boomtownrat

I'm shocked that I didn't review this years ago. Saw-Scaled Viper was one of my first rare BPALs, a gift from a friend who had decided not to keep it. By the time I got the bottle it was already a few years old, so I have no idea what it smells like when it's fresh. (I'm about to find out, when I get my order of the new version! Eeee!) Saw-Scaled Viper smelled just like sexy cinnamon cookies when I first got the bottle. It still does four years later, only more so. I get a picture of Snickerdoodles that are heavy on the cinnamon. Cinnamon and cassia are always loud on my skin, which is just how I like it, but the vanilla of the Snake Oil binds it to the red ginger and all the other spices so well that nothing really dominates. It's comforting and feels like how I was meant to smell. As much as I adore Snake Oil, I would choose Saw-Scaled Viper over it if I could only wear one for the rest of my days. I could wear it constantly if I hadn't been hoarding it.

Scalia's passing inspired me to wear this today and finally review it. (Obligatory disclaimer: even though I didn't like his politics, I do feel for those who are mourning him.) I've had the bottle since it was first released and worn it sporadically since then. As it has aged, it's gotten smoother. I can imagine it becoming my second favourite patchouli scent after Goblin someday. When I put it on while getting ready for work this morning, I forgot all about the cannabis accord. That's because I really don't smell it either in the bottle or on myself. There might be a passing similarity to the fragrance of The Good Stuff, but if so it's all snuggled up under the patchouli and vanilla. I've got quite a few patchouli scents from the Lab and this is probably the most subtle. On me, Ask The Nearest Hippie is a softer version of #occupywallstreet that I can wear without knocking people over. My boss, who has a pretty keen sense of smell and never fails to comment when I wear something with patchouli in it, walked right past me earlier and didn't say anything about it. Heretical though it may be, I think I like this more than the Revenant Rhythm bath oil. There's just something so mellow and comforting about Ask The Nearest Hippie. I haven't compared it to Banshee Beat because I'm hoarding my precious decant. Goblin is still my #1, but this is good for times when I want a patchouli that's not as loud and sweet.

A friend was giving away imps yesterday, so I thought I'd give Daphne Honey a try. Honey tends to be a good note on me. Lovely, sweet honey was almost all I got from this when I wore it yesterday. I took the imp, thinking it would be good to wear in early springtime. Today, it's a whisper of honey under what my brain is telling me is an increasingly loud, pinkish rose (because I don't know what daphne smells like). Florals are always hard for me to predict, but quite a lot of them make me feel sick or give me a headache. Unfortunately Daphne Honey is giving me a touch of the quease today, in spite of yesterday's great success. I'm washing it off for now, but I'll keep the imp for a while and try it a third time, just to make sure this isn't a fluke. My skin chemistry is at the mercy of perimenopause these days, so for all I know this could be gorgeous again tomorrow.

After a year, A Bright Flame Between Two Jacinths is even more beautiful than it was fresh from the Lab. I don't need to put on much, just a dab on each wrist. Following an initial sharpness in the wet stage, it dries into a scent that manages to be sensual, comfortable, and sexy all at the same time. If I stick my wrist up to my face and huff it's a little sharper, almost animalistic--almost certainly the guaiac--but its throw is sweeter and almost powdery, but not baby-powdery. It's a night in front of the fireplace on a soft bed of thick blankets and pillows with the one you love. The only light is coming from the fire and you're wearing silk pajamas the colour of dark chocolate.

When I first got the bottle nine days ago, I thought that in the bottle it smelled like a nice BPAL version of Bath & Body Works' Country Apple minus the chemical, plastic feel. I put it on and not much changed, although on my left hand I got a green note almost as if I could smell the stem. At the time, it was like a red apple with only the thinnest veil of candy coating. Now I'm getting more of a fruit punch smell when it's wet on my skin, and as it dries it turns greener, more specifically apple and not just sugary fruit. Again, I can even smell the stem. Minutes pass and I get almost a caramelized note coating the faintly green apple. (Yeah, it's funny how this can go from red apple to green apple. My hormones are in flux, so I expect this could be different yet again in another nine days.) For a few minutes on the dry-down it reminds me of an apple scent that I associate with some kind of home fragrance my mother-in-law uses. Then it goes more autumnal and I can even detect more caramel at times, but then it fluidly dances back into red candy apple territory. Where I grew up, we called them red candy apples to differentiate them from caramel apples. This is kind of like a tray of both kinds, but none of them are dipped into the nuts. It's just nut-free candy and caramel apples, and then all the caramel is gone. I haven't actually eaten a red candy apple since I was a kid, but during a certain stage of the dry-down it's easy to picture getting my first one at the circus in the old Charlotte Coliseum, way back in the '70s. The thing is, this isn't how a red candy apple tastes but how it smells, which is why it's not quite as sweet as I expected it to be. It's an interesting and pleasant scent without a huge amount of throw. As cherrycherry said, this turns out to be a grown-up and gourmand candied apple.

I confused this with another Wanderlust that's also got a two-word name and has notes I like, so I decided to give it a little test. Normally I make sure what's in something before I test it, but I had just read about whatever that other scent was yesterday and thought this was it. My stomach churned almost as soon as the familiar aquatic tang hit my nose. Experience has taught me to make a run for the dish detergent when I smell it. Aquatic scents are the essence of nausea in a bottle for me, no matter who makes them, and if I don't scrub them off quickly enough I'll get a migraine as well. Washing this off took two different detergents followed by a coat of jojoba oil that I used to wipe the rest of it off, so at least I can tell you that it's tenacious. I'm just glad I only put a little bit of it on the back of one hand. For some reason aquatic scents are always enormously potent on me, which is another reason I can't wear them. Before washing it off I noticed that it was a loud, salty floral aquatic. There's probably ambergris in there. If you're into salty aquatics with floral notes, then you'll probably love this.

Without waiting for it to settle from shipping, I rolled the bottle a few times and gave it a little dab on each wrist. Beeswax blooms forth like a handmade vanilla candle, the really good kind, nothing artificial-smelling about it. The candle's not lit, though, it just smells great on its own without burning. There's a hint of cinnamon bark. Clove is peeking out just casually, not wanting to draw attention to itself. The beeswax reminds me of The Lights of Men's Lives, so it's almost-honey but not as loud on my skin. Later, cinnamon bark and clove come through to give it a smoky tone. By this point I've dabbed more on my throat, and the overall effect of the fresher application with the dry-down is like I've just stepped into an oddities shop like Loved to Death and they've got candles burning in the background. You know Imaginer, the Clive Barker scent? This is like Imaginer Light. It's got the same rich sweetness, but it's less intense. I didn't get black tissue paper in my package, but I did get a lovely drawstring bag, so inky black it sucks in light and made of a nice velveteen material. What a perfect little package for this lovely scent.

Sinus Amoris is probably going to need some time before I can love it, but I'm not giving up because the bottle only arrived two days ago. Most of the notes blend into a woody scent with kind of a musky quality, and there's a noticeable spikiness from the red pepper on top of it all. That's not to say it's a strong red pepper scent, though, because it doesn't have powerful throw. As it dries some occasional sweetness wafts in and out, but there's never anything foody happening and it's a bit more perfumey than I expected. I think that's the myrrh and oudh talking. This is my first experience with champaca in blossom form, so I don't know how to identify the note. It doesn't seem all that similar to the champaca note I know. My hope is that age will bring out more of the incensey quality I wanted and allow the pepper to settle down some. At the moment, it feels like I'm trying on the perfume of a lady who's far more sophisticated than I am. She's a bit "little black dress and stilettos at a cocktail party in a penthouse," whereas I'm more "black t-shirt and Doc Martens in an Irish pub" (or, more frequently, "t-shirt and skull-print lounge pants at home"). My skin chemistry is rather volatile, so this could all change when I wear it again. Edited on 27 May 2015: I still don't get the incense and vanilla loveliness that so many other reviewers are describing. Champaca blossom seems to be nothing like ordinary champaca on me, and red pepper stomps most of the other notes. It's only been a few weeks, so maybe I'll grow to like it in time, but my experience with Raven Moon 2012 tells me this probably isn't going to become the beloved scent that I had hoped it would be. I took a chance on that pepper and it isn't working well for me yet.

Finally, thanks to stellamaris' review, I think I've pinned down what Kit reminds me of: Al Azif. I get a certain almond-ish quality from both of them. There's a tiny bit of similarity to Defututa, which I suppose must be the sandalwood. On me, Kit is very foody above all else, kind of like how I imagine it would be if I were eating almond cookies in that cafe in Tangier from the movie. As I'm learning, benzoin is a note that my skin likes to amp and I guess it's stomping out the dry notes. I like Kit but I'm surprised that he's so sweet.

I'm using the oil as an after-shower moisturizer because our tub isn't too good for taking baths. Compared to my precious decant of Banshee Beat, this is a bit lighter on the vanilla, just a little heavier on the hemp, and about the same on the patchouli. The scent gently wafts, and seems to become part of me rather than masking me. I feel grounded and content, ready to snuggle up with hot tea and a book, but also up for some mischief. This is a "black velvet broomstick skirt with a leather motorcycle jacket at the Renaissance festival" kind of smell. It feels like an appropriate scent for a neurotic Taurus like me, who really needs the mellowing effects of this scent. My skin is getting drier and more sensitive now that I'm in my forties, so I'm happy to discover that my skin actually absorbs it, unlike my usual lotions that just sit on top of my skin, and it doesn't seem to irritate anything. I put just a tiny bit into the ends of my hair and they felt softer, but my hair isn't long enough for me to get much out of it, so I don't think I'll buy the hair gloss unless it becomes GC someday. Whenever I get some Revenant Rhythm perfume oil, you can be sure I'll layer the hell out of it with this. Like Poenari, I hope it becomes GC. This is my first Trading Post purchase, and it won't be the last.

Aunt Caroline's Joy Mojo is like huffing a paper bag full of old-fashioned candy that's dusted with confectioner's sugar, the kind of sweets you can still buy as a novelty in historic districts and at amusement parks. I specifically envision a paper bag stuffed with taffy that looks like pastel-coloured pinwheels, or the Fourth Doctor's small white paper bag full of jelly babies. When I felt upset tonight, I put some of this scent on after my shower and now I feel calmer. This is a good sleep scent, too. I'll be getting a bottle to keep at home and I'll have to carry the imp with me for those times when I need aromatherapy during the day. I have to add that if you're looking for a GC that's similar to Boo or Ivory Vulva, try this.

My skin chemistry is now at the mercy of perimenopause, so I'm not sure how useful any of my reviews will be while that's still happening. Red Lantern, on me, is a woodsy, faintly boozy caramel that reminds me of a sweeter Kill Devil Hills. Had I not read the notes, I'd think there was rum in it. I don't know why I'm getting wood or rum, but it's not bad. The decant has aged beautifully over the last few weeks, but I don't think I'll need a full bottle because I already have Kill Devil Hills.

This lovely Mama was one of the scents I got as a frimp in a recent swap. I'd been eyeing this one for years, but I've been hesitant to buy a bottle because of the florals. Fortunately they're of the spicy, deep variety, like carnation and maybe a touch of the same rose that was in Baghdad. It's hard to talk about Mama-Ji without mentioning Morocco, Scherezade, and Baghdad because Mama-Ji is what I thought all the other three would be. All of them feel ancient and profound, composed of deep musk and Eastern spices that are just sweet enough. She's not as loud and bold as Baghdad, dryer than Scherezade, and not as sweet as Morocco. Baghdad is the outrageous aunt and the others are three sisters, fraternal triplets. Morocco is the sweet, demure one and Scherezade is the artistic, nonconformist one. Mama-Ji, though, is wicked, rebellious, and temperamental. She is called "mama" because she's a hot mama, not matronly, but after she spends a little time with you she'll settle down just enough to make you think you have tamed her wild ways. Get in her face, though--stick your face up to your wrist--and Mama-Ji's as fierce as ever. Like Aunt Baghdad she's bold and strong, and I can get away with as little as a test swipe on one wrist. Once dry, Mama-Ji blends with me rather than masking me. Or, to abandon the metaphor and get more practical, Mama-Ji is a faintly sweet, barely musky, incense-like blend of unfathomable depth. The florals aren't the kind that make me feel sick unless I go overboard. I can tell that it will overwhelm me if I apply it too liberally, or too close to my face, and if I'm not feeling great that day I shouldn't go anywhere near it. Mama-Ji blends with me, but it's not a skin scent. It's classy, exotic, and would make a sophisticated evening scent, but not for a first date unless you have seduction on your mind and know your intended party can tolerate perfume. Try it if you like Morocco, Baghdad, or Scherezade. Fans of Calvin Klein's Obsession and maybe Guerlain's Shalimar should also give it a try. It's good if you're bold and sensual or just want to feel that way. When you're going to wear it, you might want to apply it at least half an hour before you head out the door so there's time for the scent to settle down. In short, I love Mama-Ji but I have to be sure I can handle what she's going to throw at me anytime I invite her over. I don't know how old the decant is, so it might differ greatly from a lab-fresh bottle. I'll be buying a bottle to age while I use up this little bit. Mama-Ji isn't the kind of thing I'll wear daily, and since I need to wear it sparingly, that should hold me over for several months.

I got nothing but pears and nail polish remover from this, and I have to wonder if my skin chemistry is alien. Maybe it's my sense of smell that's off today, but nothing else smells unusual, so probably not. Mercifully, it has low throw so I didn't gag on my way to the bathroom so I could wash it off. At least it's only a decant.

My frimp of Death Cap waited several months for me to be in the right mood to try it. I smelled it in the imp when I first got it and figured I should give it some time before testing. Then I forgot about it for a while, oops! This is love at first sniff, once it's on my skin, and I hope that affection lasts. I never knew that a mushroom-themed scent could smell so good, because I'm not really a big fan of mushrooms as a food. Earthy scents, though, are appealing to my Taurus Sun sensibilities and they usually work pretty well on my skin. I'm getting coconut and maybe benzoin from this in addition to a really soft, quiet soil note. Admittedly I haven't taken a whiff of live, growing mushrooms, so I don't know how accurate the scent is, but it does evoke that image for me. The sweet warmth is like a snuggly blanket on this overcast, damp early spring day. It's almost like a tamer Goblin. Death Cap doesn't have huge throw, but it's enough for me to smell it easily on myself. I applied it this morning and it's almost time to go home for the day, so it has good longevity. Once I've finished the imp, I'm very likely to get a bottle.

2015 version: I'm surprised this scent doesn't get more love, because it's a gorgeous red musky, woody, resinous blend that is not too sweet and never headshoppy. It's been in my top 3 ever since the original release. The 2015 version is virtually identical to how I remember the 2013 version being when it was fresh. If you missed out on that earlier one, you can always enjoy this newer release, and if you're a fan of the original who's in need of backups, here you go. After falling hard for the original, I've bought one bottle of 2015 and plan on buying at least one more (I go through bottles slowly). If the bourbon geranium is the only thing that's giving you pause, I still think you should give it a shot. I can't do most floral notes, but on me the geranium in Sic Erit mellows from an initial spiky hit into a much quieter spicy kick. For those who don't like woody notes, it's a little more likely to be an issue because I do get a lot of cedar and oak from this, but the amber, musk, and benzoin keep it from smelling like full-on sawdust and planks. This patchouli is a pretty quiet one, just hanging out in the background singing the bass parts. I have no trouble picking out individual notes, yet they all sing in perfect harmony. Sic Erit isn't a big-time morpher, but it can be a bit of a chameleon from one wear to another. I've noticed that on some days it's sweeter and muskier while on other days it's woodier and more resinous. It can survive my own volatile skin chemistry. If you like Clive Barker's Imaginer, then I recommend Sic Erit.

Plum and white musk make this so pretty that I'm sad all the florals are there, because a telltale pain was starting to pulse in my head and I needed to wash it off within 15 minutes before it got serious. Florals so frequently do this to me that I can't be sure which one is the culprit. While it was on, though, Kitsune-Tsuki was shaping up to be the one white floral scent I thought I could wear. The scent is light but not insubstantial. I think it would be lovely in a situation when you want to seduce just the right person, while all others around you would just think "Oh, something smells nice" and go about their business. You could probably also get away with wearing it in an office, as long as you don't have your sights set on anyone in a romantic way -- because I do think there's something about this that lends itself to a certain type of magic. Images of Asian plums and fox spirits robed in ethereal flowers were dancing in my head. Sadly, they'll have to go dance somewhere else. I think a friend of mine will love this, though.

In case anyone is looking for a good dupe for Calvin Klein Obsession, you might try A Bright Flame Between Two Jacinths. On me, it's like a softer version of Obsession once it dries and the green-ish note (galbanum, I guess) fades.

I dabbed a tiny amount on the inside of my wrist, so wee that I couldn't see it because my thirsty skin sucked it up immediately. For a couple of minutes I was enveloped in a deliciously cuddly cloud of cinnamon, orange, and spice. Things were looking good for Al-Shairan. I was fixin' to add it to my To Buy list. Then, either my nose broke, or my skin broke, or maybe an unlisted note busted out and shoved every other lovely component of this scent down so it could "shine." I started to detect a hint of poo. You'd think that would be an instant wash-off, wouldn't you? Normally it would, but my brain sometimes thinks it smells something that isn't there. Sometimes that means a migraine is on the way and other times it passes. (TMI: I'm also having hot flashes at the moment and I suspect perimenopause is screwing with my scent chemistry.) Bravely and foolishly, I thought I might just wait it out for a minute in case my brain was misinterpreting the scent. And then Al-Shairan just basically Hulked out and there was no way I could leave it on my skin. It smelled for all the world like somebody was trying to wash poo off some plastic with a huge lather of bar soap. I started to feel like I might vomit. No BPAL has ever flipped so dramatically from gorgeous to nauseating on my skin. It's upsetting that something so wonderful would turn on me like that. It took three or four attempts at washing it different ways (dish soap, olive oil -- you know, like removes like -- and a hand soap chaser) before just that tiny dab of it was gone, because the other distinctive thing about Al-Shairan is that it's probably the strongest scent I've ever tried. Al-Shairan broke my heart, but that initial blast of cinnamon-orange-spice goodness was enough to let me know this must be fabulous on people who don't have my hateful nose and/or skin chemistry.

Depending on where I apply, Gingerbread Sin can be a gingerbread single note (throat and behind the ears), or predominantly cinnamon with hints of sandalwood and gingerbread (inner wrists and inside elbows), or mostly sandalwood with a hint of cinnamon (back of my hand). There's not as much throw as I expected, but that's okay for work, for snuggling indoors on a cold night, or for a family holiday gathering. She is Gingerbread Snake's drier sister, maybe a fraternal twin. I think she'll age well, but she's similar enough to Gingerbread Snake on me that I don't think I need more than this one bottle.

Simple scents are some of the best on me, too. I find these to be simpler than a lot of other blends. Lemon-Scented Sticky Bat - on me it's pure iced lemon cookies Vixen - ginger, patchouli that's not heavy (in my experience), and orange blossom Mania - white and red musks, strawberry, and grapefruit - I know it's four notes, but on me it's not a complex scent Haunted - if you'd like to try something a little darker and warmer, its black musk and amber combination is gorgeous Persephone - pomegranate and rose (but rose can be dicey for some people)

I get mostly the leaf note, which my nose and/or brain also interpret as bell peppers. There's a hint of ambery, musky sweetness underneath, teasing me with suggestions of how I wanted it to smell. With age, maybe the leaves will settle down a bit and this might become what I wanted it to be. ETA: I tried it again yesterday, 1/17/2015. The leaves are still pretty peppery and they still dominate the scent while it's wet, but once it's dry I get powdery sweetness. Amber doesn't normally go powdery on me, but I guess it does when it's mixed with white cocoa, vanilla, and white musk. I'm sad about the lack of leaves and incense. It sort of reminds me of Coco Chanel and babies, of all things, and there couldn't be a scent that is more antithetical to what I like or who I am. Sadly, this doesn't make me think of autumn at all. ETA: It's 9/29/2016. All this time, Sonnet has been awaiting a sell or swap in the bottom drawer of my BPAL cabinet. Today I decided to bring it out for a test because I wanted a soft, cuddly, Weenie-summoning scent for a rainy day. Now it's just what I hoped it would be! The green of the leaves is still there, especially in the bottle, but it's no longer reading as green pepper. It's a lot more like sitting in a rocking chair on the porch of a mountain cabin in a cuddly sweater, watching the October rain and drinking a hot vanilla-spiked white chocolate. My skin chemistry is changing, but I'm also sure that the scent itself has aged well. Now I've gone from pulling it out of the swap/sell drawer to considering a new bottle if it returns, so I'll have another one to age. This is a scent that required patience from me, but it's worth it.

The layers and complexity of Obsidian Widow are beautiful to admire. First there's the pinot noir, which reminds me of the wine note I remember from Horreur Sympathique. It gradually makes room for a blooming dark rose. Many types of rose are dominant and a little bit soapy on my skin, but attar of rose is less so. Night-blooming jasmine shows up next and threatens to become cat pee, but fortunately that's short-lived. As the scent dries the sandalwood and myrrh emerge to smooth out the other notes. There's no obvious sign of patchouli, but I can feel more than smell the way it's anchoring everything. That's how I experience this when I huff my wrist. At a distance of a foot or two, I get wafts of rose and wine. It's perfumey but it doesn't sicken me the way most commercial perfumes do. I picture a long, whip-thin, ivory-skinned woman with silky black hair piled loosely on her head to reveal her delicate neck. She's Morticia as Modigliani would have painted her, decked out in a floor-length, black velvet, off-the-shoulder dress with a slit up to there. Her graceful arms trace a deadly web of seduction as she glides across a dance floor to the sexiest sad song you ever heard. As gorgeous as Obsidian Widow will be on the right person, that person is not me. She's threatening to give me a headache. I think she might be perfect for a friend of mine.

This was a lab frimp that I got a couple of months ago and was happy to test, as I'm still not sure how I feel about dragon's blood. In Dragon's Milk it works pretty well with the honeyed vanilla, but Dragon's Musk goes weirdly salty even though I don't think there's anything in the description indicating it should be that way. Dragon's Tears screams its presence on my skin and makes me think of pink flowers by the ocean. As wonderful as that would be for some people, it's almost exactly the antithesis of the scents I like. There aren't many florals I can wear, and aquatics are aggressively wrong for me. At least it doesn't seem to be a migraine trigger, which is better than I can say for a lot of the other aquatics I've tried. You may wonder why I even tested it, but I like to try all the frimps I get because I've been wrong about note combinations before. Unfortunately I ended up washing Dragon's Tears off because I wasn't enjoying it. I wanted it to work because I like dragons and the concept really appeals to me, but I just don't think dragon's blood is one of my good notes. My husband thinks it smells like "scented soap." For reference, there's a lot of stuff he can't smell because of sinus problems but he likes dark, sweet, resinous or woody scents on me. I think I might only like dragon's blood in Dragon's Milk. It really needs something sweet to make it work for my nose or for my skin chemistry.

2014 version This is my first bottle of Egg Nog after having eyed it in previous years. There was nothing sweet and creamy in my collection and I decided it was time to remedy that. In the bottle it's pure eggnog, just like the real thing. How does Beth do this? Wet on my skin it's a sweet, creamy, yet cool scent with a nutmeg note that begins to overtake everything else as it dries. Once it's dry, nutmeg is all I smell when I hold my wrist close, but it does waft a subtle creamy scent from the hollow of my throat up to my nose. The creamy scent is not plasticky or strong, and doesn't curdle like I was worried it might. It's sort of a vanilla cream singing backup for nutmeg. In my experience, nutmeg is a note that I have amped in a couple of other scents so my experience might be atypical. Judging by the description, I think the note that I'm finding hard to identify is brandy. It's not strong, but you still might want to avoid wearing it to work until you figure out whether that note stands out on you. Last night I applied some before a party, but maybe two hours later I decided to add some Gingerbread Snake because I decided I needed more oomph for a party. The two scents did layer well, by the way. I'm going to say this will be a great scent for staying at home on a winter night, or for the kind of holiday gatherings where something subtle works best.