Naamah_Darling

Unrestrained revelry, unchained licentiousness! Violet deepened with vetiver. Umm. Smells like flowery compost. On, it still smells like flowery compost. The vetiver is almost enough to rein in the violet, but not quite. It dries to a powdery compost. See, this is why I rarely review violet scents. I like the smell, and in fact my underwear drawer is violet-scented, but I cannot wear the smells. They are vile on my skin. Even in scent lockets, it's a no-go. Alas.

Oooh, uhh . . . excuse me while I wave my HOT HOT SEX in your face! Whoa! This is amber, vanilla, heliotrope, strawberry, and a spanking. In the bottle, I wanna hump it. On, I want to hump it even more, and then hump it again just to make sure it stays humped. This is filthy vanilla going down on the amber at 95 mph. in a bitchin' red Camaro. This is strawberry taking off her panties and putting them in her boyfriend's front pocket as she sits back down to a $1,000-a-plate charity dinner. This is "Neville? Will you come here a minute?" and then a smash on the back of the head with a pottery vase. This is so sexy you can't think straight, neither of you can think straight, it's just reckless and dangerous and up against the wall with one thigh between yours pushing irresistably up and up and up until you feel like you can't get away and all you can do is claw and bite rabidly hoping that they'll bite back because my God it's not just a matter of what feels good and what doesn't it's a painful physical animal need. Pant, pant, pant. This is unsubtle, uncontrollable at first, and then it settles back on its haunches and smirks like it's snowballed you. This winds up a red, red musk rubbed with vanilla and just a little cherry/strawberry sweetness for that tawdry touch. For all that, it's still an earthy scent, brought low by the amber and the fact that the vanilla is a particularly warm, golden vanilla. Because this contains notes known to strike some as artificial, and because not everyone can do foody/sweet scents, I'll warn that this isn't for everyone. That said, on me it is the smell of pure sex. The kind of smell that would make me come on to someone not my type, do something utterly uncharacteristic and dangerous, get a little pushy and mean. When I say it's girly, feminine, womanly, understand that I mean it brings out every single lizard-brained, throat-grabbing, hair-pulling, caveman instinct I have, and then some. And yet when I wear it, it does not make me feel submissive in the slightest – not like Bordello, which makes me feel like a toy. This is overelaborate and festooned with rhinestones, and maybe even cheap, but it will still kill you deader than hell. One part charm, one part beauty, one part bitch, shaken, not stirred, and taken the morning after. Unforgettable.

Oh. Well, that's interesting. It smells like dried fruit and herbs, I get a distinct waft of fig and date out of it, and the herbs make it almost medicinal. It is indeed dark and sticky-gritty, a very dirty, smelly scent. At first whiff it comes off as perfumey, but then the harsh darkness of it comes across. I really can't describe it. It would probably smell like Dr. Pepper if it weren't for the herbs, which are what make this so intriguing. I like the smell, it's interesting, but I'm not sure I will like it as a perfume. On, it's powerfully . . . oh . . . err . . . well . . . I really, really want to say "yuck," but I know by now not to let the first five minutes speak for the perfume. And that's what you have to do – wait for it. This one takes a minute to do its thing. Fleshy, dark fruit notes are overlaid by an herbal blast that initially chokes out any sweetness this may have had. It ages smoothly, though, the herbs fading back so that the fruits can come out. The fig and date aren't particularly juicy-smelling fruits, so the fruit element of this is gummy and dark. The throw is ripe and low, but quite arresting; sexy without any sweetness. It definitely hase anise or fennel in it – I am getting a smell like licorice candy in the throw. It just becomes more beautiful as it wears; after about 15 minutes a new fruity layer comes out, the currant, I think, and it's just a little sweeter and a little more moist than the others. The longer I wear it, the more like a spiced fruit it becomes. Despite its initially stinkiness, it is divine. Well, let's call it "diabolical" instead. The longer I wear it the sexier it becomes. Like watching a totally mean, bad-ass guy get progressively more drunk and easy, losing his clothes, making out with his friends. . . . I like it. This is very dark and very, very interesting. Initially very masculine, it becomes more neutral as it wears. I can see this being devastating on men and women both. As a concept scent, it's a complete success, evoking debauchery and overripe self-indulgence without any sweetness; in fact, there's a trace of the malefic here. I mean it when I say that you have to give this one a chance to do its thing and win you over. I usually know right off if I hate a scent or not, but this one completely turned around on me. Wonderful!

Hmmm! There's that fusty, smoky swirl of tobacco drifting over a strong dash of spiced rum, with a fizzy shot of champagne off to the side. I like this in the bottle. Let's see what it does on me. Oh, hell yes. Yes, yes, yes. Smoky, slightly foody, and sexy as hell. This has a salty, tangy edge that I think is the chardonnay. That note is at once fruity and light, so this scent, while slightly sweet, isn't overwhelmingly sugary. Also, the strong rasp of rum and tobacco help tame the sugar, and there's a persistently delicious scent from the tonka, which smells a little like a very warm and debauched vanilla who's been having lots of sex with amber. The tobacco and rum notes blend with the way tonka always smells a little like both amber and vanilla. This is the sort of smell that, if you found it on someone's skin, you'd bite them. You wouldn't be able to help it. This is so carnal a scent that it's practically a taste, anyway. Perversion, indeed, because this begs to be taken advantage of in the nastiest imaginable ways.

A sinful, licentious scent: self-indulgent and luxurious. Mingled heady civet and red Egyptian musk, thickened with opium. This is raw, muscular musk glazed with the faintest opium high. Once it's out of the bottle and on the skin, it acquires a sharp overtone that is juicy and dirty. This is a very animal musk. No doubt that's the influence of the civet. It's a profoundly . . . biological scent. Not off-putting, but definitely animal. This part of the scent stays close in. Red musk is the most sexual of the musks to me. It's deep and rich, warm and fuzzy, sexy. It lacks the clean refinement of the pale and white musks, but what it lacks in charm it makes up for in warmth. It has almost the depth of black musk, but without the singed, tarry scent that often comes with black and dark musks. It's unique, warm and enfolding. The opium is an incense note that sits behind the musk. Opium is usually very high-pitched, but the smoothness of the musk and the darkness of the civet are pulling the high note down a bit, and this is a better perfume because of it. Here, it's not the dominant note, but a spicy, tingling smoke scent that lingers in the background. Civet is . . . different. It's hard to describe what it smells like, but it's immediately noticeable and very distinct from the red musk, even though it is itself a musk-type smell. It's sweet and rich, but also very animal. It's as though the musk has to go through a refining process; red musk would be in the middle. White musk would be on the far end, as refined as it gets, black would be on the near end, and civet would be the raw ingredient they started from. Though it is a completely pleasant scent it seems like it's being parsed in the same part of my nose/mouth/brain as other strongly animal scents, like cat butt-musk, human body odor, and, yes, the smell of . . . sex. A body smell. Intimate. Almost embarrassingly so. I can see the parallels people are drawing to cat pee, and all perfumers admit that raw civet is, to put it politely, "fecal" in character. Nevertheless, it's not a bad smell. The throw is moderate, but smells less intense than the close-in odor; the waft is a gently fruity musk with a smoldering screen of opium mixed in and just the barest hint of something arresting. Pleasant, dark, but not overwhelming. Only up close does it start to smell catty and feral. A ripe, redolent scent with just a hint of danger, a scent that is as much a warning as an invitation. Very nice. Well, not "nice," but you know what I mean. The slightly acrid bite of civet lingers past the opium and the full flush of the musk. The throw dies back, and it's a deep animal smell, close to the skin, at its full drydown. This one would definitely work on a man, so I'm classing it as unisex. I like this. I like it a lot. But it is very bold and extraordinarily animal. Debauched? You bet. This is the smell of a guy who has done nothing but drink, f**k, and smoke hash for three days, but who still manages to smell good. It's utterly debased and feral.

Dragon's blood and rose front this violently pinkish-orange oil in the bottle. It’s very light and sweet. On, the rose and juniper mingle in a fascinating dance. It's soapy more than perfumey, and the flowery orris isn't really helping that impression. In fact, as it dries, it loses what beauty and subtlety it had and goes straight to hand soap. This is just terrifically disappointing, as the smell had real potential in the bottle, but it's evidently NOT a match for my chemistry. I want to love it, but I can't tell what it smells like past the soapy smell!

Floral, sweet, and cheerful, this is a happy scent ripe with green notes and citrus. The citric notes really overpower the florals once it goes on. It's a very bright, citrusy scent, reminds me a bit of an even more insanely cheerful Sol Invictus. Where Sol Invictus had gravity, this has a kind of exuberance that is hard to describe. If a citrus floral blend sounds appealing to you, this one is probably right up your alley; it's about as perfect a melding of clean and sweet as I can imagine, yet it's not foody at all, nor is it soapy.

An unusual, hard-to-describe scent that is at once floral and sharp, sweet and tart, incensey and herbal. The first thing I smell are flowers and herbs, but they're being bolstered by a zesty orange. Heliotrope and amber are the sweet hidden notes in this. Dragon's blood is its usual insistently fruity and rich self – it only smells like incense once it hits body heat. Upon application, it shifts again. Orange and chamomile tea, with a rippling background of dragon's blood and floral herbs. This is light and, to me, not a summery scent but more of a springtime scent. It's cheerful and bright, a sunny sort of smell with a very pleasant throw. The heliotrope is very interesting. It's a sweet floral, very rounded and subtle, and it keeps poking its nose out here and there, along with the amber, sort of playing hide and seek among the other more insistent notes. The orange is what sets this apart, makes it at once quite unique and something that I know I would not personally wear. This is a good scent for those who like clean, citrusy florals but are hunting for something that doesn't smell of soap. This is only mildly soapy.

Thick musk is clotted with the sweet scent of dragon's blood and a hint of dry, spiced woods. The scent of dry grass is strong. This is sweetish, but very deep. Once it's on, it's very grassy and dry, with a lot of spice and sweet resins. The musk settles back a bit, the woods come out. I'm terrible with wood notes; they seem very hard for me to get a fix on, but I think perhaps sandalwood. The grass smells like vetiver. It's an interesting smell because though it is spicy and sweet, it doesn't smell in the least like food. It smells like an import shop, an occult curio shop; like old, cracked wood thick with the patina of many years. It's less foresty to me, and more drily herbal, again, like an occult shop that sells herbs. This is very similar to Bloodlust, and is like a drier, less foody version of Red Phoenix. It's definitely a beautiful blend, and worth seeking out if grass, woody incense, and dragon's blood sound like something you'd enjoy.

Musk, red musk, and patchouli are powerful in the forefront of this scent. It's a thick, dark red-orange, almost blood-colored. On, again, musk and patchouli and hot metal. The throw is musky and thick. Up close this smells scorched. This is heat, but a dry heat. Way underneath is a hint of something sweet; some floral or spice. It's intriguing, powerful, dangerous. Aha! That's it. It smells like dragon's blood, but not the perfume version. This smells exactly like burning dragon's blood resin in a brass brazier. It stays an equal mix of patchouli, musk, and spicy florals all the way through, and is an absolutely amazing scent. Hot and powerful, inexorable, and beautiful.

Orange as mercurochrome, Bloodlust reeks of patchouli and musk in the bottle, with a healthy dose of dragon's blood. On, it's skin-smooth, and just a little dirty. Patchouli and vetiver give it a roll in the grass, and it wasn't a clean smell to begin with. It is close, though, and not overtly aggressive with the throw. As it smooths out, it's a nice patchouli scent with some grass from the vetiver and a whiff of cinnamon. I want to say that I smell leather in here, but I think that's just my nose smelling the vetiver and screaming Iago! Iago!, trying to fill it in. This is a very dark, finely-honed scent, well-named and very sexy. Equally suitable for men or women; the cinnamon note here is not overwhelming or candylike, it's more of a dirty spice smell.

What a smell! Exotic and delicious, the fruity resins of dragon's blood mingle with sweet cherry and the soft fuzziness of myrrh. The clove comes out once it warms up, giving this a slightly spicy, dirty feel. This isn't the smell of real blood, but the smell of metaphorical blood; you know, when you say that your blood's up. It's a fleshy, passionate, sensual scent with enough sophistication to make it unique and enough familiarity to make it instantly noticeable. A very good basic scent.

Whoa! This is amazing, not at all what I expected. This amber is very dark indeed, a deep incense base with a hint of dragon's blood and some spicy, spicy florals on top of that. Melati is jasmine, near as I can tell. The overall impression is one of vivid energy. This has an almost menthol note to it, way back in the mix, like cherry Robitussin. Almost metallic. I'm guessing that's the dragon's blood mixed with the currant and the mandarin, but I could be totally off. This isn't a pretty scent, but it's very visceral and vivid. The jasmine is really the only "kind" note here; the melati smooths everything out just enough to make it bearable. Once it settles and that menthol note backs down a bit, this is a really interesting, deep scent that is at once sweet and resinous. The currant is sticky and rich way underneath everything else, and I'm coming to realize that I tend to love blends that contain it. It lends some wonderful depth.

Dragons are just so cool. This is sweet and resinous, a heady mix of pomegranate, cassia, sweet mimosa, and a thick red musk, all dashed with the slightly berrylike sweetness of dragon's blood. And yes, smoke. There's just a hint of burning. On, this is spicy and wild, a very bold cinnamony and sweet scent that is arresting and unexpected. This smells like something exotic, some elaborate carved-wood dragon that comes to life with the turn of a magic key. It's powerful, gender neutral, majestic. And as it wears, it loses a lot of its sweetness, keeping only a bloody, smoky edge. There's a hint of the metallic hanging about this. The patchouli makes it earthy, but the patchouli element isn't overwhelming. I really love this blend. A lot. It's got both range and depth, is interesting enough to attract without being repellently powerful, and it changes quite a bit, keeping things interesting.

Oh! Wow! This is so feminine-sexy it hurts. Sweet dragon's blood, like the juice of some exotic fruit, mixed with vanilla and a touch of sugar. The vanilla makes this slightly more fragrant than sweet in the bottle, but it becomes very sugary and fruity once it's on. Dragon's blood has always had a slightly fruity scent to me, like fresh, juicy something-or-other; sweet, but the way that real fruit is never as sweet as the candied version. But this is fruit in preserves, well-sugared. No. No, this is candied fruit. Super-concentrated sugar-laden candied fruit, with a hint of vanilla cream. Dragons? Milk? This is more like something a dragon would drink and less like something a dragon would, err, lactate. "A truly fae nectar," indeed. Meant for drinkin' says I. Or rolling in. This is delightful, and no fan of vanilla or dragon's blood should miss it. Except for Bat Cheva, who reeeally smelled like she had a Krispy Kreme hidden in her rack while she was wearing it.

This is raw dragon's blood in the bottle, sweet and fruity. Under it I can smell the promise of the leather, which always goes on like a lewd slap on the ass. Here goes. . . . Oh, wow, that is really, really different. The dragon's blood is so sweet, and the leather is so . . . smoky. I'm used to leather and smoke scents paired with earthy scents or musk scents, but the sweet incense of dragon's blood makes for a fascinating base. The throw is sweet, floral incense, heady and spirited. Up close, it has a fruity sweetness, with just a hint of dark leather and smoke. A kind of earthy, masculine pungency. In the space between the leather, smoke, and dragon's blood, a phantom citrus smell hovers, sharp and clean. This is beautiful, fascinating, and ever-changing, from pink to red to gold and back to pink again. As it ages, it develops an almost salty tang, a sweaty, rugged flush that's really quite ravishing. I am completely undecided on whether this is a masculine scent or not. I don't think so, since the dragon's blood is so very sweet, but the leather and smoke are so very boyish. It's like a very clean man's scent or a very dirty girl's scent, if you know what I mean. It hovers in that gender limbo, and unlike other neutral scents, this one's not neutered. It's profoundly sexual, not sexless, and yet I can't assign it firmly to one category or the other without feeling like I'm making a mistake. And it just keeps getting more butch as it ages. YUM. I'm fairly sure that dragons smell more like bullsnake poop than like this, but this is a very, very nice scent.

Ooo. Light on dragon's blood, heavy on sandalwood and orris. On this is way more floral than I'd have expected. The orris is its usual assertive, noisy self, going straight to powder without passing Go or collecting so much as a sniff of any other note. It has respectable throw, too. Drat. I put it on both wrists. I was hoping the orris would be light. Alas, it's dominant. Not for me.

This has the feral sweetness of a really thick musk over Snake Oil, but the woody, greenish notes that accompany it make this such an odd scent that I can't really characterize it. Wood and green bamboo notes are often paired with very clean or resinous scents, and while the wood blends well with the Snake Oil, the bamboo's juicy sweet scent is so clean and unusual in the blend that it's startling. It gives the whole a juicy, green sweetness. The musk is a rich, fluffy, dark musk. This is a friendly scent, and for some reason it smells quite foody to me, like powdered hot chocolate with vanilla, or dry chai teabags. It's very pleasant and very unusual. It's resemblance to Snake Oil is pronounced, but it's quite a bit more mellow; it lacks that potent cherry/almond syrup smell.

Want to know if this one is for you? Ask yourself if you think Snake Oil would be improved by a little mint. No. Make that a lot of mint. Something about this, the mint and spice, perhaps, makes this smell . . . Christmasy. Or, on the other hand, like having your teeth cleaned with that gross mint paste crap. Take your pick – whichever you find less disturbing. The smells go together better than you might think. The bergamot is present, a little, but it doesn't shout. Not that you could hear it under the mint if it did. The green tea tries to calm things down, but the mint is just on a psycho rampage. And, of course, under it all there's that Snake Oil cushion of rich spice and wood. I'm not fond of mint, but I don't hate this, so I will very cautiously recommend it for people who like mint; maybe try layering Snake Oil with another really minty blend, see if it works for you.

Wow! This is pretty much pure incense, and it's lovely. There's a sweet breath of flowers in there, and the frankincense has that tart overtone that's almost citric or lime-like in nature. I like this right away; it doesn't smell like Snake Oil at all. The sugar sort of binds it, this is a sweet incense, champaca and hyssop are both sweet scents as well, and they blend beautifully with the resins for a scent that is perfumey yet dark, that is bright but not high-pitched. It's a subtle, soft, pleasant scent that owes just a little to the original Snake Oil. I like this a lot. I'm fond of temple vipers, too. They're very cute.

The florals here are sweet and sugary, and a little pale. I don't recognize any of it but the lily and narcissus. In the bottle it's faint and soft. On, this is a wonderful blend of Snake Oil with florals, something you would not think would work but absolutely does. The florals have a sweet, juicy, slightly green quality that's only enhanced and complimented by the richness of Snake Oil. I like this really well, despite having expected to despise it. It's quite pretty, and even though it's a bit soapy at the end, it lasts a good long time. Also, unlike a lot of florals, it's polite – it doesn't have a lot of reach, and what throw it has is smooth and pleasant. I have to admit to being just too amused by a scent called "Cottonmouth" when the snake of the same name is one of the vilest creatures on earth (and I say this as one who loves snakes, and even loves cottonmouths). Biting you is hardly the worst that they can do. An adult specimen can cover eleven square feet with a potent mixture of urine, feces, and musk, and furthermore, they will do so at the slightest provocation. Thank goodness this smells way, way better than the genuine article.

This blend is meaner than hell. The vetiver hisses right out of the bottle, followed by the rough crystals of opoponax. Vanilla? Coconut? Maybe faintly in the background, but mostly this is just plain fierce. It does smell of Snake Oil, underneath the vetiver. It's very nice, actually, once you pass the initial vetiver blast, which is powerful. At first on the skin it's sour, sharp. Like cut grass, bitter. It settles a little, smells of Snake Oil plus this razor, keening edge. It's pretty, but not really friendly at all. If Snake Oil is comfortable as a well-loved boot, this is finding a snake in that boot. The drydown is more sedate, almost loveable, but it keeps that fine vetiver tooth.

Snake Oil The Sequel: SPAWN OF SNAKE OIL. This is like Snake Oil plus all the things in Snake Oil I already liked. Hello hot almond cream, hello warm and friendly myrrh. The orange here is a candied orange, like orange frosting. I suspect that's the influence of the almond, which smells like baking. Oh, this is yum, and I haven't even put it on yet! This is like an exotic, beautiful woman, her body draped in beadwork and coin scarves and veils of silk. Her hennaed hands and brilliant cinnamon-colored ringlets are the same color as the spice she smells of. She moves with fluid grace and an air of mystery. And in her hands . . . a plate of vanilla sugar cookies. It's super-exotic with a dash of the friendly and familiar. How can you go wrong here? If you like Snake Oil, you really must try this one. It's like the perfume I wanted Snake Oil to be. Utterly divine.

This is tart with a sharp berry topnote. The neroli and cardamom are underneath, but the berry is very powerful. It's not a sweet smell, it's a tart smell. Delicious and mouthwatering. The vanilla blooms under this, smoothing it and creaming it together. And, ah, the amber! This is nothing like Snake Oil. It is a totally different scent. Totally different. This is fresh, berrylike, sharply spicy. Once it settles a bit the throw is very Snake Oil, but up close, nope, still tart berries. This is quite unusual. I've never smelled acai, so I don't know how much of what I'm smelling is the fruit, and how much it's been influenced by the heavy spices here. The more this dries, the more Snake Oily it is, but it still has a very strong berry note right up until weardown. Very pretty!

Mmm! Fruity numminess! This is apple, with a bit of citrus zest layered over some breezy florals that are not overwhelming but are definitely present. The Snake Oil scent is in the backseat here. On, it's apple, apple, apple! With a hint of juicy flowers and just a little cinnamon. This smells like homemade apple pie before it's been baked. The apple scent is really raw, smells like a fresh, sweet Gala apple picked at the height of ripeness. It gets sweeter as it dries, becoming sugary flower-petals and subtle spices. The finish is almost completely spiced apple. Beautiful! Like the coral snake itself, this is a sweet and good-natured scent without a lot of bite. Like Les Bijoux with a little more spice, or a heavier Beltane.