Naamah_Darling

Sweet and saucy in the bottle, citrus with a breath of floral and a hint of berry. On, it's sweet and fresh, a tart candy smell with enough floral to keep it just out of "foody." That said, on me the notes combine to make an abhorrent cacaphony of smells, at the forefront of which is the fruit-scented bathroom spray found in convenience stores and truck stops all along Route 66. It's not a bad smell, but it smells like I've been washing up at rest stops where they sell stuff like rattlesnake head paperweights and bottle openers shaped like naked women. Citrus and floral don't play well together with the raspberry; not on my skin.

This is an very odd scent. In the bottle it comes across as very densely smoky with a squeeze of orange layered over it. Not unlike Hellfire and Froot-Loops. It's very strong, very dark, and slightly bitter. It's also very velvety and deep, but the orange gives it an edge. On, it opens up a little and becomes really pretty. This is clearly incense smoke. It's thick, creamy, and golden in character, resinous and soft, and over it is the melting orange glaze. I'm not a big fan of citrus scents, but this one is really neat. It's a dirty, smoky citrus, and while that doesn't sound like a combination that'd work, it most definitely does.

Dusty, gilded amber with cool, crushed fruit. This is less damp and less sweet than you are thinking, I can tell you that right away. It's a rather dry, rather soft scent that is more powdery than sweet. The fruit here isn't sugary, isn't overpowering. It's delicate and understated. Even once I apply it, it doesn't become a moist scent. This is very dry. Fig and pomegranate and rich, powdered amber mingle for a scent that is rich and sonorous, but very dry. It's an incense blend, an earthy, smooth incense. Sandalwood comes out later in the mix, a smell like sweet wood shavings curling on a fire. The throw is sugared fig and amber. This is a quiet, contemplative scent, mournful and sensual. The cradling breast that gives ease and rest, comfort that is yet somehow cold. The scent of loss, of an empty space full of the scent of rare incense. I had not read Swinburne's poem until after I wrote the review, but this is a perfect scent for it. Ultimately, it is too powdery for me, but I think if you like powdery, delicate scents, this will be a complete hit.

In the bottle this is soft, rich ylang ylang . . . like a honeyed floral. There is something ambery/vanilla here, and a hint of some mellow incense. Probably the myrrh. On it is powdery, but not in a horrible, stinky way. This is a soft, sensual sort of smell, very inoffensive, balanced carefully between floral and fleshy. A lot of people are comparing this to O and to Snake Oil, and it has elements of both – the sweet, fleshy, honey scent of O, without the overwhelming dirtiness; the rich depth of Snake Oil without the cloying almond/cherry rush. But it's different enough, light enough, that even those who didn't like either scent should try this one. I don't do florals, but this is divine . . . ylang ylang doesn't smell like flowers, it smells creamy and fleshy, a rich body scent that clings close and has the most inviting throw. Actually, it reminds me very strongly of a deeper but less nuanced Khajuraho. There is a definite similarity. Khajuraho is green and wet, this is golden and dry, but they share a theme. The drydown is delicious honey-amber inflected with ylang ylang and super-snuggly myrrh. This reminds me of Bastet a little, too; it's the same sort of utterly desirable, sensual scent that I can't imagine anyone objecting to. Definitely one for the classics. It is very powdery, though; be advised that if you dislike powdery scents intensely, this might not be for you. I, however, really like this one despite my no love for the powder. It's going to go with O, Sed Non Satiata, and Blood Kiss for ultra-sexy fleshy scents. La Petit Mort is definitely the "good girl" among them.

Light, chill florals and a brisk berry overlay the smell of opium in the bottle. Sweet and slightly tart with a hint of rose. On, it's plum, opium, and faint florals. A very interesting perfume, and very hard to describe. It's quite traditionally perfumey, and very female. The overall impression it gives is that of reserved sophistication, with a hint of corruption beneath. As it dries, it becomes deeper, lower, as the berries die back and the opium relaxes. It's not as strong as I thought at first; once the first rush of scent dies back, the smell all but vanishes. What is left is an intriguing mix of high, jagged notes, peppery almost. The florals are apparent, are even the key notes, but this is not a typical floral at all. This is much more perfume-y than powdery or sweet. A scent so unusual it's bound to attract attention, very finely balanced on the edge of appealing and unpleasant.

Wow! The smell of pine greenery and cedar wood mingles with green, leafy notes and a hint of tart berries for a smell that is less like a perfume or cologne than it is like a room scent. This is a startlingly true "outdoorsy" smell. Just a whiff of it will make you think there is a door or window open somewhere. It stays true and balanced on. The wood notes come up in the mix a little. The throw smells like the great outdoors with just a hint of cranberry. Neat. Neat, neat, neat. And, yes, there's a hint of "tomato leaf." That fuzzy, zippy smell that comes off of unwashed fresh tomato plants. It's not a food smell at all – it's a green gardening growing smell. Gah! Where does Beth get these? Does someone honestly make eau de tomato stems? Remarkable. I'm not a fan of pitchy, woodsy scents, of greenery or woody smells, but this is quite true, and so it's rather more gentle than these things tend to be. There's no cutting edge here, it's a much smoother, softer scent than you might expect. An excellent cologne, or, if you just want to freshen up, an excellent room scent. I like this very much; though I don't know how often I would realistically wear it on my body, I can see using it to scent my clothes or my room. This reminds me just a little bit of The Carpathian Mountains, minus the sweets and flowers, and just a little bit of The Castle, minus the incense and stone. Definitely one to try for fans of woodsy blends, or someone looking for a more cologne-type scent.

Wow. This is a crystalline, incensey floral, perfectly balanced between fumes and flowers. Rose comes ahead of the lily, and the resins are too well blended for me to tell them apart. Ah! No, there's the frankincense. Once it goes on the lily of the valley is a little stronger, vying for first place with the rose. The thing is, this scent is really held down by the incense, so it's not what I'd call an overpowering incense blend at all. The throw is a clean, pure floral with a hint of clean resins. This isn't a soapy scent but it is very pure, very pleasant. Up close it has an almost fuzzy quality, the product of the sweet rose and the myrrh blending, I think. The frankincense and lily go together to create a clean clarity. And the labdanum is sitting right in between, gluing it together with its gentle golden radiance. A very well-constructed blend, one that would agree with a wide variety of people, I think. The presence of the lily of the valley and the rose make this traditional enough that it would appeal to a wide variety of folks who don't normally wear incense blends, but it's incensey enough to offset some of the florals' tendency to go rank, making it a good choice for those who tend to avoid florals for that reason. Folks like me, say. As it ages, it does get some of that sharp, soapy stink that lily of the valley tends to turn to on me, but it's less unpleasant than usual, and I think if I hadn't put quite so much on, it wouldn't be so pronounced. The rose is a powdery undernote, not prominent on drydown at all. Present if you know to look for it, but otherwise more of a hint than a note. The resins are more or less one clean, hard resin-y smell now; it's lost some distinction. I'm going to peg this as a nice, neutral, feminine scent that is doomed by my chemistry, but I insist that it is still a beautiful scent, one nice enough that I'd like to try to use it in a scent locket or an oil burner. Most of the time I don't try if I can't wear it, but this is pretty enough to be worth the effort.

This is a beautiful, sweet floral with overtones of musk and aquatics. The top note is definitely muguet – lily of the valley – with gardenia coming in a close second. There is also a strong drift of lotus, that sweet and sugary floral familiar to me from blends like Bastet. Sweet, candylike florals that grow soapy the longer I sniff 'em. Still, very pretty. There is musk here, boosting the smooth sweetness, tying in with the faint aquatics for a scent that is a beautiful evocation of water lilies viewed in a mirror: lovely but distant. Again, a concept scent that evokes its subject superbly. When I put it on, alas, it turns to the smell of soap bubbles. No subtlety at all on my skin. Damn florals; they all hate me. It's still a beautiful scent and one I would unhesitatingly recommend to anyone with a love of floral scents. This is not too cloying, it has some depth, overall quite lovely.

This is a light floral heavy on the lily, with a faint herbal tone. It's very light. On, it has a faint sandalwood base and a camphoraceous note hovering in the middle somewhere, something sweet and medicinal. It's not a powerful scent, is in fact barely there. Overall, it has a reserved, earthy quality, a kind of shadowy neutrality. The scent of it up close is rather unpleasant, having a strong vegetal odor that smells of crushed grass stems and old roots. It smells a little dirty, a little ripe. The herbs are definitely embalming herbs, rather than foody ones. This has a distinctly . . . off quality that lends it an air of menace. It just smells out of whack, like something is wrong.

This is not quite like anything else I've smelled. It's an equal-parts mix of melon, juniper, and smoke, meaning it's fresh and juicy, but also husky and rich. There's a bit of sweet pepper in there, too. On, the juniper and melon take a front seat, with the sweet tobacco smoke swirling along in the background. This is an unlikely scent, not traditionally cologne-y at all, and yet most definitely masculine. It smells somehow intimate, biological, as though this were a natural body scent. It only gets more like that as it ages. I like this even better once the topnotes have faded, leaving nothing but the scents of tobacco, honey, and pepper. Delicious! It has a respectable throw, too, especially outdoors, where the sun really seems to do a number on it.

This is overwhelmingly floral. I am certain I detect roses, and I smell lilies, too. Otherwise, this is hard to pin down. I'm not good with floral notes. I also smell something creamy and soft, almost powdery. Vanilla? It calms down a little from its initial floral blast, and lo and behold, the spices emerge. At this phase it is at its most beautiful, yet it is still very traditionally perfume-y. The drydown is a dry floral spice that is at once appealing and elegant. Definitely traces of amber and vanilla.

I could swear I've tried this before, but nope, it's new to me. So here goes! Wow, this is patchouli-y! A smoky patchouli so thick it's almost like tar in character, an odor both resinous and smoky, verging on the foul. A sharp note of vetiver keens through this like a knife drawn lightly over skin . . . sharp but not cutting. This smells like the ashes of a campfire, to be honest. Even on, it's a savage, smoky odor that has very little to do with perfume, and everything to do with making anyone in the room with you edge further and further away. It's heavy, so dark as to approach ultraviolet, and is thoroughly, thoroughly dirty. If I had to pick a BPAL scent that strikes me as utterly un-perfume-like, this would be it. It does not smell like something a person would volunteer to smell like. ETA: I do want to make it clear that I love this scent, and will be keeping it. It's just not "perfumey" at all.

This is herb and apple, zippily clean, with a smooth base of smoky amber underneath it all. A surprisingly deep and throaty blend. It's damp and earthy on, but still has that incense and sugar smell of amber. The apple gives this a vaguely aquatic character that is quite agreeable. The amber gives it depth, stability, and longevity; the drydown is just scrumptious.

Lily of the valley, mint, and roses. That's what I get. It's pink and green, a sweet and fresh scent, ever so slightly aquatic. Very pretty, but most supremely not my thing. I weep.

Yeah, uh-huh. You can stop being so bloody cheerful now! I mean it! Settle down! Gah. In the bottle, this is a bouncy scent that can't seem to decide if it wants to be foody or musky. Mostly foody. The chocolate makes this a little stinky, even though it doesn't smell much like chocolate, what with all the other ingredients. It smells like a vanilla cream sauce over a spice-dusted chocolate torte, with a dash of what I think is a golden sort of musk. Very tasty-smelling. On, the musk is not as loud as I'd thought it would be. It really sits behind the food smell. This is bouncy, silly, a fun scent that reminds me of the Monster Bait series. The throw is vanilla caramel with a little cardamom and a little chocolate. Very entertaining, and yummy. Overall this is a foody, golden scent that begs to be rolled around with. It's sexy the way most foody scents are sexy: they aren't overt "do me" scents, but they do beg you to eat the wearer. The cardamom is really the snap here; this has a feisty spice to it that I really like. There's enough of it that what should be a creamy, sweet scent is actually pretty zippy.

This is, indeed, very musky. In the bottle it's all musk, musk, musk, with just a hint of resin and no trace of the orange peel. It goes on in a blast of ferocious musk, and the orange peel really comes out to give it teeth. The musk/citrus/ambergris combination makes it a quite traditionally perfume-y scent, so traditional I'm not certain if it's something I would like to wear. There's a hint of greenery in there somewhere, which keeps it smelling high-pitched as it develops. The longer this is on, the more traditional it becomes. It's very classic, but as it has no floral notes it might be a good choice for someone wanting to evoke that timeless feel without also invoking the Evil Flower Demons. For such a high-pitched perfume, the throw is modest and the scent itself stays very close in. This is a very good thing – this sort of scent is one that could easily be abused or overdone. The fact that it isn't all that aggressive is a good thing. It leaves this smell where it should be, near the skin, where it can be discovered. Not a perfume for heavy scenting, but one to wear in little droplets here and there. So far in other reviews it's drawing a lot of comparisons to Smut, which I can sort of see – they share a very musky base. But the musk here is less sexual, and there's no booze note to send this scent straight to bed. Instead, the green and citrus topnotes make this a sharp, intense scent that doesn't have the laid-back, self-pleasuring quality of Smut. There really is no comparing them; apples and oranges. Both are based in musk, but that's about it. There's something very "wicked stepmother" about this, but I can't put my finger on what it is. And no, before you ask, I don't have an ape for a stepmother.

Oh, my! A particularly black and beady-eyed musk lurks under a fine haze of incense smoke and funereal resins. Bisabol myrrh – opoponax, if you are taking notes – figures prominently in this blend, as does benzoin. Tsori and balsam appear to be the same thing, more or less, a resinous, pitchy odor that is at once soft and sharp, piney and woody. They form the forward edge of this scent, the resin is the first thing you smell. On, it's musk, a pure, dark, tail-swishing musk that smells so strongly of the animal that fur might as well be growing on my wrists. Under it, as though caught in the coarse and kinky pelt is the aroma of soft incenses, now blended to one even whole. No resin dominates, the blend is smooth and even. It dries just like this, musk and resin, becoming soft and settling in to a comfortable, lovely scent that is unmistakeably the same perfume but is somehow much prettier. In another note, "atramentous" is not a word I knew, and now I'm glad I know it. Very cool.

In the bottle this is an odd combination of light milk and sweet white grape juice, a bright, pale scent that promises beauty. Also present, the sweetness of pomegranate. On, the throw is fruit with a stiff dose of cream. This scent cruises right on the edge of being sour, its sweetness sharpened by the grape and deepened by the buttery cream. I don't think I like this quite as well as the earlier version, but that is a very near thing. This scent is beautiful, unusual, distinctive, a friendly, embracing scent that invites cuddling, relaxation, and heart's-ease. It has a lot of throw, so be warned. And it takes a minute to warm up. At first, you may think you haven't applied enough. It's very pretty once the slightly sour grape smell dies back a little and the sticky fruits come out to play with the cream. Recommended if you can get a sample and you like creamy scents.

Whew! This smells like the desert on acid: sage and citrus struck with a bolt of clear ozone lightning. This is clean and sharp and wicked, a high-velocity, high-pitched scent that just might mow you down if you aren't careful. Hunger? Yes. Very hungry. It smells nothing like food, and everything like miles and miles of nothing with no food in sight. Harsh. It smells good, but calling this a "nice" smell would be like calling a sword a knife, and this is one keen blade of a scent. The verbena (think herbal lemons) and citrus and sage are juicy and tight together, and the ozone is a smack of dry, electric wind. I'm not getting much depth out of it on first application . . . the sandalwood and amber and oakmoss will probably need time to develop. Sadly, I'm not going to get that. Something in this, or perhaps a combination, is making my wrist itch like anything, so off it comes. Pity, because this was a real zinger of a scent. Definitely recommended for anyone who likes clean ozone scents, or who is interested in playing with citrus scents that aren't overtly lemony or orangey.

This is sweet and light: apples, wine, aloe, sage. . . . The overall impression it gives is of sweetness, of soft florals filled out with ripe fruits. It's not a heavy, syrupy scent, though. There is too much of the sage and ivy in it for it to be heavy. Doesn't change much on. The apple is slightly fuller than the berry, again keeping this crisp. There is a smokiness to it that only develops once applied, a breath of something deep and resonant and dark against the dancing light of the bright flowers and fruits. Chrysanthemum is the top floral here, quite assertively. This is a very pink and gold scent, the scent of a rich revel, spiced fruit and perfume floating on the breeze.

Little known fact: every time I try to review Schwarzer Mond, my word processing program has crashed, or the electricity has cut out. This is the fourth attempt. I want to state for the record that I like this scent, but not enough to keep having to retest it, so this is rather annoying to me. Nevertheless, here goes attempt number four. Patchouli, amber, and myrrh are strongest here. The terebinth is right up there, too, a clean kind of pitchy, pine-needle note. The musk is rich and smooth. Overall, this is dark, earthy, fleshy. And it gets better if you allow the oil to age. On, the terebinth comes out, and the bay rum (that's what Pimenta racemosa is). Normally bay rum smells horrible on me, but here it's tied with enough earthy stuff to keep it from going rank and sour. The zdravetz is nothing more than geranium, its oil described as woody with a floral and herbal undertone. It is definitely present as well, and complements the patchouli and myrrh quite nicely. As usual, amber, myrrh, and opoponax, all resins, fill in the middle of this scent quite nicely. This is a scent with a lot of character provided by the odd ingredients: terebinth, bay rum, geranium. But its core is the patchouli and the musk. That's what the throw smells of, and that's what is on top when you get close to it. Schwarzer Mond is beautiful, dark, a thick, heavy scent almost drugged. Those who don't do well on very dark, very earthy scents would be advised to steer clear, but if patchouli and musk sound good to you, this is definitely worth seeking out. It has a reputation for being one of the better Lunacy blends, and while I don't know if I'd go that far, I will say that it's a very well-formulated scent. The drydown is an exceptionally rich and muscular amber, its smoothness dirty with spices. At this stage, it is very, very nice, and exceptionally sexy.

Once again, I do my research, and hope I'm not lying to you when I tell you what's what. Motia is more usually called palmarosa, and is a species of lemongrass. Jonquil is a species of narcissus, whose smell may be familiar to you already, as daffodils are a narcissus as well. Massoia is derived from the bark of an Indoneisan laurel, and is described as having a creamy or buttery coconut smell with undertones of fruit. Calamus, also called sweet flag, is a kind of fleshy rush whose leaves and rootstock yield a sweet-smelling, possibly lemon-scented oil. This, when I smell it, does not smell dark to me at all. It's subtle and quiet, but not dark. And it's a very, very professional blend. The notes are quite difficult to distinguish. I definitely smell the pear and cucumber. The florals are cool and pale and fleshy. I also detect a creamy, thick note with a hint of nuttiness, which must be the massoia; I like that very much. This is cool and white, delicate. It goes on with the jonquil and orchid in the front, very light and pure. It has a distinctly herbal undertone, though not particularly lemony, which is kept from being too dry by the cucumber and the pear. The musk, likewise, is very light and delicate, almost grey. It's the musk I associate with Dorian; barely there at all. If this is a moonless night, it is a moonless night made brilliant by a hundred thousand stars. It has a secretive, luminous quality, like foxfire, it is subtle and witchy. I don't like fleshy white florals, they smell of pickles all too often, but this manages not to go sour (though it is a very near thing). It has a subtlety that most florals lack on me, and I encourage anyone looking for a "different" sort of floral to investigate the mysteries of Black Moon. Despite everyone's crooning over sibling Schwarzer Mond's lusty savagery, it is Black Moon that wins on me. For what it is, it is flawless.

Two word review: Food porn. Ahem. This is sexy cream and cocoa, smooth whiskey sauce on bread pudding, with a whiff of sweet, sticky fruit. I cannot overemphasize how much I want to drink this right out of the bottle. Since I know that's a bad, bad idea, I'll just have to roll in it, instead. The bourbon is stronger once it goes on, and the blackberry is right out front, tart and tangy. Oh, god, the throw of this one is like the smell of the world's best pastry chef concocting the ultimate dessert right in the other room. If temptation had a smell, this would be it. It is very sweet, but the whiskey sauce and blackberry keep this from being too sweet. It's not as sweet as Underbed, not as foody. I don't like it quite as well, but that's splitting a very fine hair.

Ohhh, yum! This is chocolate grated over coconut-topped cake, yummy and warm! It smells just delicious, and is making me seriously hungry! On, it gets more cake-y. It smells like macaroons, actually. God, it's wonderful! The cassia is a spicy, dry note not unlike the smell of dry cinnamon sticks, yet without that candylike sweetness. It wears down to a much more spicy finish, some of the cake smell wears away and it becomes a yummy sort of bakery smell with chocolate, cookies, cakes, and pastries all rolled up in one. Utterly delectable. I am now ravenous. Thanks. This is extremely foody, extremely sweet, and extremely delicious. It's a good thing it was a limited edition and my supply of it is finite, because I have a hunch just wearing this could make me fat!

This is a review of the old LE blend, not the reformulation GC scent, so I hope it's in the right place. This smells like ginger cookies! Oh so yummy! If I work at it for a bit while it's in the bottle I can smell the incense resins, but this is still an overwhelmingly warm and spicy cooking scent. Of course, all the other notes come out when it goes on – the ginger rises above the rest, its heady, knifelike throw surrounded by a haze of spice and powdery golden incense. It's delicious, sublime, a dark and sexy scent with a blazingly bright light at its very center. As it ages, it hollows out a bit, opens up, and the herbal note comes out – still a warm, spiced smell, but this makes it seem older, arcane. The incense is still very soft, just a drone off in the background. I love this. It is very dark and sexy, yet also spicy and energizing. But don't mistake it for playful or kittenish – it packs a wallop! Definitely a crying shame this hasn't been added to the unholy pantheon of GC scents, because this deserved a wider release. Magic. Black magic.