mountainwitch

When I first put this on, I was ready to swoon with delight . . . It was all sugar, with a lovely blend of flowers that was certainly not jasmine-heavy. Sugary and sweet and all wonderful . . . And then the sugar melted away. Suddenly I smelled like fruity incense, like I remember Spencer's when I was a kid. If only it still smelled like that wonderful opening, I'd be buying this one by the gallon.

Why is it so hard to describe this one without using the word "quiet?" I'm not kidding . . . This blend is clean, fresh, and very delicate. I was expecting a sharp edge of mint, or perhaps something with more of the green-tea note of Apothecary. That's not what I get here, however. The blend of mint, sandalwood and possibly iris/lotus root gives me a faint impression of juniper--but please don't let me scare you off with that! It's definitely not a cedar scent, but it triggers a memory for me: the clean, brisk mint over sandalwood reminds me of wild clouds of juniper under a white frosting of snow. Silence is lovely and understated. It's a contemplative scent, if ever there were such a thing, made for quiet study on a dark January evening.

Ah, caramel. We meet again, my old nemesis. With all the notes in this complex blend, you have to crash the party and put your boots up on the coffee table. There are other guests—something floral? Green? A little spicy? Eventually the fragrance turns spicier, with a lovely amber peeking through . . . But the caramel just keeps going, an overwhelming note of burned sugar, and he just won't use his inside voice.

I was hoping for more wonderful green ivy, but I don't find that here. Not that this is a bad scent! It's buttery, and it has a strong scent of incense and woods. It's not quite what I was hoping for, but it's still a lovely, golden autumn scent.

Wow. This is everything the reviews said it would be. Cold and frosty peppermint, which softens quickly into the most wonderful vanilla sugar . . . Oh, wow. I am in love.

I was hesitant about trying this one, because I was afraid the brown sugar and honey might turn into a caramel-like scent . . . And caramel turns into blackened sugar on my skin. Brown sugar, however, turned out to be an entirely different animal. I can wear this! At first I get a heavy scent of fresh pine, but it softens almost immediately into a warm, golden, wonderful smell. It's all butter, and brown sugar, and yes, cooked chestnuts. My aunt's neighbor had huge chestnut trees at the edge of his property, and I used to collect bags of them as a kid. Some lovely fall days I would warm the chestnuts in the microwave and eat them after school. (Note: do NOT do this without slicing the chestnuts first. Exploding chestnuts are scary. ) Great memories, and a wonderful autumn/early winter smell.

I wanted this at first because I thought, for some reason, it was supposed to help creative people have the courage and positive outlook to work and finish projects. In retrospect I think I was confusing the description with Wolf’s Heart--just seeing what I wanted to see--but it doesn’t matter. I think this is the one I needed all along. The first time I couldn’t identify this scent at all, beyond florals—something like some of the Voodoo and Tarot oils I’ve tried. But yesterday one note finally came to the fore: roses. Lots of bold red roses: not the over-the-top decadence of Pride, or the strangely-bitter scent that some rose blends leave on me, but just a trellis full of crimson blossoms. Roses for courage, hope, and shaking off the dark murk of depression . . . Perhaps I mentally added in the words, “for artists” because this ss what my work needs: drive, hope, joy.

I'm a huge fan of Morgause. It's one of the only ones I've tried where the jasmine was there, but not behaving like a prima donna.

Why is it that I can take something as complex as this scent, with all of these different elements--grapevine, pomegranate, even old friends plum and date palm--and end up with plumeria shampoo? That's just not right . . . I want to smell all the other great notes!

Blackberries. I love blackberries . . . Bewitched was the first fragrance I ever tried, and I'm still crazy about it. Here I get some of those same lovely blackberries . . . But the heather turns into pure dryer sheets on me. Ultimately I end up with berries and dryer sheets. Just can't do it.

A fig scent that goes super-sweet on me. Just over-the-top figgy sweetness--actually, I smell like a dead ringer for a Fig Newton. I used to like Fig Newtons as a kid, but I don't really want to smell like one now. This one smelled way better on my boyfriend; the sandalwood balances out the sweetness and gives the whole fragrance a little more bite. Funny, because I figured the sweet notes would have made this one very feminine . . . That's not always the case! I guess Adam can do this one as well as Eve.

One of my favorite Wanderlusts! Unlike Maenad, the strawberry doesn’t turn into powdery Pez on me. Instead I get a rich, decadent scent, edged with sweetness and gold. This is utterly fabulous.

Berries? There were berries in this? I don't get the iris either, everything being overwhelmed by amber and more amber and then some amber after that. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, as for about the first 30-45 minutes this smells like wonderful and golden. But sometimes amber does a sad transformation on my skin, becoming a bitter, powdery smell. Unfortunately, Florence has one of "those" ambers. Sad!

This one turns into a perfect mulled wine, flavored by a little smoke. Like a good red wine, this is a rich, full-bodied fragrance--at once woody, spicy, and sweet. It's a little too much for everday use for me, but it's going to be perfect for the right cold, gray autumn day.

Indicolite has composed the perfect review of Kyoto for me. At first I am overwhelmed by very sweet cherries, and then the anise becomes "star" of the show. Too much "licorice" for me; as far as cherry blossom scents, I think I prefer Kitsune-Tsuki.

Apparently bubbling underwater madness smells a lot like a dark-tinged floral perfume. But that's okay--R'lyeh is one to swoon over, and not just because I've lost too many sanity points. This is a dark, almost juicy fragrance that lasts forever on me (literally, it lasts overnight). I keep coming back to my imp of R'lyeh again and again--as the lab, with its understanding of the great mysteries, is apparently aware. They sent me another frimp with my last order, too. No escaping the madness . . . And I don't mind a bit!

Herby and sharp at first; I definitely get a similar note to Intrigue and Khajuraho. This softens into something warm, a little mysterious, undeniably exotic. I don't always like fig scents--Eden in particular turned into pure Fig Newtons on me--but this one is an entirely different matter.

Harvest Moon is the first “lunacy” I’ve ever ordered from the lab. Was it ever worth it . . . I can’t get enough of this fragrance; it’s sweet, balanced, and complex. Some of the notes are so subtle that I didn’t notice them until I tried the blend on top of a moisturizer; that’s when the apples finally appeared, crisp and sweet. Sometimes cherry tends to dominate blends I try, as does plum, but that doesn’t happen here. The overall result is sheer gold, warm and glimmering as the sun on a bright September afternoon.

Someone kindly included just a little of this as a freebie in a swap. Wow, what a freebie . . . This is the smoky, woodsy scent I've been looking for. Most of the others just don't work with my chemistry at all, but this one meets the description exactly: fir, woods, incense, and real bonfire smoke, not the strange burning-house scent that I've gotten from scents like Brimstone. I want this one. I want a whole bottle of this one . . . I want this LE to come back!

I was nervous about this one, as I had tried Seraglio first, which just about beat me over the head with the super-sweetness of almonds. First whiff confirms . . . Yep, sweet almonds. The super-nutty stage, however, passes after about ten minutes. What is left is something exotic, honeyed, very warm and pleasant. This has a kind of golden seductiveness that reminds me a little of Khajuraho, but lighter and less sharp.

Severin is another leather blend I was way too skeptical to order myself. Tea and leather? Why in the world would anyone want to smell like tea and leather? What a shock. The leather reminds me of De Sade, but this time it's made even more interesting--and oddly appealing, almost edible--by the addition of tea. On me the scent seems to last for hours, and I know I need a bottle of this . . . Unless I break down and order a bottle of Loviatar first!

Super-sweet candied almonds. The other notes never really become as prominent as I was hoping, and what does stand out on my skin is almonds and more almonds--and an overall fragrance that is just tooth-achingly sweet. An interesting blend, but just not what I'm looking for.

Apparently I’m all about the ecstasy. There's just a faint hint of leather here for me, and I find it only after a good long time and some dedicated sniffing. Meanwhile the roses are full, rich, and luscious . . . They smell real. They're a little strong for me, but overall I like this scent.

I usually like myrrh. And this is a nice myrrh . . . Thick and rich and almost enough to make me forget about the vetiver. Almost. Not for me, but this is another blend that can make for a good masculine scent, given the right chemistry.

Huge red roses, damp with a warm summer rain, in full and gorgeous rain. I literally unstoppered the imp and thought, "Wow! Those are some proud roses!" While that description might not be the most helpful, I will say that this is the most intense rose I've gotten from an imp yet, and the rose seems to last forever.