tamburlaine

All Night Long was one of my first big bottles and I still haven't had the chance to review it. Shame on me! It's probably one of my absolute favorite BPALs, and I plan to hoarde it. Why? It smells amazing -- cinnamon, which doesn't irritate my skin at all -- and some nutty "voodoo" smell that drives me and the men absolutely bonkers. Let me tell you: This shit works. I applied it directly to my neck, and the next morning, after a particularly fantastic evening with a male friend, I discover that I have not just a hickey, but a full-on bite mark exactly where All Night Long was applied. I put it on for a platonic male friend and his response was, "Holy hell, that smells... oh man. You shouldn't wear that unless you want me touching you in ways that we have designated as inappropriate for our relationship. DAMN, girl." So, in conclusion, ladies: You have to buy this if you want to get laid. That is, of course, unless you smell sexier in florals. I smell the best in woods, spices, and orientals, so of course this blend works like the A-Team with my own personal chemistry. In the winter I put it on my bra and on the inseam of my jeans where there's more friction and the scent gets carried around. Hooo, boy. Even when I smell it on myself I get a little frisky. I said that it was one of my favorite BPALs, but no, I think it is my absolute favorite BPAL. Because while Aries 2007 (my current fave) is so bizarre and new it's a masterpiece, and Snake Oil of course smells like sex and cleverness, All Night Long is totally original, totally bizarre, totally sexy, and, best of all, it gets the job done. Period.

My sun is in Leo, as is Mercury, as is Mars. I of course bought two bottles. In the bottle: Lightly spiced saffron orange. Frankincense ahoy! On my skin: Ah yeah, The Pumpkin Queen comparisons were apt, but Leo 2007 is more dusty, and a little more fruity/citrus. The Egyptian Amber drowns out the budding frankincense scent but holds onto the dry, pungent, and unusual fragrance of the saffron. In drydown the scent melds to your skin; this is the way you want your skin to smell naturally in the summer: slathered-on with soft resins. This lion is a kitten -- its sensuality is soft and not raging. Only because of my Leonine nature, I'm disappointed that this blend weren't more fiesty or spicy (or long-lasting.) The amber tempers Leo 2007 too much, and after 35 minutes we get a rather typical perfume offering. I suggest to wear this into fall and winter.

I've never purchased a bottle from The Salon collection before, but I went crazy for the items in Exhibit III. After long consideration, I chose to get Cleopatra Testing Poisons because of my extensive academic work in toxicology and general devotion to the study of poisonous substances. (Don't ask.) I was eager to see how Beth would artistically interpret the things I study scientifically. Hemlock? Aconite? Belladonna? The cyanide fragrance of bitter almond? Too cool. I thought I'd give it a whirl. In the bottle: Immediately I'm confronted with the bitterness of this blend's alkaloid ingredients. The scent is sweet and bitter -- a subtle reminder of the flowering plants in the blend whose sweet fragrances conceal nasty poisons. I can also smell the myrrh very clearly. On my skin: Wet, the blend evolves into a sexy herbal resin. It's very weird and alien -- not something that department store perfumes would dare. I think my nose is sharp enough to detect the lingering breathy peach kernel and a touch of the masculine hyssop. I'm not 100% sure what saffron oil smells like, but there's a weird component in Cleopatra Testing Poisons that reminds me of saffron's pungent hay flavor. The bitter almond component is definitely the strongest here, and in the drydown the myrrh and honey make this scent eerily sweet. There is not a lot of morphing; the oil is very professional. Cleopatra Testing Poisons is so thorough in its illustration, the bitter scent components actually stick in the back of your throat and give the impression of swallowing toxins! It's such an uncanny sensation that I can't hold it against the stuff -- it's just the creation I dreamt BPAL would deliver. This blend is extremely evocative and profound. If I were to classify it, it would be a herbal soft oriental. The GC it reminds me of is Al Azif, but with bitter almond. It's sweet and darkly bitter at the same time; it illustrates the deceptive nature of poisonous flowering plants and the sexuality and desperation in Cabanel's painting.

This is a strangely discordant blend that on me smells exactly like new leather or new car smell. Whaaaat? In the bottle: Plasticky cassia with that indescribable musky blend of red musk and sandalwood and a brief whiff of sweetness. On my skin: New car smell + woodsy spice. Very odd. I'm not a big fan, but, granted, my chemistry is a fickle friend of sandalwood's. Eliminate the sandalwood and the red musk takes center stage with the cassia, which on me dries down to a relatively tame and pleasant cinnamon duplicate. Also, I get the mango. Fruity notes always find me. No lemon peel, though, which is too bad, since I think it's fun to mix spice and citrus. After 10 minutes this blend is very nice, but the cassia drowns out a lot of the other notes.

Cardinal fire: the essence of identity. Black pepper, honeysuckle, opoponax, dragon’s blood, and wild ginger. I have no Aries in my chart at all but I still identify strongly with the sign, so imagine my glee when I saw the blend included some of my most favorite notes! Pepper? Check. Honeysuckle (one of the only florals that works on me?) Opoponax? Dragon's blood? Ginger? Check, check, check, check! In the bottle: It smells like chai tea. Pepper right off the bat. Dwindling in the background is the ginger. Hooray, spice! On my skin: More pepper tempered with the sweetness of dragon's blood and the floral tingle of honeysuckle. It still smells like chai with the lingering floral emerging in the drydown. As it completes the drydown, it reveals itself as a true-to-form spicy floral, like brilliant fire razing a flower garden. Awesome. Very sophisticated; I've never smelled a big brand scent as daring and ambitious as this one is. Very Aries. I would have preferred this to have come out in winter, as it's a vibrant and spicy scent that would've warmed up and complemented the cold months, but that's not Aries' alotted time, so I understand. I'm extremely pleased with this blend. It's all I expected and more. Brava!

Someone above remarked that Temple Viper smells like Snake Oil incense. I agree, though I'll expand on the image and say that it smells like a viper who works at a head shop. (Imagine that!) Immediately I smelled that bittersweet frankincense and hyssop, followed closely by the unmistakable champaca. The blend then dried down with a sweetness, and I'm left with the sugar cane and remnants of the champaca. Very interesting, but not a keeper.

I received this as a frimp from the Lab on my last purchase, and I'm surprised to say that I LOVE IT. Civet appears to totally jive with my skin chemistry -- that may be because I'm on the prowl 24/7. Civet smells like... well, it smells like civet, so there's no way I can accurately compare it to something else, but on me it closely approximates the smell of root beer + walnuts + nasty sex. Nasty in a good way. Satyr is a warm smell, like there's some spice or amber in there to mellow out the civet and add sensuality to the bawdiness. It smells very similar to the TAL Blinding Glory of Love. If you're a lady who likes what Satyr stands for but is a little overwhelmed by it, get a sample of Blinding Glory of Love. It's Satyr with a dash of mint and floral notes.

I'll preface this by saying that I hate cats. Ask anyone who knows me and they'll say, "Julia occasionally flips out whenever she sees a cat, launching into a manic tirade about how they think they're better than her and how they're pompous animals who are actually good for nothing. And she'll always finish her creepy rant with 'Dogs rule'! She's a complete freakin' weirdo." (I am!) However, when I saw the list of notes for Bakeneko, I was floored. This blend has every. single. note. right. I love citrus (especially golden citrus like tangerine,) I love cinnamon and spice, I love tea, I love amber, I love musk, and cardamom and cherry blossom I can handle with ease. So of course I had to get Bakeneko, despite the cat thing. No brainer. In the bottle: Golden spiced tea, similar to an orange spice tea that Celestial Seasonings carries, or like Constant Comment from Twinings (I think.) It smells of orange chai, with an emphasis on the chai, because it's not a sweet smell, but spicy. On the skin: I get the amber, I get the cardamom, I get the cinnamon. Luckily it isn't red-hots cinnamon, but natural cinnamon-stick cinnamon. The scent is not sweet, but a happy fusion of golden sun and musky earth. Drydown: The sweetness of the cherry blossom comes out to play with the tea leaf, which becomes more dominant as the cinnamon steps gracefully into the background. I never get to smell anything distinctly satsuma, or at least not the zing!pow! Body Shop satsuma that sucker punches you in the jaw. There is, however, a citrus note, but it remains coupled with the lingering cinnamon. Bakeneko is a lovely blend, but the lack of citrus splendor disappoints my expectations. The throw is minimal and the lasting power is short. The cardamom leaves a weird feeling in my nostrils like it did in Bastet and Absinthe, but it's nothing awful. I'm keeping this blend; It'll be awesome in the oil burner! (Dogs rule!)

I purchased Faiza because I'm obsessed with snakes. I like reading about them, playing with them, owning them, dancing with them, and the one time I was bitten by a rattlesnake, I didn't mind it too much either. I also like smelling like them -- well no, I don't like smelling like them, per se, but I like smelling like Beth's renditions of them. It seems pretty clear Miss Elizabeth is as enamoured of serpents as I am. Of course, if you like snakes, you must bow to the black mamba. Dendroaspis polylepis is a marvel of a creature, and it simultaneously proves the power and existence of evolution and a higher being. It merges rationale with mysticism. So, I bought Faiza, the Black Mamba, because I like black mambas (duh) and because I thought Macha's painting was glorious, and because I'm a big fan of amber, sandalwood, bergamot, black musk, honey, and ginger notes. I knew, however, going into this adventure, that it wouldn't be the best scent for me, because it would undoubtedly be slightly aquatic -- and I hate aquatics -- and maybe a little bit too floral for my tastes. In the bottle: I smell grass. Something green and fresh is wafting from the bottle. I'm guessing that's the ti leaf, caraway, maybe the green sandalwood and jasmine sambac there also to lend a woodsy/floral, almost smoldering quality to Faiza. On the skin: I can smell the unmistakable burnt floral of the jasmine sambac, also a smattering of white floral and earth: The gardenia, honey, oakmoss, and more of the sandalwood. Drydown: The orange pulp and bergamot make this green blend sweet and sour -- much like the dual nature of the black mamba itself. The black musk arrives in the drydown too and, though I like it sometimes, makes Faiza a little too sour, powdery, and dark. The black mamba has bitten me, it seems. As it finishes its run, I get hints of fruity blackberry among the cautious bitter notes. I guess you could say I was a little disappointed with Faiza since she will probably be swapped away as soon as I can decant some of her to keep in my collection. But that doesn't mean she is a bad blend. The green sandalwood component is great, but the blend on the whole could use a little more vanilla or amber to add to the sexuality I know belongs there. I will say that I don't think she is a good portrayal of the black mamba. Black mambas live in savannah land, where it's dry and rocky, not lush and green. Their skin color is not black as in the visual portrayal of Faiza, but a rather boring olive or grey. Only when the serpent opens its mouth to threaten you do you see the face of death; its mouth is the color of pitch, of the grave. Beth's interpretation of the black mamba is inspired and the resultant blend is lovely, but not lovely enough for me. As I said, I knew it wouldn't be perfect for me, so at least I wasn't grievously upset with what I purchased.

Bleugh. Even though this is a GC now, I'm not feeling so bad that it smells truly awful on my skin. Shub-Niggurath smells like gingerbread vomit on a linoleum floor that's slowly being cleaned up by lemon cleaning solution. Maybe foody scents and I just weren't meant to be! I can acknowledge, however, that it is very expertly blended. It almost seems like there are two layers of scent that never merge: warm spicy ginger and a sophisticated citrus/herbal. Though it doesn't work on me, I know a good blend when I see it, and Shub is one of them.

Mm, this smells like a classic. In the bottle I immediately detect the musk, which reminds me of Haunted. The oil on my skin smells tangy and spicy, like a blend of frankincense and lemon peel and eerie spikenard. As the blend dries down, the woodsy notes show up and round out the scent with a sweetness, which I attribute to the opoponax. Finally, it becomes a little powdery, but that was to be expected, since that's what happens to me with anything patchouli, BPAL or not. Lycaon is a very masculine scent, and indeed "brutal." I can smell the feral quality in the woodsy/resinous mix. I'm a little disappointed that the spikenard didn't come out to play with me for longer, since that's the note I was looking forward to the most, but the oil does fulfill its promise nevertheless.

Mm, Catalyst smells wonderful! I get nothing but a soft lemony ginger, similar to the smell of Origins' line of ginger products, but smoother. It kind of smells like lemon shortbread cookies: couched in comfort. The lemon on me is not astringent, but calming -- it puts me in the right mood to get stuff done. It imparts a sense of calm and focus, not a feeling of frightened urgency or the horrible feeling of having your feet to the fire when you're nearing a deadline. Since I used this in an oil diffuser and with only a touch on my throat and heart chakras, I can't talk much about the drydown or anything like that, but Catalyst is a good blend to help you relax and get things done in a timely fashion. Taking a deep sniff of it chilled me out when I was jittery from too much coffee! I imagine if I used the oil on a regular basis, it would inspire me, but thus far I've only used it when I've needed to snap out of procrastination. What I wrote while "under the influence" came easily to me and the words just flowed as I typed; there was no feverish scramble, in other words. In the future, I'll use Catalyst when I'm not running late. I think it has great potential.

The minimalistic design of the label is lovely and very appealing; there's an eerie meaning behind this formulation, so it's spooky and effective being confronted with nothing but the ominous number 13 on the label. In the bottle: First whiff is definitely chocolate and orange. I also smell a bitterness lurking -- likely the rooibos tea or the orange rind. On the skin: Yes, this is definitely a morpher. Wet it changes from the bitter cocoa/orange to a cocoa floral. I can distinctly smell the mimosa and the lavender is popping up to say hello as well. Luckily, I'm a fan of lavender's, because it become surprisingly dominant in the blend. Just the other day I used Baku and The Candy Butcher because I had been wondering how a lavender/chocolate blend would work out.... and then in my mailbox I find 13. Whaddaya know. The chocolate in this is much more bitter than in The Candy Butcher, however, and the orange rind and the rooibos add a kick to it that is actually slightly unpleasant. Yes, unpleasant, but that's all. I'm surprised as well, but when I take a deep breath of 13/2006, I gag a wee bit. But it ain't awful. I like it, but I can't think of ever wanting to wear it. I may use it as a sleeping blend or put it in my oil burner. Completely dry, it smells like lavender aromatherapy Play-Doh. I really don't mind it, but it's not a scent I'd wear going out. I admit I'm disappointed that I didn't detect more fig leaf -- I love woodsy, musky fig leaf and it's rare to find it in BPAL blends, as they usually stick to the fig fruit proper. All in all, I'd give 2006's formulation of 13 a 3/5.

f_s, I'm sincerely sorry if I upset you with comments you interpreted as personal -- they were not constructed with malicious intent, but rather idle cynicism that I've become used to flinging around with little regard. I have a discombobulated sensitivity gauge (not too good with empathy either) but I apologize if I hurt your feelings. Because I don't really understand why, I underestimated how emotional this issue was for people.

"Spread bile." Interesting choice of words. You know, I was quite careful to include in my original post only what Michele herself wrote and did here in this forum so that my opinions would not be viewed as merely malicious gossip. If Michele didn't want people to notice what she was doing in this forum, she should have been more careful. Oh dear. I was hoping people would have more of a sense of humor about my choice of words. I was being facetious. I would suggest that we all relax, but I don't want to infringe on anyone's right to freak out. Come on.

Uh, yes. She has been blacklisted by individuals, quantum spice. What else could I have meant? Obviously the forum has not issued an Anti-HAEE notice. Enough individuals have spoken against HAEE to put the company at odds with BPAL customers in public opinion, and yes, it's their right to inform fellow consumers and/or spread bile as they will.

Macha, that was an excellent reply. Since I have no personal stake in this, I think it's only fair for me (us?) to take a more detached view: girl didn't cover her tracks well enough, didn't play the game the right way. I don't know if that means she should be blacklisted, though; she hasn't done me any wrong, and the wrongs that she did to the community I'm in really weren't all that grievous. (Certainly they haven't reached the extent of the FeMaledictions debacle... which is a whole other shitstorm.)

This is, hands down, the best BPAL oil blend I have ever put on my skin. It's chocolate, and sweet, and foody, yes, but sophisticated and mysterious so that you don't end up smelling like some tarted-up cookie. The Candy Butcher is a resounding success. Oh god, is it.

Except: this forum is NOT business. While the Lab profits from its existence (especially with the vast reviews area), and they have supported us in the past (such as donating about $1,250* of oils and BPTP items for the raffle and before the raffle), they do not pay our bills. We are an *unofficial* forum, though the Lab has adopted us and we let them post announcements and pretty much whatever they want, because we were created to talk about their products and generally worship at their feet. (Well, the last is an exaggeration, but you get what I mean.) *Keep in mind, running this forum is incredibly expensive -- their raffle donation doesn't even cover four months of our server's expenses. I don't see how that invalidates what I was saying. So she takes advantage of your pro bono organization -- it's a business strategy that's been done before. As you said yourself, BPAL in essence does the same, though they are obviously authorized and encouraged to. It's a very good marketing tool, message boards and things like this.

Accidentally posted twice...

I'm a little bit confused why this is such an issue. These etailers make their oils to make a profit, and doing underhanded market research is nothing new in capitalism and nothing worth the fuss that has been made over it. I get the impression that a lot of the people arguing against HAEE haven't yet grasped the concept that the companies that we know and love and communicate with on a daily basis aren't simply churning out perfume oils for their buddies -- they are part of capitalist enterprises that, whether they're backed by kind people or not, want your money. Apparently looking for consumer trends on the BPAL forums is unacceptable. I fail to see why, given that the information out there is free and the etailer will only make a profit if the information is valuable. This kind of "corporate espionage" happens all the time; HAEE and BPAL don't have enough money to set up focus groups like Coca-Cola or PepsiCo, so they use forums. It may be "unethical" to some, but that's just how things are. Ethics -- ha! This is business. It seems to be that there is a personal grudge against HAEE in particular, and perhaps that is because the company is, in some ways, in competition with BPAL. There will always be competition in the niche market of etailperfume oils just like there will always be competition between Toyota and Honda. Perhaps I've failed to understand why this issue, which seems to be purely a case of competition for capital, has become so damned personal. The "proof" that the original poster has compiled about HAEE borrowing ideas from BPAL, etc., is entirely speculative and, more importantly, not proof of anything bordering illegality. The proof of the pudding is in the eating, and if BPAL makes more money this season than HAEE (and I do believe it will,) what's the big bloody fuss?

Meeow! This scent is very sexy! I get clove, clove, clove, which is excellent because I love spiciness. A couple sniffs of it and I can detect ginger and BLAM the black musk. A delicate sweetness lingers cautiously in the back, thank goodness, and I'm guessing that's the neroli. Unfortunately, the throw of Count Dracula is nil and he vanishes on my skin as quickly as he appeared. I'm surprised I don't have the twin fang marks to prove the delightful encounter.

The Bloody Sword is an uncommon mix of oils, it seems, but it smells so familiar, like a Calvin Klein men's eau du toilette. It is a lot less "dark" on me than the description lets on, in fact, it's very sweet and I get very little of the pepper I was hoping would spring up. Alas, the dragon's blood and the myrrh amp on my skin and turn the blend into a slithery-sweet, masculine, club-hopping, almost aquatic blend. (Whaaat? Perhaps the leather note lent to it smelling aquatic, that happens sometimes.) It was an excellent day for perfumery when this blend was mixed up, but it's not for me, which is too bad, because the name is wonderful and the imagery astounding -- but the scent itself isn't matching the description. A for effort, nevertheless; I have a feeling this blend would sell very well with men commercially.

In terms of scent, Magnet was all citronella. Very sharp lemon, in other words. "It stings the nostrils" in a way that wasn't entirely pleasant, but I wasn't using the stuff on my skin. In terms of practical usage, I found Magnet's potency to come in short spurts. Since I used the oil to anoint candles, I put a lot of energy into this particular ritual (which is hoodoo in origin) but didn't get the same amount of energy back. Immediately after I did the ritual, like the next day, the person who I wanted to come to me did, but then they left soon after and didn't come back until I lit another candle and focused on him again. Perhaps I need to focus harder and fine-tune my conjuring so that I can make the spell more efficient and potent... or maybe I should stop hoodoo'ing people! In any case, I didn't find Magnet to be resoundingly successful, so I can't sing its praises too much, but it's possible that a lot of the issue lies with me, not the oil.

I didn't want to write a review of the scent of Blinding Glory of Love before I could give an accurate assessment of its efficacy, but because the aroma is so, well, glorious, I thought it deserved a jumping-of-the-gun. On me it smells like a minty, slightly herbal Snake Oil, which is mind-blowing. It is, in fact, the scent that I expected out of Snake Oil but didn't get (instead I got lovely, but a little too much, sweetness.) The mint dries out pretty soon and you're left with a more potent, more musky Snake Oil. I'm serious! It's a powerful scent with a powerful throw; I can imagine why this is an enticement blend. Because I am unattached right now, I can't prove its effects since I haven't lasso'd a gent in the past two times I've used BGoL, but I have noticed more coy looks coming my direction. (The young men at my school are notoriously aloof and the object of much competition -- 70%/30% Female/Male ratio, so this oil would be gangbusters if it could beat those odds in two days.) When I get more conclusive results after using BGoL more often, I'll edit this review. But for the time being, I have to rave about the scent: It is beyond fantastic, and though this is a bit taboo, if the oil ends up doing nothing magickal for me, I may just try and increase my chances all the more and purchase it for cautious cosmetic wear. Edit: I'm not entirely sure this was the cause of the TAL oil, but after doing a few candle rituals and rubbing the stuff on my hands, an old lover has come back to call, and with overwhelmingly romantic intentions.