Kit Foxly

First impression: This is a Big scent! A small swipe on the wrist was almost headache-inducingly strong, and smellable from the other end of the couch – even I could pick it from a metre away! I'l have to be careful with this one... That said, I've learned the quantity I need in an application, and it's become one of my staple scents. It's a favourite for singing work. The Lion is fairly simple compared to some of the complex layer-upon-layer BPAL scents, but that simplicity gives it a glorious elegance. Amber, cinnamon, lovely – it's a warm, almost creamy gold, bright like spring-afternoon sunlight. The Cat noted that the first few times I tried it, I seemed much happier after it had settled on my skin. So for me at least, it's a mood-lifter, too. There's something about being surrounded by a warm golden nimbus that makes me lift my head high and smile - who'd have thought?

On application, this reminds me of the awesome sherbet lollipops that don't seem to exist outside Australia. It's citrus-fruity, effervescent, and fun. There's the slightest touch of something that I want to call musk in the background – slightly creamy, slightly powdery. It's not my sort of scent at all, but I can see fruit fans loving it. Unfortunately for me, though, it dries down to rose, rose, rose, and causes a throbbing headache. Oh, rose, you turn up in the darndest places. Wasn't my sort of scent anyway, thankfully, but the headache wasn't fun.

I have to confess: I was trying to get ahold of White Rabbit, and got a little confused. I smell of apricots. It's a fairly authentic smell of apricots, but I'm not sure apricots are something I want to smell like! March Hare does exactly what it says on the box. If I liked smelling like fruits, I'd be set. It's a fine scent that doesn't do horrible things on me, but it's really not to my taste. Which I guess at least means I was right when I looked at the description and decided it didn't need to go on my shortlist? While the touch of clove adds warmth and depth, it's still first and foremost a fruity scent, and first-and-foremost-fruity scents weren't what I was aiming for. Things could be worse, but this is one for swaps. The sweet, apricotty scent of vindication. Or something.

Goes on with a whoosh of chocolate, a sour-tang twist of the jalapeno, and a serious WOW. It's a glorious colour, too - a rich red-orange. Fortunately, I haven't managed to stain anything with it yet... As it dries, the tequila comes out to play with the chilli, and the incense rises with a hint of amber and a curl of smoke, but the chocolate stays in the background with the cajeta to give it all a warmth and sweetness. I was worried about this being too foody, but it's a well-balanced scent that plays nicely with both my skin chemistry and my tastes. It lasts for 12+ hours most times I apply it, and stays delectable all that time. The Cat loved this, and so did I. (Cajeta is dulce de leche by another name, as I've discovered a couple of months after deciding I loved this one! This amuses me intensely - I couldn't get away from dulce de leche when I travelled in South America - I swear it followed me around and snuck into my food if I glanced away for a moment. And now I want to wear it. Oh, the irony...) One important and odd note – this scent interferes with sleep for me. If I put it on after about 6pm, it will keep me awake until the small hours! (The few nights I've managed to sleep with it on, I unfailingly woke between 4 & 5am and couldn't get back to sleep) Weird, and not entirely convenient...

All these promising reviews here, the promise of masculine manly man-smell, notes of leather, musk and resins, and I get... Baby powder. Leather that's been marinated in baby powder until you can barely smell its initial leathery scent, with a touch of the herbs (sage more than basil, and a bemusing touch of lavender) if I really try and pinpoint them. Five hours later, the frankincense has come out along with some muskiness and the result is much nicer, but still powdery. If this is “The embodiment of Classic masculinity” then I am amused.

Indeed a “golden” scent, but darker than I expected, as well as drier and more masculine. None of these are bad things! Aureus was love at first swipe for me. Glorious, soaring amber notes, tempered by resins and delicious smoky undertones. This is a warm and welcoming golden radiance, not a blinding kneel-before-me light. I bought a bottle the day after I tried it. With notes of cedar and frankincense, maybe the lightest touch of sandalwood, it smells a lot like church incenses, but... dare I say it... nicer than many that I've smelled. And without the acrid note of actual smoke, which is difficult to sing through when you breathe a lungful! This has become my go-to fragrance for singing at churches - it captures the way I want to sound in a scent. It's getting a lot of use right now as I go Christmas carolling, actually. It lasts for hours, though it behaves itself and mostly sticks close to the skin. It certainly hasn't bothered the other singers I've performed with, to my knowledge. Just as well, because I'd hate to give it up.

Oh, this was a tease! The whoosh of honey, cinnamon and vanilla on initial application was amazing enough that it went onto the bottle list – for about fifteen minutes. As it dried down, those lovely scents were kicked into the background by the florals, which added a nostril-curling edge – remarkably disappointing after such a promising start! I like the scent of jasmine normally, but combine it with the other florals here and something scary happens. Enough sandalwood comes forth to give that slightly-soapy, almost-hippie-shop tinge to the whole affair. Sigh. Maybe it's worth trying on cloth/hair to see if it can hold that initial wonderfulness? I'm sure I can find the wonderfulness elsewhere, though...

Definitely not for me, this one. Very floral-perfumey and sweet-woodish, with only a hint of the ozone and spices that I was hoping for. The scent is more along the lines of the laundry-detergent aisle (which always gives me a headache) than something I'd wear – though it's not nearly as bad as the detergent. I smile ruefully at the people who got a sense of masculinity out of this - for me it was femme all the way, which is exactly what I wasn't after! It faded after a couple of hours to a sweet spiciness that I like, but that then disappears within minutes. So yeah - sadly, not a keeper for me.

I will have to re-test this. It smelled like cake – slightly lemony cake, which was probably the verbena and the ginger over that creamy almost-vanilla that some people note, but cake. And grass. The mental image was light moist cake - maybe lemon chiffon - being eaten on a picnic blanket in the sun. So I suspect the warmth and golden scent of the amber came through too, just not in its usual glorious and recognisable forms. Don't know where the summer rain was. Or the sage, though I suspect that's the "grassy" note. Nice, enough – it's a fairly subdued and subtle scent, but comforting. I mean, cake! I don't think it's a bottle scent for me, but I may well keep the imp for those days when... er, when smelling like cake seems desirable? Are there such days?

[Review of the 2007 version.] I was curious about this one, given its similarity to my beloved Tiresias - the prospect of another awesome scent in the same family (with the addition of amber!) had lots of appeal. It's quite nice, but for me it's not on the same level as Tiresias, sadly – the opium & delphinium, presumably, add an edge to it that outweighs the amber (which barely makes it out of the drydown for the first 6-8 hours, sadly!). I tested this without re-checking the notes first. Interestingly, The Cat picked up the coconut, when I had no idea it was in it – he reckoned the whole thing smelt like Burts Bees' coconut-based Milk & Honey moisturiser. Heh. I should note that by 10pm - eight hours after application - the amber, caramel-spice combination and just a touch of the tobacco depth are all that's left, giving me a tantalisingly lovely cross between Tiresias and The Lion. Wretched tease of a scent! It'd be a keeper for sure if I hadn't had to wait the whole afternoon for this!

Test #1 Ooh, I like this. I just hope it likes me... Foody and moody and changeable on initial application – caramel and spiced blackcurrant, with a hint of something else. As others have observed, it's foody, but not too foody, in a way that's hard to articulate. Touches of smoke peek through and then settle back to prowling in the background, touches of darkness come and go. To my relief, this sandalwood doesn't want to eat me alive, unlike some. About 15 minutes in, though, the fingertips that got oil on as I applied this frimp to my wrist, and the hair that I wiped them on, all smelled of rancid food. Not quite spoiled milk or off meat, but close to both – erk! They stayed that way, though not so strongly after ~30 mins (whether that was wiping them off or just time, I don't know) The wrist, however, remained fine all night. Strong, though – didn't seem to bother the people around me, but The Cat could smell it from the other side of the car. He thought it smelled "nice," though he also confirmed the rancid-food smell when sniffing my fingertips up close! Gah! Oddly enough, sniffing my wrist the next morning I could catch the blackcurrant again, and only that – mmm, Ribena. Must try this again, and hope! Test #2 Tried it again since a bottle was on eBay – all of the good, and none of the scary rancid food smell this time. The Cat reiterated that I smelled nice, and confirmed the lack of off-food reek, so I think I'm safe. I ended up with the bottle from eBay, and then picked up a second from the Lab; fortunately, I haven't had the unpleasant rancid odours show up again in the two years I've been wearing it. Perhaps that was cross-contamination or something, affecting only my frimp? Or a rare weirdness of skin chemistry, or something I touched that day? Either way, I'm glad it's staying away, because this has become one of my favourites, and I'd hate to have it spoiled by, well, smelling spoiled!

Undique obscura regnabat nox, surgite tandem laeti qui timuistis adhuc, et jucundi aurorae fortunatae. frondes dextera plena et lilia date. I wore this for a touch of chill on a 32-degree (90F) day. Sadly, it's not nearly as much to my taste as Nuclear Winter. It's got many of the same elements - that ozoneyness, possibly a hint of one of the mints, the same sorts of snow/winter note, even the touch of sweetness – but they're combined with crystalline, pale florals, very feminine and “perfumey” to my nose, and I'm just not the femme floral sort. No snowstorms here, nor any darkness to speak of – not a hint of the smoke or incense some mention, which is a shame because I like those notes as a rule. No, this is all whites, ice- and pastel-blues. It's pretty, but I'm not after pretty. I prefer my archangels with broadswords, not lilies, in their hands! It does last impressively on my skin (12 hours & counting!), and oddly, after about the eighth or ninth hour the florals have been ebbing and returning; sometimes it's almost Nuclear Winter, sometimes it's definitely not...

[This review is for the 2009 version. I tested this in 2010, but never posted my notes.] Oh, Raven Moon. You sounded so intriguing, and ravens have been important symbols in my life for twenty years now. I very much wanted you and I to get along. Why have you turned into a Single-Note Clove scent and stayed that way for the entire evening? You are strong and penetrating, and overpowering everything else that I'm trying tonight... and you smell of cloves, and nothing but cloves. I don't mind cloves, but I wanted so much more from you, and I'm not getting any of it. Seriously, cloves aren't even in you – what are you doing??? At some point I may have to try the 2012 version to see how they compare, but 2009's Raven discouraged me from taking the risk on it unsniffed...

Such promising notes – amber, honey, cardamom, hay – and I get floral soap. Remarkably reminiscent of “Country Life” soap, so perhaps there's something rustic-themed that the two have in common, but... it's soap. And a nasty undertone of something mouldering beneath it. Erk. After only an hour or two, with the decay-smell coming and going all that while, it disappeared almost entirely - leaving behind a hint of amber and sweet grass that weren't part of the scent before. Well, Hay Moon, I didn't like you either.

Warm, soft tufts of down and gleaming tawny feathers: clove, toasted sandalwood, aged patchouli, bourbon vanilla, carnation, massoia bark, hinoki wood, and West Indian Bay. [i tested this in 2010, but never posted my notes.] I suspect this is one where my preconceptions of what it should be are affecting my perceptions of what it is. I wanted to love it - the concept is lovely, and resonates strongly with me. This starts out as living tree (the bay, I think?) and turns into dry woods - mostly sandalwood and clove - on my skin. A touch of the vanilla peeks through intermittently to undercut the sense of Hippie Shop, but little more. It smells like a pile of aromatic woods waiting to be set on fire for aromatic smoke, basically. I like it after several hours, when it's a whisper of dry sandalwood-topped woodyness, and if it smelt that way for the first few hours I'd probably have been swayed enough to get it. None of the feathery softness that other people get made it to me, and that's sad since that's basically what I was looking for. I wanted it to be better than it is because I'm fond of the concept, and that makes it hard to just conclude that it's not for me. That, however, is the inevitable conclusion. Alas.