tag along with baled hay...This is creamy, golden, sweetly green fragrance of the real McCoy. While there were some mild misgivings about the Cardamom note (Cardomom? With Hay? Really? Why?), it now makes perfect sense, actually drawing out more of the hay's true essence with it's tangy and subdued spiciness lending the perfect, glowing contrast. The label was super endearing; upon getting a whiff of this fragrance, it's easy to see how it would give a spectacular, creepy edge to a Halloween Scarecrow costume. It is hard to imagine what this smelled like fresh from the Lab; the bottle being used in this review was stumbled across being auctioned off on eBay for peanuts and a sing along, so resistance was futile! 5 out of 5! BPAL is amazing!

:::ANTIKYTHERA MECHANISM::: Ah, what a multi-splendored thing that is the skin and it's secretive sigil of body-chemistry, yes? Antikythera Mechanism is an unmitigated Wünderkind; the Rosetta Stone by which the greatest of epics might be translated for ours smelling pleasure... Antikythera Mechanism is virtually insectile in the number of evolutionary changes it goes through... No other oil is quite like it in this respect. To ascribe anything less than profound for this stunning formula would be folly. Antikythera Mechanism is very much like the trophy room alluded to in an earlier review; it is a single location where evidence of many exotic experiences are on display that one might reflect upon wildness and ferocity while simultaneously enjoying the finer things in life. Antikythera Mechanism is a strange contraption in that it seems to span so many time periods at once; effortlesslt dancing betwixt wormholes to suit it's whim. It is a secret vault of knowlege that lends an intrigue to the wearer. Antikythera Mechanism is an affluent, Walrus-Mustachioed tycoon. It is the black sheep of the Hellfire Club. It could be the sugar-daddy to Snake Oil. When first opened, Antikythera Mechanism resounded with a rich, dark, wooden fragrance, mingling with something citrusy... like the fine spray you can see upon first ripping the rind of an orange. Almost immediately, a spiciness began to emerge and there was a swelling of some dark fruit fragrance... almost a plum or a cherry. A few hours afyer wearing, and when physical exertions brought about a need to perspire, a scent emerged that brought to mind some of the pre-World War II barbershop talc that used to be secreted away in the drawers of Grandfather's shaving goodies... Excelsior with the effect of bygone era! Everything in the Steamworks line is brilliant to date! Antikythera Mechanism could work for either sex, yet the woody, smoky, dark-paneled barbershop effect it engenders probably make it most suitable for him. Exquisite! 5/5!

:::WHITECHAPEL::: Whitechapel is bang-bang beautiful! Whitechapel is also out and out, throw on a pair of grandma's underwear, pound your chest, and bark at the moon bonkers. Whitechapel may have the Silver-tipped cane, the top hat, and white gloves, but there is no getting around the fact that Whitechapel is mercurial-eyed, has filed it's teeth into points, and talks to candles. Whitechapel is THE LOVELIEST blend of Lime & Lilac with a splish of Musk in there to put hair on it's chest. Looking over some of the other reviews, more than one reference to fruit loops has popped up... Okee-duckin'-Folky! Well, that could be one way to explain a cereal-killer... At least the limes were right... Whitechapel is a compelling fragrance, making a dapper statement for Him. Whitechapel is a cheerful, carbonated sort of green. It would pair nicely with pinstripes and an ascot. This fragrance has yet to fail getting a couple of compliments at least from she-folk. Excelsior!

:::NOCTURNE::: After coming to be rabidly, fanatically fond of scents like Saturnalia and Bluebeard, Nocturne was chalked up to be a sure thing what with the pretty violets... The Lab's notes also indicated the pleasures of Lilac and Tuberose, so there was no way this could go any way other than supoib... Violets do work really well with body chemistry so far, and Lilac has been pure gold as far as the reactions it has evoked from most. Tuberose is just plain incredible... Locally, there is a Farmer's Market that sets up on one of the Downtown Historic streets on Thursdays. In Summer, competition can be fierce among the flower vendorsl each selling a varity of bloom more impressive than the next, the Tuberoses there are almost fictitiously potent. A smaller bunch was picked out for a modest vase found at a yard sale and the Tuberoseswere left in water to brighten a corner while there was dithering to be had. Opening the door upon returning home, the Tuberoses cocked back an olfactory fist and let everyone have it, right between the eyes as soon as the threshhold was crossed... Life hasn't quite been the same since! All of these elements combined were anticipated with delicious shivers and relish... What fun! A gleefully macabre perfume of corvid lustre to dab with abandon and wax eerie... Nope. Way too pretty. This is not such a bad thing really. This would make an unparalelled room fragrance. Magnificently floral... just not conspicuously for boys. *sniff* Nocturne is aromatic bliss, however. While it does have an overcast, dimly wintry, rainy-day melancholia theme to it, Nocturne could also be easily associated with an older woman of experience who could teach some silly boy just how much he doesn't know. An enchanting perfume. A true delight. 5 out of 5.

:::LIGHTNING::: There seems to be a fairly large sentiment out there that voices big time discouragemnet for all things Ozone in the realm of BPAL fragrances. For those of Us who are lifers in non-coastal regions of Southern California as well as other arid climes, this can seem perplexing. Lightning induces a time-warp back to some of the earliest formative memories; of staring through the window screen, curtains billowing in to buck and ripple, parallel with the ceiling... The purple-grey thunderheads, smooshing fat together and dragging their bellies across jagged tops of the rock formations near Eagle Mountain (just NorthEast of Joshua Tree). Lightning happens, both as radiant cracks and as the whole of the sky going snowball-white for just a tick.The BOOM is immense; saurian prehistoric. The wind picks up and seems to fill the whole world like an invading army.Just before the first drop smacks the dust from the stone, there is this smell of what it must be like to breathe underwater... Lightning is a thrill of a fragrance. Lightning is the Deification of rage, yet Lightning is unmistakably hallowed and pure. The sparkling punch of Ozone in Lightning is like a bowstring twang of adrenaline, thundering alongside your galloping heart. Lightning reacts with the skin with a hypodermic swim upstream, and it reintroduces itsself by precipatating from every pore... You fill up a room like a storm fills the sky... Spectrally, Lightning is Slate, Seafoam, Grey, Violet, Fluorescent-White, and Crystal-Clear. Lightning is a beautiful androgen that sweeps across the room without it's feet ever touching the floor. Divine. 5/5. BPAL has done it again...

:::TEMPEST::: Tempest is so incredibly... wow. Tempest is one of those fragrances that sets the imagination ablaze... Mere scribbling will do very little to encapsulate the actual experience had when first encountering Tempest. Tempest is very much like Lightning, though somehow, (impossibly) CLEANER. While Lightning seems to be the stuff blustering in to swoop over the neighborhood and surrounding areas to pretty much ruin a picnic and completely erase memories of EVER having driven a car, Tempest is the same but LOUDER. Tempest has all the sizzle and flash of Lightning, but it invokes a scariness when it is backed up by the spray and the winds whipping across the miles and miles and trillions of gallons of a storm tossed sea... Here there is no dust or smog or traffic noise to rinse away. Here there is just fat, Ozone-laced drops mingling with briny and colossal Mother-Ocean. This is and endless, blue, womb and, by-golly it is pretty effin' mad that you're still here. Tempest is beguiling, and all consuming. While a fearsome aspect of nature, it is also as sedating as an aquarium full of brilliant tropical fish. Tempest is a palette of cool colors with a rumbling, bruised, thunderhead-grey and the migraine-white of an electrified trident. Brilliant stuff. Intriguingly unisex. Yummy!

:::BLUEBEARD::: Bluebeard is such a deviously brilliant and clever fragrance! It totally epitomizes the the urge to peek, even when you probably shouldn't... Until Bluebeard, there was a very strong aversion to Vetiver... But, with an exploration comes the promise of Violet! C'mon! Just a wee peek! Here, the inquisitiveness paid off with 8 lives left over! The Vetiver is still here, the very best specimen of Vetiver found anywhere. It has been sweetened and rounded out with Violet, LaVender, and iVory musk, making a Vehicle of unparalelled mystique. Bluebeard fills up the head with a reckless sort of, "glutton for punishment" spirit that will have you spinning about until your inevitable crash into that certain someone who might just reveal to you a secret that will probably do you both more harm than good... There's just SOMETHING about you! Bluebeard is intoxicating and weird... In the greatest possible way. Perhaps Elizabeth Frazier would sum it up the best...The song goes very nearly perfectly with this fragrance! Was this intentional or a very happy coincidence? Bluebeard is certainly the color of Violets brooding in the dark, but surrounded by an ethereal halo. Bluebeard is spectacular 5/5! For those unfamiliar, Copy and paste the following into your browser!

:::NYARLATHOTEP::: There are so many ways that the fragrance of Nyarlathotep branched out into unregulated brilliance, that it is an endeavor to know where to begin. Having had the bottle for some time, it is with no little degree of fascination that the characteristics of the fragrance seem to be perpetually fluctuating. Incense seems to be the most steadfast factor, omnipresent since being introduced to the formula that takes the name of a Lovecraftian masterpiece upon itsself. Nyalathotep fans out across the darker territories of the psyche, blotting out any chance of making a reference to things in the diurnal realm. There is an obscured, ceremonial palpability to this fragrance that leans toward a form of reverential awe, if not supernatural dread. Nyarlathotep is a sanguine veil of surreptitiousness; a cowl of encryption. This is a fragrance that has bristled with menace from another time in the cradle of civilization. Nyarlathotep is a haunted scream from wasted dunes. Nyarlathotep is elusive; serpentine in essence of how it's constantly in motion, coiling and looping atop itsself, crackling with energy... Ominous, venemous voltage. Nyarlathotep has divinely potent incense. It zings and pops with bright, blue-white arcs of Ozone. After aging for a bit, there seems to be traces of Tonka, Cedar, and Lemon speckling the overall hue of the fragrance. On the skin, Nyarlathotep amps ridiculously, a supernova pulsation and galactic swirl of potency. Spectrally, Nyarlathotep is bronze, brass, cinnamon,star-white, and fluorescent blue. This is a dangerously good fragrance from the Picnic in Arkham line. While never having visited Egypt, there are rumors from reliable sources that the whole place smells like a city-park restroom in July... Nyarlathotep smells better by leaps and bounds1 The wife mocks, saying the smell is of a creepy, perverted suicide-bomber... 0_o. Nyarlathotep is genius! 5/5! Thank you, BPAL!

:::GALVANIC GOGGLES::: Holy-Hellfire, this is GOOD! Everything in the Phoenix Steamworks & Research Facility line tried so far has been nothing short of extraordinary, but this fact did little to prepare for the way that Galvanic Goggles would ascend, stratospherically and, yet again, totally redefine the perameters of olfactory sensation and experience. Galvanic Goggles should come with a warning: "Sit'cher butt down and affix something plush to yer head before you go a sniffin' this one!" Sniffing Galvanic Goggles from a newly opened bottle was disturbingly akin to toying with a mercilessly potent hallucinogen. The mind-expansion part of it is clearly and appreciably here, but, there are SO many IMPORTANT bits included that NOBODY TOLD YOU ABOUT... Thank goodness for nobody watching when this was given a go! Right away, the impression is that of being impossibly clean and beautiful; the stuff with the otherworldly glow in science fiction. Weird, but really nice! Just about the time that the Tobacco Flower note registers, and then fuses with the metal, everything gets a bit WTFish. This might sound a mite exaggerated, but the closest description that comes to mind is that the head had to CHANGE SHAPE in order to facilitate the recognition of this fragrance... yes, really. The first reaction was to stand bolt upright, cringe a moment, and then blink accusingly at the bottle as it appreciated the clock on the wall and hummed to itsself in tritones. Next was this trembly bit of leaning forward and hesitantly stretching forth a hand to scoot the bottle closer for another sniff... The SAME FREAKIN' THING! (suspiciously eyes the rye toast). After a brief interlude with coffee and a somewhat embarassed little dog, back in for one more try. OK, the Balsam comes in as a sort of mediator and tosses a gaily coloured life-preserver, that further exploration might not be so unnerving. Now there is the element of cologne to this. This would be the stuff that the CIA or secret service would wear... Possibly the Men in Black. Truly disruptive to sensible brainwaves. Teflon as a first language. On the skin, there is a comforting, nice symbiosis as it greens up, waxes more organic and clean. (Oh, there you are, sofa! Nice sofa. Safe sofa. Non-ululating sofa.) The African Musk finally arrives with a knowing look and smooths out the entire fragrance with a pat on the head that seems to say, 'There, there, you big silly'. What, exactly, Galvanic Goggles are for is cool, but if they are for gazing across dimensions, there should have been a warning. Not for beginners. Galvanic Goggles is a really amazing fragrance. This was probably meant for Him to wear in order to make a very unique and memorable first impression. This would be as natural on Her as a waxed moustache. Very much a favourite 5/5! Get some!

:::ANTONY::: My, my, my... This is actually quite the disarming fragrance. Having read in the description that this was, "The embodiment of classic masculinity... a warrior's scent", the expectation was something much more assertive or, perhaps, even sharp. The contrast to the expectation was certainly a very welcome surprise! From the first whiff, Antony is devestatingly seductive; the Sage and the Frankincense collide mid-air, like the mating ritual of eagles... The talons interlock and there is this spiraling ballet, a psychotic and breathtakingly beautiful pledge to remain eternally smitten with one another. Antony is almost patriarchly spicy; a stern yet legendarily expert violin tutor with calloused hands, sterling hair and a heavily lined face... He just might drink a tad too much, but you lucidly recognise the foolishness of bring attention to it. There is this frightful, 'Can do/Anything's possible' attitude that accompanies this fragrance... Mood music for a hostile takeover... On the skin, Antony tears away it's mask and screams at you with it's gore bespattered face. The Leather takes on a an intimidatingly suggestive and invasive shape; the wielder giggling as it smacks worryingly into a not so terribly small hand. The Ambegris in Antony is clearly recogniseable, yet, strangely, is the MOST masculine variety of Ambegris anywhere on the planet... It drifts from being the Parisian skirt to the kilt on yon brawny brute with the calves like young pumpkins... Yipes! The Basil in Antony was the hardest note to locate ( a big boo-hoo here, being that the fragrance of Basil is one of the nearest to a favourite), but when it did spring from the melee, it had forgotten to put on it's pants. This isn't the pretty Basil with the wee leaves to snip over the top of noodles, THIS is THE BASIL, Purply, wild-eyed and striding about with a live hare betwixt it's choppers. Antony is definitely a classic. This is the stuff to wear when it's time to command AND demand attention. Spectrally Gray, Green and Purple, yet subdued shades of these. Earthy. The only regret with Antony is that, in this case, it is quite ephemeral. While it lasts, it is nothing short of amazing... The epidermis loves it too, apparently, and takes it in greedy gulps... 40 minutes later, it's nigh undetectable. A great, greeat fragrance.... Does anybody know when the 10mL's are coming back?

:::R'LYEH::: Well, the very first reaction to R'lyeh was one of mild disappointment... There was nothing to smell. When practically snorting a drop from the newly opened bottle resulted in a near nosebleed, the conclusion was that half a dozen drops on the old wrist would incorporate body-chemistry and yield different results... Le sigh. Rainwater would rival the fragrances potency.There was much glaring and harrumphing. There was storming about the house muttering, scowling, and treating the laundry to some excessive force.This was chalked up to experiencial value and R'lyeh was carefully placed in a dark and lonely time out. Well, every three months or so, there are these...withdrawls that are only cured by rereading Lovecraft, and the most recent bout resulted in pangs of guilt; and, so, R'lyeh was taken down from the shelf and given another go. So THIS is what's meant by an 'aged' oil! The process has obviously worked it's magic in this particular circumstance! R'lyeh is without question, an aquatically vainglorious perfume worthy of summoning visions of Cthulhu as he lay dreaming below. R'lyeh is a crushing, abyssmal fragrance, implying inconceivable undersea terrors that miss their terrestrial playthings.Rl'yeh smells like the first hint of the ocean as you exit the freeway and drive toward the beach... Proof positive that you're on different turf. R'lyeh not only smells irrefutably marine, but also hints at fear-sweat, spices, wood, gunpowder and canvass remembered from a dream of crushed tradeships and the seafarers who rode them... The men screaming trails of bubbles as they were snatched into the depths as though shot from a bow. R'lyeh is every bit the Lovecraftian masterpiece hoped for. The only possibility of even a speculative challenge would be "lightless" used as a descriptor.While R'lyeh is a far cry from the light of day or even a single candle, there is a queer, unsettling lamp of eerie bioluminescence that flashes andpulses from the creatures of the deep who share Cthulhu's home... The light is not a beacon of comfort in the darkness, but a reminder that there are far worse things than being alone. R'lyeh is an enchanting fragrance that evokes reverence and unearthly, prehistoric power. Prepare to be impressed. 4/5.

:::PHOENIX STEAMWORKS::: Though the ingredients Of Phoenix Steamworks are, at present, inaccessible from where this review is currently being composed, there is little that they could convey about the fragrance itsself... One might as well unravel the mysteries of lunar soil through eukelele lessons... Phoenix Steamworks has to be breathed to be believed. An extraordinary sensation awaits whomever fancies a bit of a foray into the territory of Steampunk fragrances. Phoenix Steamworks smells like an introspective stroll through an Alpine trail; an admiration of the bountiful earth... A somewhat ominous storm appears to be gathering, yet just before you conclude that it's a pretty good idea to head back, you notice a church across a clearing, and feel a childlike, irresistable urge to explore. This is unlike any church you have ever laid eyes on; the stonework is heartbreakingly intricate and beyond the scope of traditional architecture. The stone looks scrubbed and polished. The great front doors have are plated with Copper that has oxidized green from the region's weather. The wooden floors are agleam with a recent cleaning. The stained glass windows sparkle. There is the slightest revenant of incense aloft, harmonizing with the the surrounding freshness of the meadow. Everything is so immaculate, so pristine... Yet there is no one here. The church feels cold and abandoned. There are to roads leading to or from the church. What has happened? How can this be so? Meanwhile, distant thunder is grinding his teeth in his sleep. Phoenix Steamworks really is splendid. Whenever an exhertion took place, a great boom of the fragrance would waft out and make everything seem so much more... ideal. This is one of the better formula's encountered. 5/5. A great day for sending your soul on vacation. Metallic erotica. A must have. Close to the top!

:::LUPERCI::: Provocateurs of the world, unite! Luperci as a transcendant, illuminated and Utopian fragrance; worthy of a sensational moniker. Luperci seems to transfigure the very air and bend the light that surrounds the wearer, temporarily immolating the entire person in glorified, thunderstruck aspect.Luperci absolutely implies a penchant for revelry and debauch; though not the scenester, toolfest, replete with the JBF hair and the bendy bits... Luperci is precisely what euphoric abandon, heightened sensation, and benevolent celebration of the body, by rights, should be in a TRULY advanced civilization; in a near perfect world. Somehow, an entire planet's worth of a Garden of Delight has been condensed and refined to fit in this little, bitty, teaspoon of oil, and fill up the day with megawatt mists, singing foliage, and harp-string cascades of neon blue... A fragrance of freedom and frenzy! The more that Luperci languishes on the skin and bats it's lashes, the more that it evolves, becoming better and better suited for giving anybody that it touches an Extreme Yum Makeover. The Patchouli in Luperci came as a surprise. While readily identifiable, this is also the CLEANEST patchouli encountered to date; the Lab, the plant or anywhere else. This Patchouli actually found soap, hosed off, and changed it's Burkenstocks. The Echinacea in this formula may have had a hand in stripping away a layer of Patchouli's funk, and lending a tea-parlour atmospheric. Oakmoss is heavenly here; an immersion in lush, refreshing, of almost juicy proportions. Thanks to the Lab, there is a newfound obsession with the Balsam notes that pop up in some more delightful fragrances, and the Balsam in here is no exception; a sweet, resinous, almost creamy note that makes Luperci überluxurious. Ambrette seed is a thing of mystery; not yet identifiable, nonetheless here for a reason. The Beeswax binds everything together and, when coupled with the Honey, is the finishing polish that is Luperci's crowning jewel... Amazing!Luperci is the fragrant equivalent of a feast for every part of the body. Despite best efforts, language can't really tackle the phenomenon that is Luperci... It is unreal. A wonderful and humbling gift shared by the Lab. Go ahead. Be the cool kid.Life is beautiful. Emerge from your chrysalis and flout your newfound deliciousness! Immaculate! Shamelessly unisex... 5/5. THANK YOU, EVERYBODY AT BLACK PHOENIX ALCHEMY LAB!

:::COUNTESS DOLINGEN OF GRATZ::: Blissed out and unencumbered by gravity... That's a modest start for the fragrance that is Countess Dolingen of Gratz. This scent is a marvelous vessel for representing The Literary Vampire. The mind reels with drear, inadequately lit, archaic horrors that twist in the gut like a refrigerated nightcrawler, but somehow manages to reverbate with a singular, starlit moment that you wish could be cocooned in an eternity... The young boy had never been so frightened. From his hiding place in the tree, he watched her, his heart desperately trying to escape his chest. How beautiful she was! Imbued with life, she would have been an impossibility, as of now she was a nightmare; an angel of destruction astride a heartbreak.Were it not tossed about by the wind, her hair would have been that of a drowned girl. Her eyes were shining globules that spilled onto waxed paper from the inkwell. Hers were perfect, pouting, baby-doll lips, the EXACT color of powdered sugar. A slight scowl marred her otherwise perfect brow; her head cocked this way and that, frustrated that she could not detect him.His fingers burned with the cold of the charging storm. Everywhere seemed tormented by needles of frost. Hailstones stung ear and cheek. Winds tore at his coat and trespassed wherever it might. He became increasingly wet and cold, the damp bark gnawing at his spine, but he dared not court her gaze. The boy knew better than to play in the cemetary, especially so near dark, and in such inclement weather. His mother scolded him fiercely and admonished him to show some respect for the dead.It was only here, however, that he could sit without diversion for hours. On summer evenings, he would listen raptly to the chorus of frogs.His mother's distressed call startled him from his reverie."Misha! Misha! Come you in from the storm this instant!" The girl's face snapped toward the sound of his mother's voice, her little black tongue, lightning quick as she, tasted the air. Oh, how terribly she moved! Like a spider questing over pebbles in pursuit of a fat, black, wayward cricket...Her limbs seemed impossibly long, and though the boy could see down into her gown, her white flesh held no excitement for him. "Misha, where are you?" his mother cried, but her words were snatched into the wind.The girl scuttled in a blur toward the sound of his mother's voice and, before he could stop himself, he called out, "No!" The girl's head whipped back like a flower violently broken on it's stalk; her liquid black eyes, wide and her lips a perfect O in an expression of complete, almost comic surprise.Then she smiled a horrible smile; the smile of a black-tongued wolf slowly advancing on a lamb with a broken foreleg. Her mouth fell open to reveal row upon row of sharp teeth sprouting like thorns from her rotting gums. Her eyes locked with his, and Misha felt forever falling, and his whole world became starless space... Countess Dolingen of Gratz is an effortlessly classic, larger than life fragrance. The Cypress, Olibanum and Ozone meld perfectly and create an ambience more at home in a written masterpiece than the synthetic confines of the hustle and bustle of the day.Countess Dolingen of Gratz is immaculately unisex; a steely androgen of idealism that's confidently cool on Him, and bewitchingly bracing on Her.This offhandedly deserves a spot near the top of the list. Refreshingly different varietal of Ozone for anyone with misgivings about it in other scents. Worth your while.5/5!

:::QUEEN MAB::: Queen Mab is a preternaturally well crafted, light green scent. Having never heard of Queen Mab prior to finding BPAL, and not having the Lab's description on hand, guesses as to what this fragrance contains will be fumbling, at best. Queen Mab seems to be mostly made up of Melon, Cucumber, and Celery by first impression. There might be Plum in there somewhere, along with a dew-spattered grassiness that is dulcent and refreshing. On the skin, a fleeting, floral sweetness comes to the fore; somewhere between Tuberose and Violet. Queen Mab has more of a dainty and coquettish presence than an imperial one. Sweet, soft, and subtle. Turbo-girlie.

:::SCHEREZADE::: The Amber and Saffron in Scherezade is at the forefront and is very smooth. Quite possibly, there is Vanilla in this fragrance that lends a characteristic of sophisticated poise and charisma... A glamour, an allure. Scherezade is an off white, peach, and blush, spectrally. It is easy to imagine the source of inspiration for this particular fragrance wearing flowing, silken robes of the aforementioned shades. On the skin, Scherezade adapts a more floral aspect, along with a teaser of gourmet spices and... Is that sandalwood? Scherezade is a killer intrigue. It is deceptively soft, and masks a prodigious gift for doing away with ill-intended skepticism... This fragrance will weed out and expose the, 'unbeliever' and expose a ripe throat to satiate your generosity and return you to your silvery-tongued best. This is very nice! 4/5.

:::WOLFSBANE::: Wolfsbane's fragrance seems to imply that it is growing at the very edge of the deepest, darkest, sky-scratching forest of Grimm proportions. Having never smelled the actual plant, there is little likelihood that a reasonable comparison could be made to the aromatic signature's authenticity. The Lab's version of Wolfsbane is a hugely forested perfume; barely keeping the snarling, bristling, bloodthirsty, beast at bay. This is, quite possibly, the darkest that green can get before qualifying as black. Wolfsbane smells furry, loamy, sappy, ashen and cold. This resembles a mix of Spruce, Juniper, Pine, Blood, Mud, Ginger, Moss, and Soot. It is difficult to imagine how this stuff would be dissuasive to Lycanthropes. This would be almost home... Heck, this even resembles Loup Garou in a not so small way... However, the Lupine's vastly superior olfactory prowess readily distinguishes the threat to be sure. Nice, brisk, outdoorsy. Rugged and adventurous for Him.

:::OGUN::: Ogun has deep, deep woods. This is the stuff of a mighty Oak's dream. There is a subtle underlying of spice to this that round it off extraordinarily well. There is a dark, dark golden essence to Ogun that seems to be half honeycomb and half vetiver. It would come as no surprise to discover a smidgen of amber lacing the formula and giving it the feel of a mutant version of Abramelin Incense. In downtown Skinville, Ogun's Cinnamony spice amps by a power of ten; the Vetiver and the Woods take a backseat here, making an almost timid counterpoint to the spice's swell, and the whole thing takes on the glow of a symphonic, honeyed sunrise. Ogun is a classic, spicy fragrance that would winter well for a merry gathering of friends. Ogun is Crimson, Coffee, Plum, and Burnt Sienna. Likely to be a keeper for Him. 4/5.

:::GRANDMOTHER of GHOSTS::: This scent could work equally well for the Grandmother of Ghosts by representing either the specter that has haunted dreams before the ancestors of mankind ceased slumbering in trees, or as a Grandmotherly poltergeist that cannot help but be a reassuring presence in times of melancholic reverie. There is certainly wood in Grandmother of Ghosts, likely a sweeter specimen of Cedar. There is a very subtle hint of powder in this formula, and a faint echo of florals that could be Lilac or even Honeysuckle. Grandmother of Ghosts is the mote of dust whirling in a beam of sunlight; dancing, it seems, in an effort to revive a long forgotten memory gazing at you, hauntingly, from across the coffee-table and proffers a piece of Toffee. Grandmother of Ghosts is the faded daguerrotype discovered beneath a wedding dress in a dust-covered steamer trunk in the attic. This is a warm quilt of fragrance that rest in a silent, sunlit room, safe & sound. Somberly unisex.