Thursdae

This morning, I put The Star on. It's been rolling around in my to-try box for months because I sniffed it and it seemed pretty uninspiring in the imp. After a minute on my wrists, it exploded--ZING! ZOWIE! ZAPPO! I can't wait for The Star to dry down because I think it's going on the bottle list. Lime and coconut without being suntan lotion--how can it be?!

I wave my wrist under his nose. "Guess what it's called!" "Hmm," he says, taking a deep breath. He coughs, and says, "Cotton candy!" I am vexed. "It's called Smut!" He takes another whiff. "No, I know what smut smells like, and that ain't it. That's sweet--it's cotton candy!" I flounce away with my candy-sweet self, but he calls after me, "Hey, hang on to that one. It really clears me out." Smut. For when you were hoping to rev 'em up but only succeeded in clearing 'em out.

To me, Polyhymnia is a lovely citrus/sage. I covet it, but first I have to do a wrist-by-wrist comparison with Embalming Fluid. I love EF so so much that I wonder if I would tend to reach for it when in need of a waft of fragrant lemon. Going by memory (unreliable, I know), EF is sweeter and Poly is more herbal. Smelling Polyhymnia brought a smile to my face. Definitely a keeper.

So me and Antique Lace are going down the road, and I'm saying, "Hey, Antique Lace, how you doing?" and Antique Lace is saying, "I am like so mysterious." I'm like, "Mysterious? You're like that time I took my littlest doll and played hide'n'seek with her and found the best place ever to hide her: on top of the light bulb in the tall floor lamp in the living room." Antique Lace turns her face away from me and shrugs one shoulder haughtily. "I mean in the best way," I say, talking fast. "I loved her, even after the fire. She had no hair and her skull was melted in the back but she had a special smell forever." A breeze swirls Antique Lace's organza skirt. "Others think I'm mature and enticing. Lots and lots of people," and she leans close to whisper in my ear, "say I'm sexy." "Nup," I say. "Nuppers. Baby doll." So that's it about Antique Lace, but let me tell you about the time me and Hell's Belle were hanging by the fire on a cold winter's night . . .

I put Envy on my wrists, then closed my eyes and breathed in its essence. I immediately had a vision of a flower, a flower that I knew but couldn't name as its pink and blue spikes flashed in my mind's eye. Then I saw the little purple cone-heads of grape hyacinths, and the spell was broken. Hyacinths, hyacinths, although not exactly that, and not just that. I mean, last time I had a hyacinth bloom in my house, the overpowering fragrance made me put the plant outside on the patio or risk a headache. Envy was the opposite, beckoning me to keep sniffing instead of pushing me away. As it dried down, Envy made me crave a dish of tart sherbet. So now I want sherbet as well as a bottle of Envy!

Ophelia--vividly white--an intoxicating floral that actually brought my husband to his knees. It's going on my bottle list but it will take some time to use up the imps as it has great intensity.

Cobra Lily has the swoony stargazer lily scent down pat. I thought it might be too strong when I sniffed it, but I put some on last night and you know what? It was just right.

I didn't like Psyche. At first, it smelled great, then it began to smell like someone had pulled up a lavender plant and dumped it, roots and dirt and all, in the room. I think the frankincense may have been the note that turned me off. For lavender, I prefer Temple of Dreams, which has a rounded, soothing aroma. For rose, I prefer Two, Five & Seven, a warm, enveloping rose.

I really like Temple of Dreams. Not for wearing--I run the imp wand lightly over my pillowcase at bedtime. Temple of Dreams has a rounded lavender aroma that I find soothing. It's not overpowering. I tried a single drop of straight Bulgarian Lavender essential oil on the front of my nightgown and it pretty much stopped my breathing. Had to throw the nightgown out of the room. Now I've got a bottle of Temple of Dreams on order.

I like Temple of Dreams. I didn't like Psyche. At first, it smelled great, then it began to smell like someone had pulled up a potted lavender plant, and dumped it, dirt and all, in the room. I think the frankincense was the culprit. But Temple of Dreams has a rounded lavender aroma that I find soothing. Not for wearing--I run the imp wand lightly over my pillowcase at bedtime. And I've ordered a bottle! This thread has lots of great suggestions. I want to try some of the other lavender scents!

Knowing nothing about Delirium, I put a touch of it on the back of my hand and took a whiff. Fabulous honeysuckle! Wow. But those top notes can confoozle me, because a couple of minutes later, that sweet, late-afternoon sunshine smell was gone. I groped to place the odor, and came up with a spray room-freshener, from back in the day when the ozone layer was too far away to care about. I checked the description, and was pretty surprised to find Delirium combines lemon, apple, and rose. I can't detect either apples or lemons, which is a shame because I adore both. I need to let it settle for an hour and see what develops, maybe get a second opinion. For a moment, I thought I'd found another love-of-my-life oil. It's definitely earned a couple of second chances.

There is something in both Séance and Kostnice that doesn’t settle comfortably on my skin. This note, whatever it may be, keeps parting the velvet curtains of incense, disrupting my reverie by squeaking, “More pickle relish?” They both have rosewood. I wonder if that could be it. I know getting pickled doesn't bother everyone, but it makes me want to go all Hamlet on this Polonius. “Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!”

There is something in both Kostnice and Séance that doesn’t settle comfortably on my skin. This note, whatever it may be, keeps parting the velvet curtains of incense, disrupting my reverie by squeaking, “More pickle relish?” I know this doesn’t happen to everyone, but it makes me want to go all Hamlet on this Polonius. “Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!”

I wanted to love Black Lotus because of its name. I’m sad that it smelled weird on me; I got no fruity, no sweetie, no gummy, no cherry, just a twisted darkness pouring out of a dry and splintered sarcophagus, all its precious contents looted and scattered on the sands.

First, I can't write a real review of Bess. The imp broke in transit from the lab to me. The debris smelled beautiful, though, mostly floral with a sprig of sweet herbalness. I almost didn't want to clean up the mess because I enjoyed the smell so much. (Of course, I did have to clean up because I wanted to get at all the other treasures.) To me, Bess didn't seem like a white floral or a rosy floral or a spicy floral like carnation. It smelled like a meadow as it warms in the morning sun, making me want to romp and chase butterflies and make dandelion chains. Despite the fact that I didn't get to try it on my skin, Bess is going on my bottle list.

At first, Hexennacht smelled like a dream. A dream of walking in the forest at dusk, as dampness rises from the pine duff, and somewhere far away a fire crackles and beckons you to come closer and stay warm. Less powerful in the evergreen-needles component than Black Forest, with a sweet core of feminine perfume. But within five minutes, the perfumy smell overwhelmed the intriguing, natural smells, and I realized that I had put far too much on. "Too much perfume" is a state that alarms me. My head can't take it and threatens to explode unless I wash it off. I'll try Hexennacht again sometime, with care. No more than half a drop. Actually, I think I'll do a wrist-by-wrist comparison with Black Forest, which I immediately loved. I probably don't need both.

This is the house that Jack built. This is the pumpkin pie so sweet That lay on the sill of the house that Jack built. This is the spoonful of booze that tipped Into melting butter, gently dripped, And the homey spice of cider sipped, And the cloudy softness of fresh cream whipped, To make the pumpkin pie so sweet That lay on the sill of the house that Jack built.

Embalming Fluid is as lovely, light, and melting as a lemon mousse. On me, it requires lavish application to lift it off my body and into the air. One of my top ten favorites.

A scent aflame with rage, swirling in the red haze of hatred: dragon's blood spiked with black pepper, clove, and cinnamon. I had to wash Wrath off. One drop of it on my wrists and neck was enough to fill two rooms and a hallway with its pungency. Yet I love Bengal, another cinnamon/pepper/clove combination. Bengal is a sinuous clarinet. Wrath is a trumpet.

Bengal on me is cinnamon spice that stays civilized, with a candylike drydown. One of my top ten favorites. Bengal gives off a restrained warmth that is far more come-hither than I expected, having had to wash Wrath off (one drop was enough to fill two rooms and a hallway with its pungency). Wrath is a trumpet. Bengal is a sinuous clarinet.

A crisp, pale, almost translucent rose dusted by moonflower and midnight dew. At first, Moon Rose smelled like roses, not the spicy kind of rose, but more like the petals of a bridesmaid’s bouquet. The moonflower opened a few minutes later, which made the sensation of smelling the fragrance move up higher in my nose. Not sharper as of thorns but more pointed than rose alone. Some of these reviews have mentioned dew, which I always associate with lawns and leaves that are drenched and sparkling in the first light of dawn. This is not that, to me. This is far more a late evening drifting into twilight, with the sky going indigo and the moon blushing at the horizon. It’s sweet but not heavy or syrupy. I think it would suit young and old alike.

A tropical, humid, lush scent, with a faint echo of Pacific breezes, jungle blossoms, and deep wet woods. Sampaguita blossoms, banana leaf, palm, and narra. On me, Manila started out fruity and sweet like Wrigley's Juicyfruit gum. Then a cedarwood note developed. My husband said it smelled pretty. I will try it again and see what happens when I'm not just getting over a cold, but it didn't bowl me over with its loveliness like Aizen-Myoo did.

Baneberry smelled very green to me, but not minty green, more like the greenery in the lower layer of a shady forest. It didn't smell berrylike on me. Herbal. Not soapy.