Naamah_Darling

Musk backed with resin and clean greenery, dirtied with the promise of leather and amber. This is very incense-like, actually, a deep, throaty, masculine scent that's equal parts masculine swagger and elegance. It has a smoky, rich darkness to it, a woody heaviness, that's only barely lightened by the crisp scent of crushed fir needles. The leather is a masculine, meaty throb way down in there, all bound up with the smoke. This is incredibly manly, unmistakeably; manly enough to the point that even if a woman were to wear it, it would smell like she was wearing her husband's cologne. The drydown is that smoky, murky wood note that I find so frustrating; it seems to steal the distinction from a lot of my favorite scents after only a few minutes. As it ages . . . pencil shavings. Yeah. F***. The pencil-shaving smell lingers for far too long, sitting nastily on top of the other notes. It winds up a gorgeous and rather arcane blend of smoke, spiced musk, and the darkest, tarriest amber resin. It's the cedar that does this one in for me, which is too bad, since the final phase is so very cool.

Pale night flowers and a cool, sweet overtone make this a very light scent. It goes on heavy with jasmine, the musk a heavy purr far in the background. The vanilla isn't there up close or in the throw, it hovers in a middle zone about six inches from my skin, all tangled with the violet. This is a very quiet but powerful scent, modest in throw but with a faint edge to it. It's very feminine, and very adult. An almost traditional perfume, but one with enough layers to give it some subtlety and enough depth to keep it from being all shrieking topnote. Quite pretty, though it's not my thing. As it ages, the violet comes out more, and it starts eating the other notes, so I know this isn't going to work, but I'm giving it the thumbs-up for people who like florals. This one is cool, resonant, and just the slightest bit distant, similar in feel if not in actual scent to Night's Pavilion. Very pretty, slightly wistful, and just a touch of cool green sweetness.

Labdanum, cedar, teak and red rose. In the bottle a thick and lovely mixture of rose and resin. It goes on hot and heady, roses with a hint of wood, and a strong draft of incense to draw it all together. This is beautiful from the first moment it touches my skin. It doesn't change much as it wears, which is a very good thing as it's a lovely scent. It just stays warm rose and incense, with a slightly dry woody sweetness hovering about the edges. Though I feared the cedar, it doesn't really come out. I can't smell it at all. Delightful! This is a truly beautiful scent, one I hadn't expected to love as much as I do. But I do love it, and I'll have to order me a bottle. There aren't many reviews of this, and I'm forced to wonder if that's because nobody's trying it. Get with the program, folks! This is a lovely scent, and one that rose fans shouldn't pass up!

This is so faint in the bottle – a trace of almond and that tobacco sweetness, a hint of spice, and the faint clarity of pine. On, it's . . . wow. That's masculine, self-assured, and just a little off-kilter. The almond is low, a creaminess that mixes with the sarsaparilla, yet this doesn't smell like root beer at all. The dominant notes are the tobacco, which blends with the sarsaparilla for a truly unique waft, and patchouli-pine for the up-close finish. The pine here is very woody, not green at all. This is a boxwood smell, and it stays nicely in the background. There's something meaty and close about this scent, almost unnerving, because it reminds me so intensely of what a person would smell like. And it only gets more unnerving, like I'm starting to smell like someone else. I really can't put my finger on it, but this is the first BPAL scent to truly upset me. Gaueko unnerved me a little, but this . . . this bothers me. Which isn't fair, because it's a good smell. I really like it, except for the part where I really don't. Okay. Now I know what it is. Partly, at least. The particular combination of smoke, pine, and sarsaparilla smells a lot like the powder they use on latex gloves, and it's giving me a gut-level "yuck" reaction. The same thing happened to Spanked, but this is even more intense. Spanked had sexy and playful going for it, too. On me, this is shuddering, single-note gynecologist. Combined with the name of the scent, I find this unbearably funny.

Oh! Musk, musk, musk, nice to meet you! And patchouli. On, this smooths from the initial rough and tumble into a throaty new-agey scent that is just slightly sweetened by the plum and vanilla. And . . . pomegranate! Yes, just a hint. This is marvelously dark and swirling, complex and earthy, a close-in skin scent that is not overpowering but is certainly intoxicating. The sweet notes are all in the middle third, sandwiched between the musk and the patchouli, so this is not overly sugary or foody. A very close whiff brings up the sweetness of the vanilla and pomegranate along with a sharp, woody tingle of the patchouli. The notes keep playing with each other, bouncing off each other, interacting in strange and unexpected ways. This patchouli is interesting – it's very green, with a hint of sap. That must be the leaf that I'm smelling, because it's almost evergreen in tone, while still retaining that patchouli purr. It's almost . . . almost like cedar. The sweetness of the fruit leavens it, but this is by no means a sweet scent. The sugary notes are definitely in the backseat here, adding atmosphere, not body. It's a very sophisticated and adult blend, slightly heavier on the musk than the patchouli, and it's got a lot of stay. This one is light, but it lingers for hours, and the final phase of it is a simply gorgeous spiced patchouli musk that just begs for cuddling and pillow-talk. A little like Snake Oil, what with its depth and spiciness and strong patchouli.

Yes, this is very dark chocolate and thick, sweetened cream. This is rich and foody, and absolutely luscious! There's another note here, a very faint sweet perfume note, like brown sugar, vanilla, and something vaguely . . . floral? It's way down in there, buried deep, and it keeps this from being solely chocolate and whipping cream. As it wears, it becomes apparent that the sweet note is most likely a light cinnamon or cassia, if not perhaps the chocolate itself; it's spicy and foody, a spiced chocolate with very sugary, almost nutty cream. This is a simple scent. And for what it is, it's simply delightful. Recommended for chocolate and food lovers. This has moderate throw and a lot of persistence. Beautiful.

Cherry and gingery cardamom open this dark tune. Patchouli, too, like a steady, low drone. And, my! On my skin it's boldly Cherry Coke for a minute, before the cardamom forces itself between the patchouli and cherry. This is still cola-like, all the moreso for the cassis (currant liqueur). It's sweet and potent, dark, effervescent, and very warm. Low notes on a hot breeze, indeed. This gets more patchouli and cardamom as it ages, a spicy, lively combination that is nevertheless quite shadowy. The sweetness backs off a bit, and then I can really smell the depth in this scent. Nice. Not overwhelming, but nice.

This just smells odd. Quite odd and quite beautiful. In the bottle this is sweet and incensey, with a freshness to it that might be the flowers. They don't come fully out until it hits the skin, though. Then, watch out! Because the flowers are quite strong. The sugar is there in the background, blending in with the sweetness of everything else. It's hard for me to pull notes out of this. The incense is very nag champa to me, a sort of gently golden and vaguely floral incense, smoky and sweet. The florals are harder; jasmine perhaps, and maybe honeysuckle. This is a tad soapy on me, but not as bad as most florals. It's not what I'd call a complicated scent, but it is very well blended. The individual notes harmonize so beautifully that it's difficult to pick them out one at a time. The whole is a very perfumey scent, with just enough incense to lend it some mystery and just enough sweetness to keep it warm and friendly. Very girly.

Citrus, vanilla and coconut front this in the bottle, chased with a dark lash of musk. It goes on fresh but foody, sweetness tinged with florals and a hint of incense that's diabolical in a most delectable way. The notes blend perfectly, from the dark base notes straight up to the light lemon zing at the top. A wonderful opening to the series. The lemon backs off after a while, leaving a husky mix of coconut, musk, and vanilla deviled up with some creeping opium, that smoky, spicy, crumbly and venomous smell that threads through the background of this complicated and unlikely scent. The notes here harmonize beautifully. Flawlessly. This has decent throw, but not as much stay as I might wish. The finish is powdery, resinous smoke and grimy musk with a touch of vanilla and coconut. Though it contains a lot of florals, I'm classing this as gender neutral – it's sweet and a bit foody, but the opium and musk in it is enough to tip it back the other way. A fine scent with a great deal of character.

This smells like rosy, fruity, lotusy love. It's a thick, dewy, nectary floral that is all body and no restraint. Unalloyed, sugary floral! It's almost berry-like in its richness. On, it deepens a little to a sweet, light, energetically affectionate blend that is rich the way cream is rich – it's almost overwhelming. The throw is radiant but not too assertive. It settles a little into a very damp, watery floral that is equally rose and lotus, still sweet but a little aquatic. Sweetly feminine, almost little-girlish, simple and playful and bright. Not my style, but definitely a pretty, pretty scent. It wears well, doesn't go too dusty or dry, and just kind of fades gracefully out of existence.

Woody and smoky in the bottle, this is sharply acrid, at once perfume-y and intensely burnt smelling. There's a chemical smell to this, almost like camphor, but it isn't clean in the slightest. Not sure I want to smell like this, but here goes nothin'. . . . On, a resinous incense comes out, along with smoking green wood. It smells like incense strewn over burning coals. A whiff of bonfire smoke prowling through the dark. Bitter ashes and salty tears. Hot iron, a hint of grasses and sweet leather, the smell of smoke caught in hair. Intense, smoldering, and wicked. And underneath, there is still the scent of pride, of dignity, of refinement, and of terrible, terrible strength. It smells more intensely of incense the longer it dries and finishes to the wet, bitter scent of the flesh side of rabbit skin. Weird. This smells so much like my esoteric supplies drawer, full of leather and charcoal and incense and candles and soot. Incredible. And not for everyone. It really must not be judged by what it smells like in the bottle, it has to be tried on, and you have to give it a minute. A lot of people are talking about layering it to tone it down, and it is an intense scent; not one for everyday wear, but I love it. Layered with De Sade this is the ultimate alpha-male power scent. Even my husband thinks it smells like "sex on toast."

Roses, jasmine, and musk front this, with a wisp of sweet orange. It's quite traditional and beguiling. On, the bergamot and mandarin come out, along with the myrrh, and it becomes a warm, sweet blend that is not too floral and not too musky. It's a very soft, deep-pile scent, lush and sexy and warm. There's no false note in this – the blend is perfectly balanced between floral, sweet, and sexy, and it's every bit as lovely as I had thought it would be from the description. The musk here is a very rich, light, golden musk, and it twines with the myrrh and the jasmine to give the scent an exotic and regal flair, while the roses give it sweetness and the faint citrus serves to give it just a little more edge. It sweetens up a lot as it ages, becomes a syrupy golden scent of jasmine and spiced rose and musk. Just fantastic. I wish I could find something more colorful to say about it, but I'm really just swept away by this one.

Waaaaugh! It's sharply herbal and bitter in the bottle, not at all mellow or refined. Since this is a sleep blend, and not really so much for perfume wear, I will not review it based solely on its smell. This is probably a good thing. It goes on sour and citric, like melting lemon candy over lavender. Or that may be bergamot – it smells a bit like Froot Loops cereal. Also like the verbena I have in my front yard. I can't say I care for this. It's like disgruntled dish soap taking aim at my sinuses with lavender-scented hollowpoints. There is a persistent sourness to it that is both clarifying to the sinuses and choking in the throat. Gack! It evens out to a lemony/lavender scent, rather soothing and yet invigorating. I have terrific insomnia so I couldn't get to sleep quickly enough to say whether this improved my dreams. By the time I passed out it had mostly worn off. The sleep I did get was restful, so I must have spent much of it in REM. Still, it's yucky enough I don't think I'll wear it again even for therapeutic effect.

Whoo! That's a powerful floral. This is a lacy, wet scent that is equally cool lavender and jasmine, very blue and white and purple. In the back is a sharply sweet, thickly golden floral that is the honeysuckle. This is very much moonrise in an early summer garden. Yes. Yes. Wet, it's . . . for real, this is the smell of my backyard as a little girl. The honeysuckle comes out, along with this cool smell of evening flowers, and it smells just like that time of night when the sun has set and everything is cooling off with the first night breeze. Gorgeous. Just lovely. It is a very sweet, very traditional and somewhat old-fashioned floral, so this blend is perhaps not for those who can't wear jasmine or lavender. Surprisingly, though my skin hates lavender, this remained tolerable – it did smell of soap, but the jasmine and honeysuckle kept it sweet enough to be pleasant in spite of that. I'll be keeping this one for the nostalgia alone. Though it doesn't really suit my personality, it's quite gentle and lovely in its own right.

I love amber scents. This is amber and musk in the bottle, at once very soft and very perfume-y. It goes on in a heady blast of warm, warm amber threaded with a dark hint of a very throaty, animal musk. It's a thick, muffling smell. The throw is alternately warm vanilla-tinged amber or an almost sandalwoody musk. Up close, I'm not at all sure that there isn't a touch of something citric in here, just a bare hint. There is an air of something cola-like in here, and I actually think that's the musk, which gets stronger and stronger as the amber settles down. This dries to a very powdery scent similar to the drydown of several others I have tried. In my head, I think of it as "the brown scent." It's a kind of musk/sandalwood/patchouli smell that is like a sludgy compote of base notes, and it occurs at the tail end of some BPAL scents I've tried that have musk, sandalwood, or patchouli in them. It's not a bad smell, but it is a smell without distinction, and one that is too thick and faintly cloying on my skin. I can, of course, make all this fit into the concept of "Haunted" by framing its wet phase as the initial pain and beauty of passing, followed by the sodden and reeking emotional sludge of grief. A faint but relentless animal note prowls around this scent, like a thing in pain. It's not beautiful. It's the memory of beauty, spoiled by the grave mold of regret. For some reason this didn't work out on me. I don't understand why, since both amber and musk like me. I can only conclude that there is something else in it, either patchouli or sandalwood, or that the difference between the lighter musks and dark musk is a difference my skin takes exception to. The amber loses its brightness and sort of backwashes into the rest of the scent. Not at all what I was hoping for.

This is very light in the bottle; vanilla and balsam (a kind of sweetish, powdery, woody odor), with the sassafras and cedar all brown off in the background. On, it's thick cedar and a robust, dark vanilla, with a medicinal jolt of sassafras that, in combination with the cedar, smells the way latex gloves taste. Faintly rubbery; reminds me of the dentist. It's pleasant enough despite that; I can definitely see it being a rugged, outdoorsy scent, alternating shade and light. About all it's missing is a hint of leather – this is a smell that should be riding pillion with Dead Man's Hand. It's civilized and gentlemanly but in an old-fashioned way, lightly unisex but on the masculine side, and . . . yes . . . that's sexy. Not in an overt way, but subtly. You know the type. Someone who just has that way about him. The sassafras isn't overwhelmingly root-beery; it's at the subtle center of this scent. The vanilla is off to one side of it, and the creaminess of the two of them is lovely. Off to the other side, though, is the cedar, and that's what gives this its rugged edge. Cedar is a very unpolished and raw scent, and it brings up the jagged edge in the sassafras. The balsam is woody and also creamy, so it blends with all three scents without ever really poking its head out. Earthy, slightly foody, but with an edge to it. This one reminds me of O's big brother who moved out of the city in favor of frontier life. What with the smell of dentists, this definitely reminds me of Doc Holliday. What? You didn't know he was a dentist? You're no daisy at all!

Oooo. In the bottle, this is woody and warm, a richer sandalwood and a less dirty patchouli than usual. Nice! On, it has real kick, a lot of pirate bite. The patchouli is wonderful and exotic, the sandalwood is brisk and clean, and the frankincense give is just the right touch of pettability, like curly hair on a girl who could kick your ass. It's aggressive but friendly; rambunctious but could turn on a pin. A sexy girl who'll dance with you all night long, but keep an eye out, because she is a mean drunk and has lots of crazy ex-boyfriends. This has a well-honed edge; the stench of unwashed hippie skank present in Vixen does not show up, nor does the sedimental, unpleasantly hung-over scent of sandalwood gone bad. Three ingredients that so often go very, very bad on me are so very, very right in this blend. I'm guessing that the difference between patchouli and sandalwood and their red cousins is what sells this for me. Indeed, this is spicy and fiery, like a redhead. A scent that might swash your buckle or might just rob you blind. Woody, spicy, and with an incense finish that brings to mind a close, dark space strewn with exotic treasures. Avast! I give this one two thumbs up! Or would, if I had a thumb, and not this damnable hook.

Whoa! Cherries! That's what almonds smell like in the bottle. This is milky, fruity, nutty, and just a touch spicy. I think I smell saffron. On, oh my God. This is the Lion's big sister by way of Morocco. It has that same birdseedy spice note that I have loved so much in other blends, only here it's powerful and strong. The cherries die back, leaving only a redolent, nutty odor. This is a private, close scent that clings near in to the skin and has little throw, a scent to be discovered, not announced. Lovely. I want to rave about it more, but I'm too busy sniffing!

This Shakespearian scent is sweet in the bottle, amber with sweet, fruity florals right on top. This goes on very amber with a fresh vanilla aura, and flowery sweetness hovering around the edges. It's quite nice at first, a very fresh fruity/flowery/incensey scent that I have high hopes for, but the flowers are doing something not-so-nice with the sandalwood and they smell alternately dirty and like sweet dill pickles. The pickle smell comes in little whiffs. It's a sad day for my skin chemistry. I don't have time to wash this off before I go out, so I must now smell like the pickle bar at my favorite burger joint. Thankfully that fades quickly and it becomes a nice sandalwood blend. Sandalwood is rather pedestrian on me, sadly, so this isn't going to be a keeper, but it's a very pleasant scent. The amber warms it up, and the flowers sweeten it, while the vanilla brings it a kind of velvety warmth that, with the sandalwood, is reminiscent of root beer and tobacco shops. Sandalwood often does that to me . . . that cola/tobaccanist's smell. If not for the florals, this would be masculine, but the sweet, purply golden edge to it really makes it a ripe, female scent. The smell of a smart chick who reads for fun, but has a lot of freaky sex toys.

It's an odd smell, that's for sure, even in the bottle! I can catch the acrid, tangy draft of tea leaves, the dusty slap of pepper, and the woozy throb of honey, plus a slick, clean scent that must be the linen. On, it's so masculine! Yet so polite! I like it, it's rich and creamy-dreamy with the milk and tea, the honey gives it a gluey sweetness that is being firmly sat on by the pepper and the astringent tea. I'm not getting much ginger, sadly. It's the linen note in this I don't quite like, I think. It's interesting, and I can see it really, really working on a refined sort of fellow, but on me it just seems . . . off. And then there's the fact that while I like the scent, the combination of honey with something else in the blend is really starting to smell like latex gloves. I'm a perv, so I think that's kind of sexy, but there's definitely a rubbery scent here. Honey does that on me sometimes, depends on what it's mixed with. It did it in O, and it did it in Spanked. It ages to nothing special on me – mostly dusty linen. Unfortunate, given that it had real promise at first. I'm positive that on the right person this one would be great – it's incredibly well-constructed, it's just not for me.

This is very cherry with a strong waft of floral in the bottle. At first it smells popsicle-y, but with the flowers, it's a strongly womanly pefume scent, wet and heady. On, the flowers come up through the cherry, and it's almost a shampoo-smell. My! That's powerful stuff! But it's beautiful. The throw is very traditional, a pale lily scent tinged pinkish red by the cherry, but close in it's quite zesty, and soapy in an agreeable kind of way. Quite clean and ladylike, elegant with just a trace of boldness. Ironically, the redness of the cherry with the white lily fruitens the scent up to what is very similar to the scent of sweet roses (as in Two, Five, and Seven). This is an intriguing perfume, quite simple, but changeable as the well-balanced florals and cherry take turns in the foreground. Ultra-female, and wetly sexy. The lilies make it just a little sad and the cherry makes it just a little girly, so it's very much a nostalgic scent. I'm coming to appreciate that all of the Mad Tea Party scents are true works of art – labors of love carefully crafted, and my hat is off to Beth and her pals.

This is cream, honey and sweet flowers in the bottle – the rose is low-key but distinct. A sweet, appealing scent that is somewhere between cuddly and lickable. It goes on in a blast of floral, the nutty cream and carnation mixing, the rose sitting to one side. The bergamot is just a faint touch, barely-there. This is clean, light, and sweet. I really don't like the smell of carnations, though, so I think that's what is queering the deal for me here. Thankfully this is a very light blend – even applying twice as much as usual, I got hardly any scent from it at all. It sort of balances out after a while into a spicy rose with a strong dash of cream. The drydown is wonderful, and my husband, Sargon, loves it. I see why this is a classic, but it's not for me. Too good-girl, not nasty enough.

I'm not expecting this one to go over very well on me because of all the florals, but here goes nothing. This is incensey in the bottle, and sweet from the florals – primarily jasmine. The bergamot is a light touch, very nice. On, it's the smell of the incense corner at the local new-age bookstore. Wow, that's some powerful stuff! I can smell the moss, a kind of pulpy dark green scent underlying the florals and keeping them from going too sweet. This is fascinating, complex, and quite pleasant. It becomes a sweet jasmine and incense scent over vetiver, intriguing, at once clean and earthy. A true signature scent, unlike any commercial perfume I've ever smelled, and certainly a work of genius. This is perfectly-balanced and definitely worth a try for anyone looking to experience what the Lab is all about.

Have I ever said that scarecrows give me the creeps? Not the jolly cartoony ones like you see at Halloween, those just look like hillbilly clowns. I mean the real kind – faceless stuffed clothing crucified in a field. They just give me the wig. This smells really, really weird. It's got an odd chemical smell in the bottle not unlike nail polish, and a bit of dry sweetness. There's sage in it for sure, possibly sweetgrass or vetiver. On, I'll second what everyone says about it. There is something terrifyingly familiar about this. And I'm frustrated by my inability to describe the scent itself in anything but semi-synesthetic terms. It's an odd, vinyl, wedge-shaped smell that sits right in the front of my nose. I'm not getting anything organic from it at all; it smells like a hot car interior or the inside of a perfumey school bus. Just . . . really, really strange, vaguely bitter, vaguely smoky. I can tell that there are green notes, and grassy ones, and a floral, and just a touch of something metallic, but they do not combine to make an earthy smell. This is very artificial and reminiscent of some unpleasant memory I cannot place, yet I can't stop sniffing it. Someone mentioned the smell of dandelion blossoms, and I'll second that. It does, sort of. That funky, dirty, close smell over what is supposed to be a flower but really smells more like some weird plastic. This has hardly any throw, and what throw it does have smells the same as the close-in scent. It ages to a grassy smell, like long stems of cut grass that have been sitting out in the sun for days, until they crumble at a touch. The sage comes out more, and whatever that floral is has gone just a little powdery. Smells a bit like a smudge stick, actually. This fades quickly to a dry, spicy powder. Hay dust.

This is soft and pleasant with just a hint of slick, cool hardness. It's got vanilla in it, and musk, and something faintly floral. Once I put it on, it goes very light, soft, and powdery, a barely-there scent like a body mist. It all but vanishes, the whiffs of it I'm getting are soft and sexy, yet somehow artificial, like a Victoria's Secret model decked out in those fake angel wings and a push-up bra. It's sexy and feminine as hell, but it's very light. This is stretching on clean sheets, thinking about the sex you had yesterday or will have tomorrow. This is a dark ballroom with lights glittering above and the sounds of a crooning nightclub diva twisting through it all. This is perfumed stationery fresh from her fingers. It fades fast, then enters into a second phase of clean, light powder. This isn't the nasty baby-powder smell, but a soft, fresh scent like warm linen. Delightful. And ironically, in this phase, it keeps getting stronger for about an hour, before it wears down normally. Very nice, very light; clean, slightly vanilla-spicy, slightly earthy. Recommended.