Naamah_Darling

Chocolate-flavored yum! This is Snake Oil with a strong shot of chocolate liqueur. I really think this adds something to the original, completes it in a sweet and foody way. I realize Snake Oil is the Lab's most popular scent, but it's always been a 3 out of 5 for me; that said, this chocolate version gets 5 out of 5 for being just generally delicious with just a hint of sweet, sweet perfume underneath. Wonderful! If you like Snake Oil and cocoa scents, try this. The cocoa is so thick here that the oil will actually separate, and you have to shake it to mix in the absolute. Delectable, creamy, perfumey chocolate. And people wonder why I love this hobby.

This is slightly green and bitter, a little woodsy, over the expected Snake Oil smell. I like it! Let's try it on. This still smells Snake Oily, but there's a distinct greenness here that I like. It's a deep, slightly dirty green, though it's cleaner than the rest of the Snake Oil smell, if that makes sense. It's mossy, indeed. Briny and bitter. The salt and green notes persist even into the drydown. Very nice, if not exactly my thing.

You're not going to be able to tell this is Snake Oil at all. The cinnamon, cassia, and red ginger are all that exist here. This is fiercely spicy, fiery and rough. The throw is all zippy, rambunctious spice. It's not hard to recognize cinnamon and ginger here; the cassia is like cinnamon but at once a little woodier and a little sugary. This has formidable throw, not that that's a bad thing. It's really quite pleasant. The Snake Oil smell is buried under there, way down deep. You really have to sniff to find the resemblance. It smells more like Snake Oil the longer it wears. The cinnamon dies back, leaving the cassia and a bit of ginger, and allowing the spicy, liquid smoothness of Snake Oil to come out just a little bit, right at the end.

This one smells pretty much like straight-up Snake Oil, but with the zesty incense of frankincense lingering in the middle ground. It's slightly less sweet and a little more refined. I like this a little better than the original; the incense notes really come out on my skin, and they help tame some of the aggressive roundness. The throw is really nice, mellow spice and incense in a warm haze. This dries very incensey, much more so than Snake Oil itself, which finishes off with spice. I like the dry phase of this really well, again, better than the original. But, then, I love incense blends.

The original is on one wrist, Diamondback is on the other. The most immediately noticeable difference is that Diamondback smells of sage and just a hint of rawhide. It's a very different scent. The creamy spice of Snake Oil is less intense here. This is much less rich and fruity, and more clean and smooth. The sandalwood gives it a woody, raw feel. This is, indeed, very "western" in feel. It's subtle. I have tried Snake Oil both fresh and aged, and this is more like the aged scent. I want to say it has less patchouli in it, and the sage gives it a definite greenness that makes it a slightly cleaner scent than the original. They finish so differently that it's hard for me to see them as the same scent; Diamondback is sandalwood and sage at the end, where Snake Oil is mellow spice and vanilla.

This is lighter than you think. It's green and spicy, the easiest things to smell are the ti, the bergamot, and the jasmine, with a dash of gardenia and a little bit of ginger. Think pale and spicy instead of dark and dirty. On, orange, jasmine, ginger, softened by a little vanilla and a very smooth musk. This has a sensual base, but the green notes here give it a cold-blooded feel. I find it very hard to believe this is coincidental. The Lab are very good at what they do. I can see the right kind of person going for this scent in a big way. It reminds me of Rakshasa, Goneril, Dragon Moon, Mantis . . . clean, sweet, light scents, scents with a little coolness, and maybe a little spice. This isn't my sort of smell, but it's really beautiful. On me, it goes a bit sour, turns yellowish like venom. Crushed flowers, soured with just a touch of rot. This is a hypnotic and deceptive scent, thick with the cold breath of reptiles. Well-done. Not my thing, but well-done.

This smells nothing like I would have expected, demonstrating that "Shows what you know!" is still a perfectly valid catchphrase. This is perfumey and bright, sharp and smooth at once. The musks are in the center here. Over them, a thin trickle of poppy and tobacco. The lilies are in the background, and neither the patchouli nor the currant are making an appearance in the bottle. This is very interesting. The currant does come out on my skin, so that up close this has a deep bass note that is sticky and a little disturbing. I'm still not getting much patchouli, which is just as well, probably. The lilies, too, are behaving themselves. This is definitely feminine and perfumey in character, but it's dark and spicy rather than sweet and bright. Chrysanthemum moon was a little like this. Hollywood Babylon, too, only this doesn't have that creamy sweetness. The throw is softer, sweetish musk and fine, white lilies, just a hint of them, and a dash of tobacco. It's definitely detectable, but not overpowering.

How is it, when I order these things, I manage NOT to see the words "orchid" and "paperwhites?" I know neither orchid nor narcissus work on me, and sandalwood is usually foul as well. Why do I keep trying? This is a pretty scent. That is why. Normally, white flowers are very fleshy and rich. However, here, the herbs and myrrh keep them crystalline and cool in the bottle. It's anyone's guess whether this exceedingly pretty and delicate floral will survive the onslaught of my feral chemistry, but it's worth a try. This is floral with a hint of bitterness from the white flowers, and also from the herbs. The jasmine is lovely, but it's in the back seat here, behind the paperwhite and orchid, both of which are delicate but strong. This winds up soapy rather than powdery, which is a nice change. It stays floral throughout, and the myrrh and herbs never really alter its essential flowery paleness. I do recommend this for people who like florals. I still don't think it's a good bet for someone like me who can't usually wear them, but it's a lovely scent nevertheless. Reminds me a lot of Fallen and Hades, actually, only much nicer.

Simple: myrrh and cinnamon. On, it's much more cinnamony, with the myrrh taking a fragrant backseat. It starts hot and just gets hotter, throwing out curtains of scent. The throw is myrrh, but the cinnamon bakes off in alternating waves. Myrrh is a naturally sweet smell, so this is a very sweet incense blend. It is in no way foody, I don't want you to think it is, but it is, in a vague way, sort of candylike, like red-hots. Mostly, it's incense and spice. This has a purity about it; it's quite minimal in its way, but no less beautiful for that. As a concept scent, it's spot on – starts out in a flash of flame, and dries to a smoky, spicy finish that leaves you feeling at once burned and renewed. This is unisex, really, but sexually so. It's an undeniably sensual aroma, and one that is just fierce enough. Very appealing.

The combination of patchouli, pepper, and cloves is spicy and lush, but with the vanilla and amber it smells like flat Coca-Cola. This is doing a damn fine imitation of musk, for something with no musk in it. This is definitely sexual, wildly sexual. The Coke smell dies off in favor of a wickedly-fanged and sizzlingly spicy mix of patchouli and pepper edged with moss. It dries to the most delectable, roughhousing blend of spice and earth, with the faintest hint of meanness. I really can't praise this one enough. A lot of BPAL blends do the spicy patchouli thing, but this one does it better than any of the others.

Frankincense and florals . . . sweet and light, with a hint of greenness to it. It goes on heavy on the frankincense, with a resiny, incensey cast to it. The rest is powdery and soft, but there is a persistent fresh note, like crushed woody stems. I assume that this is the palm frond and the reeds/grasses. It's a pretty smell, and it's not as floral as I expected. If it has any floral character to it at all, it's a subdued, spicy floral that is slightly sweet but not sickening. It dries to a powdery, greenish scent. An interesting smell, slightly brooding, slightly sensual, and very pretty.

This is a bit high-pitched, moreso than I thought it would be. I blame the opium. In the bottle, this is traditionally perfumey, a combination of opium and other incenses. On, it practically vanishes. Where's the smell? All I'm getting is a sort of woody thrum, a low-grade incense purr that has no throw and virtually no presence even close-in. It does smell dusty. I imagine there is sandalwood in this, and perhaps a faint hint of white pine, like sawdust. It's barely there at all. How odd! This never really comes up, it just sort of fades away. Sad!

This oil is a lovely orange color, and smells strongly of caramel, sandalwood, and something sweetish and fruity. Under that, as it warms, is cinnamon and tobacco. This is, indeed, dark and bittersweet, and reminds me not a little of Miskatonic University. The cinnamon isn't a dominant note for most of its life. Mostly it's caramel, sandalwood, tobacco, a little of patchouli's rich dirt. It stays this way through most of its life, smooth, sweet, and a little dirty. I like this very much. Very much.

Friendly, charming, cuddly, with a mean streak. Sounds like me. Cocoa and lavender are strong in the bottle. This one is viscous, and there's something dark settled at the bottom of the imp that I have to shake to mix with the rest. The smell is strongly chocolate/herbal, like this lavender-flavored chocolate I like to eat from time to time. Interesting! More strongly lavender than I'd like, but . . . here goes nothing. This chocolate is rich and milky, creamed toogether with a little vanilla. But oh, shit, the vetiver is under there, giving it a sharp, bitter note deep down. Vetiver is one of those attention-getting notes, and putting it with a sweet and foody smell like chocolate creates a frisson. Something isn't quite right here. The lavender keeps you from noticing it right away, because it and the vetiver occupy a similar part of the smell, but once it fades, you can see that what you thought was a well-groomed, well-fed dog is really just a big wild animal. The musk and vetiver overpower the lavender, and the chocolate stays strong. Its drydown is really cool – it's musk and the cistus (resin of rockrose), with a touch of vetiver and the smoothness of chocolate/vanilla still lingering. Much less foody, but still furry and soft. Very nice! It really is a neat smell, but it always has that feeling of being about to go over into foul territory. The combination of chocolate and dark musk is particularly . . . fragrant. It's not a scent, it's an odor, if you know what I mean. It's dirty, almost stinky. The kind of smell you imagine would appeal more to your pets than to you. I like foody scents, but I'm not keen on chocolate, so I don't like it as well as I'd hoped, but it is a very effective evocation of the fragile balance between man and beast. A little civil, a little savage, not quite all there, but pleasant enough as long as you're scratching its tummy. Well-done.

This Lunacy blend is a dark one, suited to the blackest nights of the year, slightly woodsy with a touch of juniper. The sweet ozone and sandalwood blend together, as do the musk and amber. Juniper and cedar float on top. I don't typically care for woodsy scents, but this is beautiful, not overwhelmingly green. On, it's much spikier, here is the thicket blooming with juniper and cedar, broken twigs and the scrape of fur sliding through the brambles. The musk is a throaty undertone, right down there with the churned leaf-litter smell that's a combination of sandalwood, pine, herbal orris, and the low thrum of amber. This is outdoorsy but classy, refined with just a touch of the feral, a scent that catches you with one tooth just as you think you've slipped away. A masculine scent that is reminiscent of a very herbal cologne. It dries to a juniper and cedar finish with a warm undertone of sandalwood and musk, pleasant and just a touch dirty.

Aquatic and cool with an earthy tinge, earthy but not dirty. On, it comes right out with a flood of aquatics and a mild pine overlaid with a fierce lash of grassy, green florals, and perhaps a faint touch of sweet lemon. This is not animalistic, nor is it dirty, it's a cold sort of earthy smell, remote and crystalline, and ultimately aquatic and floral in character. Floral for people who can't wear florals, really, since it doesn't appear to contain any of the ingredients I object to. Everyone is comparing this to water. I'm going with the clarity of the moonlight that comes when a storm breaks up in the night, leaving the smell of rain and crushed juicy stems. It's very pretty, and instead of being frightening or fell, it's quietly sad. And very patient. The kind of dark that waits for you. Dark broken only by moonlight, starlight. Darkness, yes, darkness before we found fire.

What do you call it when you try something knowing it will not work on you? This is lilac, lily, sandalwood, and musk in the bottle, sweet, floral, and pale. A nighttime scent. On, the smell thickens. It has a subtlety to it; the fleshiness of the purple wisteria and lilac and the slightly earthy sandalwood offset the ethereal and cool moonflower and lily. The musk is soft, greyish, and dominant, slightly more animal-smelling than usual, too. I can see it being a mournful scent. It's got all the paleness of night represented by the white flowers, with all the heavy, sodden melancholia of grief brought to mind by the terribly real and solid purple florals. The sandalwood gives a hint of ceremony to the whole. This doesn't go as powdery or as gross as I was afraid. It stays pretty, very pretty, if a bit soapy right toward the end. Doesn't hang around long, though, and is a bit too floral and girly for me.

It smells like candied fruit, not like flowers. Well, that's not exactly right. It smells floral, but not overwhelmingly so, and there's definitely lots of sugar! Now, if I'd read the description again before putting it on, I wouldn't have, but as it was, I'd forgotten what was in it, and braved the carnation anyway. And lo and behold, it's not so bad! The carnation smell is a sort of razzy, buzzy, exciteable floral, peppery and bright. The phlox . . . well, I don't know. It just smells sweetly floral. (I have a hard time with flowers.) Actually, it smells a lot like strabwerry flavoring. This is a candied flower petal smell. It's got a bubbly, cute kind of cheerfulness that's hard to resist. It's not going to be one for folks who don't like sweet scents or candy scents, though, and flower fearers should beware. It's nice enough; I'm glad I sniffed it. But it's not one that I feel like I need to own.

Another description that has me looking up ingredients. Sandarac is evidently a resin from a coniferous tree found in the Atlas mountains; from what I'm reading, it seems to be in the same scent family as pine and cypress. Ravansara is a tree that, while not a conifer, seems to have many of the same scent characteristics as pine; it contains a lot of pine and turpentine oils, and has a scent described as medicinal, camphorous, and fruity. This is so very dark, and very woodsy. It's woodsy in a mossy, vegetal way, though, and not an aggresively pine-cleaner sort of way. I can smell a dark, moist scent, which must be "earth." What the Lab uses for "earth" I will never know. There is a richness to this that blooms on the skin. The frankincense is there, a resinous scent with a slight tang to it. The aquatic note is here, politely, in the background. Not enough to make this a clean scent, quite. This manages to be either a dirty clean scent or a fresh dirty scent; it hovers right in between. I like it a great deal. There's something feral and dangerous about it, the way the various ingredients blend to make one smooth whole is like the way a knife tapers to a point. It's not a penetrating, headache-y scent, but it has a lot of authority. The throw is sweetish, green, and slightly fruity. I'd definitely put this on a man, and I'd recommend it for anyone who likes foresty blends. The addition of the aquatic note is what sets this apart. Fascinating. As it ages, the piney smell comes to the fore, but it's paired with the frankincense, so it smells quite a bit like some sort of incense. The aquatic is still there, but way off in back. More like damp foliage than seawater. I don't know that I'd wear it, but I'm trying it on the husband for sure!

Buttermilk! I don't like the smell of buttermilk. Think about the smell of melted butter. Really think about it. Yeah. Do you want to smell like that? Since it's my job to be the squealing test bunny for these things, I will brave the buttermilk demons and try it anyway. When I put it on, it becomes sweet buttercream candy, with a hint of mint. This is actually very nice once it goes on and loses that rancid milk smell. It has a sugary friendliness, a creamy, sweet, vanilla-sugar yumminess that is ever so appealing. The touch of mint keeps it from being too sweet, and gives it a little extra kick. The throw is a sugary vanilla halo with just a hint of cream. It's a supremely cuddly, warm-blanket scent that kicks the hell out of every other comfort blend I've smelled. As I said to a friend, if kittens smelled like this, we'd never get anything done. I really like this, and I have the sneaky feeling I shouldn't. Still, if you like foody, creamy scents, if you like cake-y blends or creamy blends, this might be worth a try. I'm really loving it. How something so lovely can be so rancid in the bottle is beyond me. Ugh! This is so sweet and yummy, I'm getting fatter just sniffing it. Love it.

This is very strong incense, based in patchouli and musk. The musk, in fact, gives it a kinship, if not a resemblance, to Wolf Moon, which is a nice detail. They are not, however, overtly similar at all. On, it's extraordinary! The incense comes leaping out, here we have an orgy of myrrh and frankincense, made dirty and thick by the addition of patchouli and cypress' rotten greenish note. Never forget the musk, which swims through the loose current of the spices and incense. And here, the clarity of ginger, clean and pure. This is an extraordinary scent not because it is beautiful but because it perfectly embodies something that should be beautiful and isn't. This is rotten to the core. Pretty at first, but laden with rot, decay, and dissolution. Very, very lycanthropic. Wolf Moon is the beast in its innocence. This is man in all his inhuman hunger, the horror of lycanthropy distilled into one churning morass of a scent. Wow. Bravo, guys. This is . . . disturbing.

This is a clean, light floral that's just a trifle too soft and lush to be called traditional, but it's close to it. Very lovely, more along the lines of the more modern bath and body scents that are less harsh. This is sweet, light, and cool, a nighttime scent redolent of flowers, breath-soft musk, and just a little vanilla. It's slightly fruity and very wet. It goes on sweet, smooth, pale, and a bit dusty. I wish it retained its juiciness, but sadly, florals often go to powder on me, and this is no exception. Still, this is pretty. These florals are delicate, pale, and ever so sweet, but this is cut with a greenish dash of something or other. I never do detect the beeswax, and the vanilla is so faint I can barely detect it. It doesn't hang out for long, meaning it doesn't overstay its welcome or go skanky, and it leaves a clean, sweet floral in its wake. Overall, feminine, gentle, and pretty, a good perfume-type scent that's not overwhelming, and a good bet for lovers of pale florals or nighttime florals.

This is syrupy honey, real honey, in the bottle, with a rush of pale flowers layered over it, and a hint of spice. Very, very nice. On, it's nothing like O or the other honey scents I've tried. It's sweet but very light, and instead of being sucked down by musks or foody notes, it's lifted up by the jasmine and ginger. This is a high, sugary, floral scent with more throw than honey scents usually have on me and a great deal of sex appeal. As it dries, the herbal note of thyme, and the rasp of the gardenia assert themselves a bit more, rising above the honey scent to become the dominant flavor of the scent. Gardenia always misbehaves on me, but this variety seems less ornery than most. Maybe that's the stabilizing honey influence, who can say? It winds up leveling out with a smell a bit like pencil shavings. How terribly odd! I like this enough to keep it, but not enough to seek out a bottle. It's interesting, but on me it's just a little too friendly.

Green! This is juicy and green and sweetly perfumey, somewhat reminiscent of Dragon Moon because of the juicy almost melon-like note of the bamboo. It's very pretty. There's a fruity note to this that is probably the oude blending with the bamboo. Once it hits body heat, the tea notes are sweet and dominant. This smells a lot like the green tea shampoo I am so fond of. Overall, I'd call this clean, vegetal, and slightly soapy in character. It smells a lot like Dragon Moon, but less deep and resonant. The throw is very pleasant and moderately strong. It's almost rosy in character, in fact. Like clean, white rose. Lovely, lovely.

This is a soft and slightly green floral with a hint of grainy sweetness and a draft of light musk, very refreshing and light and wet-smelling in the bottle. On, a sharp floral note comes out. I'm not familiar with the distinctions between peony and plum blossom, but I think that's peony. The musk is a billowing softness that carries the whole up, and the ginger gives it just a touch of frisk. It's a very bright, soft, morning scent, quite fresh and refreshing, like a clear dawn after a night of light showers. It does, indeed, evoke the image of a well-tended Oriental garden full of birds. This is poised, genteel, and utterly civilized, the florals reined in by the crisp and clean smell of green growing things. As it fades, it stays soft and close-in, but it gets rather perfume-y; surprising, given its fresh opening. I like it very much, even though it's not very "me." The florals are going powdery, but the green note, whatever it is, combined with the musk, is keeping it fresh and not skanky. This is deceptively layered, and though it appears quite simple at first, it's actually a very complex scent. Sometimes I think Beth does her best work with scents like this, the greenish, moist, Oriental scents, even though they are not my favorites. Perhaps because I'm not overwhelmed with lust when I smell them, I'm more able to appreciate them as wearable art, and not necessarily as a statement of who I am. This perfume is what it is, and it is a work of art. Though this doesn't grab me by the nose, it's not a smell that I can imagine anyone objecting to, ever, and would be a good low-key choice for an everyday office scent. Inviting, feminine, perfume-y but still a little cool.