PirateMaggie

I'm another person who would bathe in Snake Oil if I could, and now thanks to the Trading Post I practically can. Snake Oil Soap is utterly sublime, in keeping with the Brimstone symbol carved into it. The smell is more on the incensey side than vanilla, and is utterly gorgeous. It leaves me lightly scented, but I can still wear non-vanilla/incense blends after using it. I cut of a piece and stuck it in my shirt drawer. Now all my tank tops and tee shirts have a light Snake Oil smell to them, which makes getting dressed a lot more fun. This is really top-quality soap. It cleans without stripping, and makes a lovely creamy lather. I've been having obnoxious dry overly-sensitive winter skin, and this doesn't leave me feeling all tight and itchy when even my standby olive oil and chamomile soap had let me down. I don't need a really heavy moisturizer after washing with it, and have switched back to my summer blend. I will most definitely be ordering more of this.

Death Adder is Snake Oil's combat-booted deathrock younger sibling with a bad attitude and a gentle soul. At first sniff from the bottle, it's all harsh in-your-face vetiver. Wet, more sharp ass-kicking vetiver, tempered by black coconut which manages to be sweet and lush and creamy without losing its edge. As it dries down, the extra shot of vanilla comes out, giving this blend a sweetness; the opoponax adds a dreamy, dark quality and the Snake Oil base is its dark, spicy, sweet-yet-dangerous self. The vetiver and black coconut are still there, but are more balanced with the other notes. The angst-ridden goth teen has become comfortable with herself and mellowed some, without losing her edge. I can't wait to smell this one in a couple of months when the Snake Oil has aged some. Death Adder is a surprise hit; I imagine it can only get better.

My bottle of Mme Moriarty, Misfortune Teller came with The Wheel of Fortune--not such a misfortune; perhaps a sign of a new cycle to come in life, and definitely a sign of good things to come where perfumes are concerned. In the bottle, this was all musk and patchouli, which often become rank and overpowering on me. Dabbing it on my wrists, however, I was happily surprised. Wet, the pomegranate and plum really stand out, making this a fresh, juicy scent with the barest hint of vanilla for sweetness. The musk and patchouli give it a deep, smoky quality. As it dries, the fruits mingle and become smoky, thick, almost cordial-like, but not at all syrupy, alcoholic, or cloying. The vanilla remains light, while the patchouli gives a hint of freshly-turned earth and the musk makes it a glowing, delicious, second-skin scent. The Mme is surprisingly light for a patchouli and musk blend--not a hint of overpowering head shop here. Despite the fruits and vanilla, this is neither sticky nor foody. This is such a warm, dark, comforting scent, but the fruits would make this a good tear-round blend. I will have to grab another bottle or two before the Carnival leaves town. The Mme also layers really nicely over Lush's Skin Sin lotion--all that smoky, incensy fruit.

Dear Beth, Please make this scent available by the gallon so that I can bathe in it. Okay, so maybe that's an unreasonable request given the price of the ultra-high quality cocoa absolute that slithers from this scent (not to mention that it would bankrupt me), but receiving Boomslang in the mail was a perfect Valentine's Day chocolate treat. This is not a terribly foody chocolate smell--it really is cocoa, not terribly sweetened, that first hits the nose. The Snake Oil base is familiar, spicy-sweet and comforting beneath that glorious cocoa, while the teak wood adds a lovely earthy almost resinous note, tempered by creamy gentle rice milk. Throw and staying power are about the same as Snake Oil, which is to say that a little goes a long way (but I slathered anyway). Just be sure to shake your bottle well before applying, as the mixture does separate. It doesn't morph so much as it dries as much as it gets deeper, sweeterer, and more sensual. The vanilla in the Snake Oil comes out more, deepening the blend. It's rich, warm, and round, the olfactory version of how a cello sounds. This is a chocolate fix in a bottle, a favourite sweater, a PMS cure, a massage, and a kiss poured into a perfume bottle. It's wonderful now, and if it's true to its Snake Oil roots, will get even better with age. Next paycheck I will certainly be stockpiling several bottles of Boomslang for aging purposes. I really can't say enough good things about Boomslang. I'm in love. edited to fix a typo

Wet: unpleasantly sharp cinnamon and disgusting musk. It smells like Red Hots candies and BO. Luckily, this nastiness fades within five minutes--just as I was rushing to the sink to wash it off, in fact--and becomes the warm, comforting chai smell I've been looking for. This really smells like milky chai with honey and extra cinammon. Yum. The ginger is similar to the nice clean ginger in Sudha Segara, the clove and black pepper work to give this blend depth but linger in the background, the musk is soft and warm and really makes this a second-skin scent, and the honey and cinnamon just last and last without becoming cloying. It's sweet, but not overly so, and has just enough throw: it's neither too light or too heavy for everyday wear, though I think it's more of a cool-weather scent. I must have a bottle; Bengal is delicious.

As Bangles said in the previous review, Jester is strawberry Bubblicious bubblegum. Cloying, sticky, artificial-smelling strawberry bubblegum. I would have loved this blend when I was ten or so, but now that I'm staring down the barrel of thirty, I really don't want to smell like bubblegum. Throw and staying power are enormous.

I really like this; it's almost a dead-ringer for Somnium with the lavender and jasmine, but with honeysuckle instead of ylang-ylang so it isn't quite as lush-sweet. I tend to prefer my florals to be mixed with somethings: woods, resins, vanilla, incense, something, but Twilight is really very pretty. I'd certainly recommend it to fans of light florals. This blend really does evoke twilight: soft, cool, slightly dark, slightly fuzzy around the edges, like Somnium it had a very calming effect on me. This would be a good bedtime aromatherapy oil to have on hand.

No narcissus, no lilies, no tuberose--on me this is pure opium den haze and poppy. It's smoky, murky, earthy, and dark. It's interesting as a scent, intriguing even, but wearing it feels a bit like waking up in a coffin.

"...wafting on a breeze" is right: for an incense belnd, Morocco is so light it's barely-there, even after a good slathering. This isn't a bad thing, but there isn't much throw. This is a definite second-skin scent, and it's really quite lovely. For a musk blend, it's almost shockingly clean--it reminds me of Sudha Segara, in that both are light, spicy-clean blends. I too am noticing that warm milk scent, with an almost-vanilla hint (must be the cassia). It's elegant and subtle, slightly sexy but not at all improper. It's the scent of a very properly-dressed woman with exotic features, and underneath her silk blouse and business suit she has on black lace lingerie. Beth has outdone herself yet again.

Pontarlier is really quite pretty. It's a sweeter, more floral, less sharp Absinthe. It isn't much of a morpher: from application to drydown to the time it finally faded, it stayed exactly as its catalogue description would lead one to believe: absinthe dripped through a sugar cube, with light florals, fruit, and a lovely green leafy smell which must be the fern. I don't think I'll buy a bottle until I use up my 5ml of Absinthe because the two smells aren't different enough for me to justify it (not with all those Snake Oil LEs out there!) but it's gorgeous, with none of the sharp lemon and anise that some find offputting in Absinthe. I would whole-heartedly recommend this to somebody who wants a sweeter, gentler absinthe scent. edited because i tipe gud

I had really high hopes for Velvet, as cocoa, sandalwood, and myrrh all usually play very nicely on my skin, but this just smelled...odd. Wet, it was mostly cocoa, but it was unpleasantly sharp and earthy, which was the myrrh fighting its way to the forefront. Dry, the smell was tempered somewhat by the sandalwood, but the myrrh and cocoa contined to clash, fighting each other with the olfactory equivalent of broken bottles and rusty knives.

I really didn't expect to like this as much as I did. I adore BPAL vanilla blends, but amber is very hit or miss with me: it's either glowingly sweet or sickly baby-powder. Happily, in Mouse's Long and Sad Tale, it's the former. Wet, it's mostly lightly floral vanilla--very much like Regan but with sweet pea instead of stephanotis. Very nice (but as Regan is one of my default every day scents, I would say that.) As it dries, it gets even better. The amber comes out, making this a wonderful warm second-skin scent. Then the sandalwood comes out to play, for a slightly smoky undertone which keeps the other ingredients from becoming sticky or cloying. Resins and woods can overpower lighter notes, but not so here. Instead, they work to make an otherwise bright-white light floral vanilla more interesting. I want to wear layers of gauzy tea-dyed white dresses and eat small dainty cakes in a garden when I wear this scent. (Instead, I went to a motorcycle show in stompy boots, but I rather liked that juxtaposition as well: tough leather-clad biker chick in a delicate, pretty, girly perfume.) Throw is rather light, but the amber and sandalwood help it last. Because of the complexity of this blend, I think I actually like it better than Regan and may require a bottle soon.

Smelled nice in the imp, but the notes, all of which normally work on me except for rose (which is often my mortal enemy) somehow combined on my skin to smell like a combination of baby powder and cat urine. Ew.

I really can't say enough nice things about Tenochtitlan. Wet, it's mostly sweet prickly pear jam with bare hints of sage and amber. This is nice in and of itself, but upon drydown Tenochtitlan gets even better. The prickly pear is still predominant, still jelly-like (prickly pear jelly is a treat), the epazote, sage, and coriander give a dry green desert herbal hint to keep the prickly pear from becoming cloying while the poppy gives the blend a heady quality and the amber makes the whole thing warm and glowing. I'm picturing a summer sunset over Guadalajara, shared with a lover. This blend stays interesting; it's complex and warm and comforting, sweet but not cloying. I'm reminded of Rapture in that afterglow quality, though they don't share any notes save amber, but Tenochtitlan lasts a lot longer. Another winner.

Black Lily brings to mind fresh lilies at twilight. I'm not sure how Beth managed to make a lily scent dark, but she did it with absolutely wonderful results. Two of my favourites which are in heavy every-day rotation are Tiger Lily and Prague. Black Lily uses the same wonderful, pure, non-cloying lily, but this blend is different enough from the other lily scents to make it worth trying. I too noted a vanilla hint, of a similar light non-foody variety to the vanilla note in Regan (another everyday fave), but it's the lily that really shines. Throw is medium, and surprisingly long-lasting; ten hours later it's somewhat faded, but I can still smell it at my pulse points. I'm detecting something slightly resinous or woody, but I can't quite put my nose on it: myrrh, maybe, with red sandalwood? Whatever it is, it works. Black Lily is refined, elegant, almost austere, yet soft and comforting at the same time. As others have mentioned, this scent is absolutely velvety--good silk velvet with a deep pile, at that. I bought a bottle of this, untried, because I love BPAL lilies that much, and I am very glad I did.