Invidiana

This is all spice, smoke and shadows, three things I absolutely love. It's an autumn night heavy with the aroma of apple and pumpkin pies baking and smoke rising from chimneys and bonfires, with the splash of booze and haze of musk making it even more interesting. My skin tends to amp clove and cinnamon (which I definitely don't mind! ) so this might have come out spicier with my body chemistry than others'. Definitely a winner for me!

First of all, I'm a candy corn fanatic, so I was biased towards this one before it ever even arrived in my mailbox. And once it did, I couldn't get my nose out of it! It smells exactly like candy corn and just makes me crave the evil sugary stuff even more (does it help that there's a ginormous jar of it in the kitchen?) No fancy metaphors here, just one very concise overall verdict:

This an eerily gorgeous wood fragrance. The first time I put it on I was so intrigued my nose was basically glued to my wrist. I don't know how Beth does it but it seems that every fragrance she concocts truly evokes its name. Then again, I might just be one of those freaks of nature whose body chemistry goes with just about everything But seriously, smelling this really put me on the front lawn of a ramshackle house at the witching hour on Halloween, right next to a knobbly oak tree overgrown with lichens and vines. Bewitching! It also lasts for hours and has a great throw.

If anyone here has ever tried PumKing Spiced Pumpkin Ale and loved it as much as I did, this one's for you. It's a dead ringer. The smooth, buttery pumpkin is balanced with a warm golden undertone that isn't boozy at all. I need to get another bottle of PumKing before I drink from this one by accident!

This smells like a wonderfully spicy maple-pumpkin pie and lasts forever! As time passes I can pick out the cranberry and strawberry and a hint of musk if I concentrate hard enough, but I'd rather just let my senses absorb all the deliciousness without overanalyzing.

Out of the bottle, Harvest Moon is a hayfield, but once it touches my skin something magical happens. The hay lifts and leaves an enchanting blend of apples and spices that reminds me of apple-picking at an orchard in upstate New York and stopping by the farmstand for cider and cinnamon donuts afterward. Beautiful and thoroughly evocative of autumn.

Samhainophobia is indeed black and menacing. There is something ancient about that is perversely irresistable, tempered by a sweet undercurrent from the patchouli (note: I amp anything remotely sweet so this might just be my body chemistry). It's the turn-of-the century stone house down the street that had a bullethole in the window and a faceless mannquin staring out. It's the one Halloween we passed a convicted rapist's house, heard a rustling in the leaves and bolted like crazy. It's the creepy old man's door I always dreaded knocking on when going trick-or-treating. The sinister scent of Samhainophobia evokes a centuries-old basement haunted by vestiges of mysterious and evil things.

Midnight smells exactly like what you'd expect the hour of midnight to smell like. I'm usually wary of florals but took a chance on this one. This isn't your average commerical makeup-counter floral. This is a dark floral, a very darkly beautiful floral. It's teeming with elusive things that don't bloom until the moon is high. There is also a sweet, almost creamy undertone that wonderfully balances the flowers and could throw you into a swoon if you're not wary. Midnight is the essence of being seduced by a vampire in the flower garden of an ancient manse in New Orleans.