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Vetiver is easily one of my favorite base notes. Dark, earthy, and somber, it makes an excellent perfume fixative, and radiates a scent that is profoundly relaxing and gently grounding. In aromatherapy, it is used to treat stress disorders, anxiety, and soul-weariness. It is a truly multidimensional scent, possessing more than a hundred and fifty aromatic molecules, and its fragrance grows even deeper - richly sweeter - and more intense with time. This oil is dark and thick, first of all. A droplet on my wrist looked like a cross between a tear from a mascaraed eye and maple syrup. I imagine this could stain your clothes, so I recommend applying it and letting it dry before putting on anything light colored. Now to the scent of it. This vetiver is so complex, and full of glorious contrasts. Intensely grassy and viscous, it smells like the supplest suede and the richest soil, like sacred smoke and lime zest. Sweetness rises to the surface as time passes, but it's an enigmatic, lilting, new-mown sweetness that has to work its way up through miles of the darkest, warmest earth before it blooms on the skin. In conventional perfumery, we talk about a perfume as having top notes, heart notes, and base notes. Vetiver embodies all of these tiers as it develops, and this particular vetiver embodies these tiers in beautiful ways. And it is gorgeously funky, as well as profound, soothing and centering. I can smell why so many people find it therapeutic. I really love this, and if you're a vetiver lover, you probably will too.

I also find Black Phoenix to be quite cherry- it's a rich, powder puff cherry scent with a hint of musky debauchery to it, at least it is on me. I'd definitely recommend at least grabbing an imp of it.

Well, I'm apparently one of the few proud lovers of rosy, regal, opulent Monna Vanna. I'm not one for hording backups myself, so when she's gone, I'll just remember her with delight. But, what a great opportunity to finally nab Kiyohime Changes From a Serpent for my hot weather scent. I've been looking for an aquatic that just really speaks to me (so far only Egle has come close), and I'm a fan of the Kiyohime legend anyways. The Salon collection was most impressive to me, on many levels. I am quite sad to see her leave.

I'd wholeheartedly recommend Monna Vanna (Russian rose, mimosa, gardenia, bois du rose, parma violet, calla lily, red currant, ambergris, and bourbon vanilla), from the Salon collection. It's heady, yet delicate, and I find it very reminiscent of a bygone age in perfumes.

Iago, on me or someone else, it doesn't matter, because it smells like a rain-soaked leather jacket, and the spike of vetiver (designer dirt to this pleased nose) makes it all the more delicious.

Mmm, I really like this. Tenacious ambrette seed provides most of the sweetness, while the coconut makes things milky, warm and erotic. Then along comes that salty, ozone-ish ambergris accord. I daresay without it, this might have turned into one of those conveyor belt "vanilla-ish with a smattering of un-challenging spices" scents- the brooding, grey, oceanic funk of ambergris gives it distinction, and combined with the coconut makes the scent very suggestive of warm skin, wide open windows, and damp sheets. Still, for all the heavy breathing this scent inspires in me, it also feels enigmatic and a bit contemplative. I can't comment on any sugar cane note since it never came to the party. All in all, very sexy.

Double posted.

I cannot be a combo breaker here- fourthing the rec for "The Illustrated Woman". That is a fantastic scent, even in the off chance that the pine pitch element doesn't stick around for you. Also seconding the "Black Forest" rec.

The two jammiest scents I own are Knave of Hearts and Tomoe Gozen- both are currant-rich, not berry-rich, but they each have that sweet/savory quality you seem to be looking for. Knave is the jammier of the two (like, hot-buttered-pastry-dripping-with-preserves level), and it's from the general collection, so that might be worth finding an imp of. Tomoe was a limited edition dealy from 2009, and though it has more fruit (red currants and blackberries), it "feels" less foody-sweet than Knave. Knave is just mouthwateringly dessert-ish to my nose.

Hmm, if I'm going somewhere posh and want to feel as expensive as my surroundings, I reach for Monna Vanna, from The Salon. Something about that timeless, regal, creamy rose note is reminiscent of the classic perfume "Joy", only with more luscious underpinnings, like gardenia, and mimosa, and violet, and lily, and and and...enough already. It's gorgeous.

You might wish to secure an imp of "Pontarlier" from the Wanderlust collection: "The legendary birthplace of the Green Fairy. Swiss ferns, lilac, blackcurrant, Gallic rose and lavender with a dollop of sugar and absinthe." When I wore it, the lilac note was very fresh and prominent.

Itty bitty bump to add a recommendation. The Night Hag Visits the Lapland Witches (Black sandalwood, woodsmoke, Terebinth pine, blue cypress, styrax, frankincense, chamomile maroc, and nutmeg) from the Pickman Gallery "Torment and Reverie" limited series has a gorgeous, authentic woodsmoke note in it, amidst the sandalwood, pine and nutmeg.

Peacock Queen 2010. A scent of piercing purity, as regal and unforgiving as a long red-lacquered fingernail poked into your chest. If you don't practically revere the scent of rose, do not waste her time. I love this.

Not a GC, per se, but what about Philosopher in Meditation, from the Salon? "Smoldering woodfire embers, Galen's Kyphi, and Abramelin incense"

Monna Vanna, how I love you. I love you enough to not be able to really achieve the distance I find necessary to write about things I love. You are just the most beautiful rose blend I have ever smelled, period. It's the smell of a very sumptuous rose wearing a crown of perfect flowers, all picked in their prime. The scent doesn't scream, but it doesn't whisper either- rather, it murmurs. It also comforts and inspires- the scent of a muse, indeed. It is also so old fashioned that it feels utterly new again. Long-lasting, timeless and full of womanly beauty. Yeah, this scent really spoke to me, I have to say. I love the scent of a rose, and for a long time, I wore a single note rose oil for my "fix", and as beautiful as that simplicity is, Monna Vanna is a perfect example of how much a particular note can be enhanced, even exalted, by the presence of other notes. This is my new rose scent, and perhaps a signature scent for me, for as long as it is made. Phenomenal, and thanks for making it.

Dewy green leaves colored by Moroccan amber, ginseng, and rooibos. When I first sniffed this from the bottle, the first thing that came to mind was "good shampoo"- sweet, salon-green, and pleasant. I happen to like that smell, so I was pleased by this. However, the real story of any perfume is told on the skin, so on it went. The simplicity of my first impression made way, as the complexity of crisp green apple peels, leaves dew-dropped with autumn rain, and something almost tannic, like heavily steeped tea, came forward. As those notes settled down, the gentle, ancient and warm scent of amber emerged, adding to the sense of quietude and imparting grace to this scent. Lovely. And I love the imagery this scent brought to mind- the smell goes from the tip of the branch, to the heart of the tree. From leaf to amber, from green to gold. Often green scents I've tried start out very vivacious, and spicy, but then tend to go all high-pitched and discordant on me. Not this green, however. This is one of the few "green" scents that I would describe as gentle, and introspective- very intriguing from start to finish, and very beautiful.

Crushed roses and blackcurrant tarts. I purchased this bottle from a wonderful local retailer that carries BPAL, "Knows Perfume", here in Seattle, so I do not know how fresh or aged this bottle is. Anyway, here we go. First, I am not a foody fragrance wearer, generally- they smell great on other people, and I'm told they smell great on me, but it's a matter of them just not suiting my temperament, for the most part. I am not a yummy, snuggly kind of person, maybe. So I was really taken aback by my attraction to this scent, and I am really glad that I acted on it. In the bottle: Overwhelmingly decadent, wine-soaked roses, and something slathered in warm, salty butter. It makes me pull a face, but then my mouth begins to water. Alarming, yet tantalizing. Wet on the skin: And then it was all wine and smoke and dark, glossy jam. It's as if roses and buttery pastry are waiting in the wings- I can smell the idea of them, but they are not fully present. One thing I know though, sight unseen, is that the roses in this scent are brazen, red goddesses of the garden and the pastry in this would entice an ascetic into good old-fashioned kitchen windowsill thievery. Dry on the skin: Now the Knave is lush and pretty, but with all sorts of peculiarities that keep it interesting instead of unctuously foody and one-dimensional. The rose is right there, nearly confectionery sweet, but salt and hearthsmoke have touched the petals, and I can finally smell blackcurrant simmering in background, piquant and fresh, full of dark wine. There's a crusty, buttery pastry note wafting there too, rich and a bit salty, keeping the sweetness of the rose and black currant from running amok. Drydown: Warm, sweet, smoky, buttery, rosey, and hypnotic, it lingers close to the skin and is very companionable. A little does go a long way, as well. This fragrance feels like so much more than "Crushed roses and blackcurrant tarts"- it's a peculiar symphony of comfort notes swirling like smoke around one hell of a rose bouquet. If you can appreciate (or endure, though personally I loved it) this scent's vivid theatrical opening, the haughty eccentricity eventually gives way to something that's uniquely pretty and profound, all the more so for being just a bit off-kilter. I love it.

What a handsome, strokeable, sinuous Moon. Fledgling Raptor Moon is dark, austere, and sculptural like ikebana, but also wonderfully syrupy like an elixir. The hinoki wood, massoia bark and sandalwood create a stern but sensuous foundation of earth- wood shavings, sun-warmed tree trunks, river bank soil, and sarsaparilla all came to my mind when I smelled this in the bottle. Carnation and bay add a layer of sweet spice, but it is very discreet. The patchouli didn't really come out strongly for me, but I could feel its woody presence nonetheless. All in all, I was really impressed by the richness and discretion of this scent- so many handsome woods, such unobtrusively alluring spice. This is an intimate and inviting scent, warm, regal and mature. I enjoy it now, but I imagine age will make it even better.

I'll start by saying that Tempest's review is a pretty spot-on take of my Joyful Moon experience, overall. Sniffing it from the bottle, I was immediately in swoon country, I must say. Pungent, cheerful, yet mysterious frangipani and a dollop of buttery vanilla. As it warmed on my pulse points, it became golden sweet, with good tobacco-shop scent memories surfacing through the fuzzy embrace of ambrette and orris. True to its name, the scent was making me joyful, in a wistful sort of way. Not bogged down by soppy nostalgia for finer times, rather, a sense of gratitude and satisfaction for the sweetness of what has been. Something odd: on me, this scent seems to disappear, almost entirely, after about half an hour of wear, only to resurface much later as the warmest, most huggable musk scent I've ever worn, which then sticks around for a good long while. I rather love that. The Joyful Moon is a very pretty flirt, and she likes to wander off, I guess. But when she returns, she settles in and makes for delightful company. A wonderful fragrance. Charming, and seemingly light-hearted, but also enigmatic and quite complex. I'm really glad I have a bottle of this. An update: now in October, the white rose note in this has become much more prominent to me. What a fabulous surprise- the rose note here is very creamy, fresh and true, and adds a new layer of haunting beauty to this already wonderful scent.

It's sort of ironic to hear of anti-BPAL snobbery since what led me to BPAL was a positive review on a very snooty indie perfumer's blog. I had not heard of BPAL before. But I suppose it isn't very surprising that there is such a thing, much as there are pockets of anti-conventional perfumery snobbism to be found elsewhere. The way I see it is that with IFRA's shadow looming over all the great old perfumes, and pretty much neutering them in the process, there's never been a better time to embrace the imaginative and unbridled bounty of BPAL. There is much beauty here, both confrontational and comforting, and everything in between- but we know that already. Anyway, some recent imps I've tried brought to mind great scents of my past, so I'll add them here. Brisingamen: The carnation note in this reminded me of the original Malmaison from Floris, ( not the reformulation from 2000 onward) so haughty and creamily remote it was. This was a voluptuous and very refined scent that I'd recommend to a Bellodgia loving non BPAL-er who still thinks perfume oils are strictly for hippies and that resinous scents are by definition "heavy". Glasgow: This is a "simpler" blend than Brisingamen, but I think the blackberry note in this is so much nicer than the one used in L'Artisan's Mure et Musc, and with none of the burnt treacle that comprised the "musc" of that scent. It was strongly reminiscent of my first Annick Goutal love, Eau de Charlotte, but more grownup with the absence of mimosa and cocoa, and the bittersweet presence of rain-soaked heather. The Black Rider: This one is extremely animalistic and sensuous without being crass, and contains one of the best leather notes I've ever smelled. I was also thrilled by the lovely opoponax in this, since I was a huge fan of Diptyque's opoponax candle, which I believe is discontinued (edit: I was wrong-just found it again...I'll be broke forever, but I'll live in a beautifully scented cardboard box under the freeway). Recommended for men new to BPAL and the women who love them, or to women who like leather, like me.

I kindly received this as a frimp with my first order - many thanks for that. in the bottle: Hello Kitty sweet- a downpour of unctious syrup from a vinyl cruet. wet on skin: Two synthetic strawberries met in a headshop, and fell in love. They consummated their love right there in the aisle, with much vigor. A sticky sweet pink fog filled the air. On me, no tartness ever dared to surface- my skin cooked this to a cloying and unsubtle sweetness, alas. dry on skin: Ginger and lily decided to try to intervene. "Excuse me, you two, we're happy for you, but can we get some room?" But the lovers would not listen, and indeed, began to carry on all the louder. I could smell other notes barely, and wanted them to emerge, but the hypersweet berry element would not be denied. final opinion: I found wearing this to be a very evocative experience, and am thankful that I had the chance to wear it. However, this smelled excessively juvenile and one-dimensional on me, never tart, never dark, nor any of the other suave adjectives I've read in the preceding reviews. It sounds as though it smells divine on others, but my chemistry just wasn't having it. Ah well, I'm still immensely grateful for the experience. Onward!

In the bottle: buttery sweet and diffuse, but harmonious. The unapologetic femininity of the lotus greeted me right away, and it certainly did not smell like "bubblegum". It was vaguely reminiscent of a fragrance of my youth, "Ruffles", by Oscar de la Renta. But Lotus Moon is much deeper-it has a more intriguing composition than "Ruffles", which, on me at least, never dared to rise above "innocuously pleasant". Lotus Moon is pleasant to be sure, but with so much sybaritic languor it could hardly be called "innocuous". Wet on skin: Candied, opulent and feminine. No one note dominated. Again, harmonious. Dry on skin: all rosy-gold voluptuousness, soft, warm, idiot-grin inducing. There are no hard angles to this perfume, no edges. That's not to say this perfume has no backbone- it's just that the backbone is languorously at rest. It's the backbone of an odalisque, persuasive, and supple. On me, the pomegranate just hid behind the sandalwood door, while the lotus cast its powdery glow upon the resinous heart and the whole scent lit up with narcotic, creamy, wood tempered sweetness. Rose otto was a discreet and informing presence, but overall this perfume is about harmony, thus the rose never dominated. I fell in love with my wrists over and over again. Although gently heady, this perfume never seemed to be trying too hard, and I love it for its luminous and serene sensuality. Final opinion: This scent put a smile on my face from the moment I smelled it. It is a murmured invitation to partake in unhasty pleasures, serene and confident, but it is also simply gladdening and easy to wear, bypassing the usual categorizations of use like "day" and "night". This is something to wear anytime. Sillage isn't much of an issue with this- it wears very close to the skin. It stuck around for a long time on me- I put it on at 5:30 PM and it was still warmly, fuzzily evident at 9 this morning. I'll treasure this bottle, but I won't horde it- it's getting used. Beautiful stuff. This was my first order from Black Phoenix, and I was overwhelmingly pleased. Thank you so much.