Circaea

I was frimped this from a generous seller. Wet: fruity, boozy, tart-sweet tropical drink, the kind they serve in an enormous fishbowl-size glass with several straws for you and five friends to enjoy. The booze quickly burns off, and it goes through a brief intoxicating phase like the green fruity joy that was the Prescriptives fragrance Calyx. It doesn't settle there, I'm sorry to say. But it's close. I might try to layer it with some exotic green creamy floral, to get the Calyx memory back. Further drying reveals a woody, but still green-grounded scent, which I'm guessing must be the tea, and now it's reminding me of an old boyfriend, who drank blackberry flavored black tea with milk and sugar every morning in a pint glass, leaving the bags to steep for hours while he smoked weed and played computer games (ah, I loved him madly once). I will definitely use up and enjoy this imp, and I'm so glad I had a chance to try it.

Reminded me of Zest soap, or the clean laundry smell that I like on a man. On my skin, it doesn't give me a headache, like a similar commercial fragrance would do, but it reminds me of that headachey smell, so I won't be wearing this one again. Pleasantly clean and fresh, but not for me.

I had high hopes for Morroco, but, as with Alice, carnation ruined it for me. It isn't that I think carnations smell bad. It's just that the smell reminds me of something I don't want to be reminded of. Anytime I get carnation, my mind pulls up "cheap drugstore perfume" as an association, and I'm back in junior high: short, underdeveloped, invisible, insecure, and desperate to be liked. Morroco, I'm sure you're a great place, for someone else, but I'm leaving now and I won't be coming back.

Bonjour, Madame! Where have you been all my life? Don't have much to add to the other reviews, except to say that this is pure gorgeousness. I need a bottle, and Carnival Diabolique needs to come back. Soon.

Thai food. Seriously. This is making me so hungry. On the plus side, it won't interfere with my enjoyment of my meal. If I'm having Thai food. Which I think I will.

I was diabolically frimped this by a very generous seller. Forgotten were my purchases, as the wicked smoke of an unhallowed fire rose up from my sinister hand. At first, the smell of burning was all, getting stronger and stranger. Then a soft sweet leather and beeswax emerged. This smells similar to Tombstone, one of my favorites, in its dusty herby vanilla, but the beeswax lends a creamy softness. The drydown is all soft lovely beeswax, very gentle, like smokey, salty skin, but better. I immediately had to track down a bottle, even though the Carnivale Diabolique had pulled up stakes and left town. Magically one appeared, of the same vintage (2008) as my clever little frimp, by a seller who shared my birthday. The bottle arrived, and I annointed my left hand. As I put the bottle away, a glass container fell from the bathroom shelf. I picked up the pieces with my right hand and cut it. The unprotected hand... Without delay, I blessed my red right hand with this unholy oil. Use it wisely and its powers are yours.

I have to agree completely with the previous reviewer: this is adventurous, bold and atmospheric; though initially, I do get Vintage Medicine Cabinet, as the dry spiciness hits my skin. As the scent settles, the sarsparilla retreats, the nutmeg comes up and I have the impression of a druggy, smokey Victorian Christmas, the kind where the black sheep of the family drops in with the best of intentions, but as usual screws things up and is shown the door, with orders to get straight or get lost. Alone, he wanders through the foggy streets and finds himself in a haunt of vice, where he proceeds to indulge his worst impulses. I don't think Laudanum is the kind of thing I could wear often enough to justify a bottle, but I believe I will use up this imp, and replace it at some point.

My Tombstone is an imp, from the sales forum, of unknown age. This is becoming my signature scent. There's something about it that I almost crave, and I feel a little undressed without it. Goes on all bitter-medicinal, like I remember Snake Oil being, and goes through a dry, dusty wood phase that reminds me of the desert ranch where I took horse-riding lessons as a kid. Then the vanilla and sarsparilla come in. I don't agree that it's a man's scent. I would describe it as unisex. It's just a soft, warm, dusty, salty and faintly sweet smell that's like skin, but better. I'll be getting a bottle of this (after payday!)

This imp was a decant, of unknown age. White Rabbit is so beautiful on me. My nose interprets the tea/ginger/pepper/honey/linen/vanilla notes as a soft creamy anise over cut grass. A shimmering, dreamy, gentle summer scent. I feel just like Alice, waking from a dream to perceive an irresistible vision which must be followed. I love it.

I must be bad at smelling tea. I didn't detect any citrus, milk or tea in this. On me, Alice was like a peppery exotic floral, a lot like I remember Shalimar smelling. Not unpleasant, but certainly not me.

Went on like pine, but turned fruity on me. I smell like raspberry jam. I wonder how this would be if layered with a chocolate scent? I'm hungry!

Wet, it smells venerable and old, like the vast stone interior of an ancient cathedral. Drying, it goes warm sandalwood and cedar, and seems more like the interior of a cozy, well kept church. It's very beautiful and calm, and goes to the list of "Loves" on my list. By chance, I tested it with a rose scent on my other wrist and got the impression of a vase of roses in a wood panelled room, heady with beeswax polish and age. Definitely a keeper. Both grounded and spiritual, but also amenable to layering with lighter scent notes.

Wet, Wings of Azrael is soaring, beautiful, darkly floral and dramatic. It flutters down as it dries to something softer, like violets in a bouquet surrounded by incense. I love the name, and this scent is truly worthy of it.

This one is so bad on me that I wonder if I just got a bad batch, but I've tried it from two different imps. On my skin it goes on like a mildewed peach, that dries out to burnt fruity plastic. At no stage was it anything like the fresh sweet amber peach that others have noted.

The grapefruit and lime were really subdued in this oil, which I got secondhand, and so can't attest to its original state. It immediately went "rich, refined gentleman's cologne" on me and stayed there. Not a bad cologne; didn't give me headache at all. Even pleasant, with its bergamot and subtle citrus. But I wanted BIG HAPPY citrus, like some of the other reviewers got. It might be that this is one oil that needs to be worn fresh from the Lab. Has anyone got theirs out after a few months and noticed a difference?

In the bottle: light, fresh vanilla. Which it stays for a few magical seconds on my skin. Drying: something bitter and musty, like tea tree oil. Dry: the Desitin Foot Cream that my Dad used to wear. How sad. I guess chamomile doesn't like me.

Mint, caramel and tobacco. My god, I love this one. One drop on my wrist, and I'm instantly a sexy, slimy wicked car salesman. I turn my diamond pinky ring and check the pockets of my Armani suit: cigarettes, gold lighter, cocaine vial, flask, breath mints. I'm one amped up,smoked out, high-flyin' minty-fresh sales machine. I am one dangerous, sexy sociopath. Watch out, world! Incubus totally channels my inner evil animus. I'll try to be careful with this one, but I can't promise the power won't go to my head. ETA: after wearing this for a day, I began to feel woozy and a little sick, like I'd been gambling, drinking, whoring, smoking, sweating and schmoozing all day. As I had been doing none of those things, I lay the blame on Incubus. After the hangover wore off, I swore never to wear Incubus again. It was an interesting scent binge. But not one I wish to repeat.

So sad about 51. I really wanted to like it, but it smells like a department store perfume on me. Which, if it were going to smell like an alcohol-based perfume, I would want it to be like Calyx, light and fresh. This came on heavy, floral, and aggressive. I couldn't find individual notes in it. I don't even want to give it another chance. It reminds me of a rich, bossy older woman.