doomsday_disco

Spiced Chestnut and Honey.

Peonies and poppies are two of my favorite May flowers, and all the more so now that we’ve moved to Philadelphia, where you see them in countless gardens. Continuing with the theme of serpents making their way through urban landscapes, I’ve created something for myself that I want to share – a Snake Oil-infused bouquet of poppies, peonies, melancholy heartsease, and the last bruised winter hellebores dusted with sandalwood and bound with a vanilla-white silk ribbon.

First, I have to say that I'm not familiar with heartsease or hellebore, so if those are conspicuously absent from my review, that's why. The poppies are the main feature of the bouquet throughout wear, backed by the peonies. I recognize the poppy note from The Serpent in the Opium Poppies, although I believe that one is much stronger on the opium tar than the poppy petals. I did not deathmatch the two, though. The peonies are not as strong as the poppies on my skin, but I can still smell them and can visualize the soft feel of the peony petals whenever I catch a whiff of that note beneath the poppies. I'm not getting much in the way of Snake Oil, sandalwood, or the vanilla silk, but the floral notes are so lovely together that I don't really mind. I wonder if this Snake Oil variant will stay like this and be like Cottonmouth (overtly floral with not much in the way of Snake Oil), or if the Snake Oil will emerge more with age. I am going to have to spend more time with this one, but I'm definitely keeping my decant, and further tests will decide if I need more before this goes away.

This is lovely. It starts off with a burst of green -- I get more of the meadow grass and clover than any wildflowers -- with the Snake Oil as a backdrop. I feel like some of the grass smells like it has been crushed, but fortunately, there are no strong grass clippings to be found. Over time, it becomes less green as the Snake Oil gains strength and ends up being the dominant note after several hours. I get more of Snake Oil's spices and musks here than the other aspects of the Snake Oil (and it smells more like older Snake Oil than recent variants have to my nose). But this is definitely recognizable as a Snek variant (which Snake Bouquet, while also smelling lovely, doesn't have much of a Snake Oil aspect to it at the moment). I think I will end up needing to get more of this before it goes away. I think this Snek is idyllic and perfect for the spring and summer -- and I really appreciate it as someone who lives in the desert and misses seeing grass.

Who doesn’t want a hot, buttery snake? Spiced buttered rum splooshed into Snake Oil with a bit of molasses and cream.

Velvet Brick is mostly about the resins of Velvet (especially the sandalwood, which is indeed gentle) mixed with the warm clay of the brick and sweetened by the cocoa vanilla (although those notes play less of a role). This is nice, but I think just the decant will suffice.

A glass raised to the celebratory spirit of Pride, in defiance of everything conspiring to our collective downfall. *clink* The convivial scent of a Tequila Sunrise (tequila, crème de cassis, lime juice, and sparkling soda water) splashed in the brick-lined gutter.

My skin seems to have run away with the tequila. I get a smoky version of tequila with some of the effervescence of the soda water and the clay and sand of the brick note. The booze is the star of the show on me in this one, instead of the brick. I wish the fruity notes had showed up on me. Alas.

Brick Snek is mostly about the warm, soft, clay-like brick note mingling with the aged vanilla absolute and musks of the Snake Oil. I actually don't get much in the way of Snake Oil's spices or patch in this one, so I don't really find this one to be earthier or hissing with rage as per the description. In my Brick Single Note review, I mentioned that I get some orange blossom or neroli in the brick accord, which reminds me of the sharp version of the dead leaves accord that I've encountered in some dead leaves scents, and I totally get that in Brick Snek, too, especially after the scent has been on for several hours of wear. Although I enjoyed this the most out of the Brick by Brick collection, I don't think I need a whole bottle of this one, but I'll keep the decant around to see how it ages.

Limoncello-soaked blueberries nestled between layers of golden crepe, topped with a splort of lavender whipped cream and sprinkled with tiny curls of lemon zest.

Both my partner and I didn't enjoy the smell of this in the decant; it reminded me of the dead leaves accord that either features neroli or orange blossom that's too sharp on me, and my partner described it as bitter. But on the skin, it immediately smooths over, which goes to show that you should always skin test things and not just judge by your first impression of a scent! This is mostly soft, smooth, warm, and clay-like. There's really only a hint of sand. I actually don't think this is very gritty at all. I wonder if there's some tonka in here, but I'm not great at picking out that note and can't say for sure. I just feel like there's some vanillic softness that's not quite due to vanilla. I still smell some of the sharp dead leaves accord in this, with some definite orange blossom or neroli that I detected in both this and Brick Snek, but the clay in this keeps that part of the scent in check so that it's not screechy and headache-inducing on me. So if you are a fan of the Lab's dead leaves scents, you should probably give this a try. I still have one more Brick scent to test, but I already think that Brick Snek is the winner as far as the brick blends go, because the vanilla and musk of the Snake Oil goes really well with the clay of the brick. While I don't think I need a whole bottle of this, I think I will keep the decant around to try different layering possibilities.

I can smell all of the notes in this, but the lemon is the lightest on me. It starts off being mostly about the raspberry punch (you can tell it's not straight-up raspberry and has been turned into a drink) and elderberry liqueur, accompanied by the Victoria sponge. The cake note isn't just the crumb: the creamy filling of the Victoria sponge is there as well. The gin note first emerges in the background but becomes stronger over time, eventually becoming the dominant note on me after several hours of wear. It's slightly effervescent and juniper-y and reminds me of 21, but with the addition of some fruitiness. The cake is but a memory by the end of the day. I'm going to hold onto my decant and see how this pairs with the new Framboise Hair Gloss.

A soft ploop casting ripples in still water: linden blossom, pond moss, vetiver root, squished mushroom caps, damp soil, honeywort, purple flame iris petals, and creeping jenny.

Black Pine and Incense Smoke.

Here's a quick review for anyone who is waffling on this before the Yules go down. I always go for bottles of foresty scents, and I really enjoy the pine in this, but the incense is of the champaca variety. While both notes are present, the champaca becomes the dominant note over time if you spray it on something and smell it later in the day. I like this, but I would have liked it more if it featured a different incense note (like a more resinous, church-y incense).

Sleek black fur, fuzzy tonka bean, bronze amber and yellow bergamot, black patchouli, honeyed chestnut, and pumpkin incense. I and Pangur Bán, my cat, ‘Tis a like task we are at; Hunting mice is his delight, Hunting words I sit all night. Better far than praise of men ‘Tis to sit with book and pen; Pangur bears me no ill-will, He, too, plies his simple skill. ‘Tis a merry thing to see At our tasks how glad are we, When at home we sit and find Entertainment to our mind. Oftentimes a mouse will stray In the hero Pangur’s way; Oftentimes my keen thought set Takes a meaning in its net. ‘Gainst the wall he sets his eye Full and fierce and sharp and sly; ‘Gainst the wall of knowledge I All my little wisdom try. When a mouse darts from its den, O! how glad is Pangur then; O! what gladness do I prove When I solve the doubts I love. So in peace our task we ply, Pangur Bán, my cat, and I; In our arts we find our bliss, I have mine, and he has his. Practice every day has made Pangur perfect in his trade; I get wisdom day and night, Turning darkness into light. – From the ninth-century Irish poem, Pangur Bán, translated by Robin Flower

I love this room spray and should have just blind bottled it instead of going for a decant and then having to upgrade to a bottle (but at least this way, I have a bottle and then some, which is great for travel!). Lime Green Hearse is definitely LIME GREEN and made for lime fans (if you're down for a sweet lime and not just a freshly squeezed lime, as other reviewers have noted). The other citrus notes are shoved into the background (and read as orange-y -- and the petitgrain isn't screaming bitter orange peel, woot!). I get touches of black pepper and bay rum among them, but they are more noticeable later in the day (if you spray this on something instead of directly into the air -- I've sprayed this on a paper towel to test it, on my couch, and on a wool dryer ball to let it scent laundry). The white musk may be adding a slight effervescence to the scent, but it isn't a main player. I love both fresh and sweet lime, so I love this. I think I reach for it the most out of the four hearse atmos that I own. It's especially refreshing during these warmer months!

Vanilla-soaked sugared pear, frankincense, osmanthus blossoms, and hazelnut.

I was silly to go for the decant route on this one, Hot Pink Hearse, and Lime Green Hearse; of course, bottles were inevitable. The moss and dirt are strongest when this is initially sprayed, but quickly retreat to the background. This is mostly about the Snake Oil to my nose, with the musk, the aged vanilla absolute that the Lab is currently using (which reads as thinner and not as bold to my nose), and Snake Oil's spices being prominent, but not the patch. I get the Dorian mingling with the Snake Oil -- the lemony tea note adds some brightness to it, and the two combine in a way similar to No DNA Test Required (a Lilith scent). However, the Dorian is not nearly as strong as the Snake Oil component. I really enjoy this and am glad to have a decant as well as a full bottle of the stuff. This is probably one of my favorite Snake Oil variants from the past few years.

I initially didn't order this because I was wary of the syrup (I haven't been loving maple scents over the past few years), but the reviews, especially SurrealReality's review (as a fellow non-maple syrup scent lover), swayed me, and I decided to blind bottle it before the Weenies were taken down from the website. I'm glad the reviews made me give this a chance. The syrup in this does not smell like most maple syrups. It is really dark and somehow not cloying. The buckwheat pancakes aren't overly buttery. The coffee lingers in the background, reading more as a creamy coffee to me than a black one, but perhaps that is the cruller note mingling with it (I get the glaze of the doughnut more than the doughnut itself). It smells delicious and is such a realistic foodie scent that smelling it makes me hungry. Every single hearse atmo that I tried last year was amazing (I tried all but two from the collection). I'm really glad I grabbed a bottle of this before it went away!

Delightfully moisturizing and fragranced to charm, not overpower. Treat your skin to a touch of luxury with this sumptuous, softening blend. 13-year aged red patchouli, Damascus rose resin tar, blackcurrant syrup, Egyptian myrrh, and crimson musk seed. Ingredients: Water, Butyrospermum Parkii (Shea Butter), Persea Gratissima (Avocado) Oil, Stearic Acid, Emulsifying Wax, Prunus Amygdalus Dulcis (Sweet Almond) Oil, Tocopherol (Vitamin E), Optiphen Plus, and Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab perfume blends.

A shadowed meadow stirs under a shrouded moon: crushed bluebells release their bruised perfume, Arctic starflower and wild flax weave cold sweetness into the air. A thrum of patchouli-darkened red musk pulses heavily in the air, spiced with cardamom pods, cacao, and red oudh.

Writhing shadows and jutting gray stones stabbing through a starless sky: dark vetiver and blackened patchouli cling to cold rock, while opopanax and resin-weeping trees smolder into thick, hypnotic smoke.

Ecstasy and heresy on the Heath of the He-Goat: molten labdanum drips like blood onto bare skin, red musk thrums with carnal hunger, and gleaming red amber smolders against the writhing curve of the body.

Then a mason came forth and said, Speak to us of Houses. And he answered and said: Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness ere you build a house within the city walls. For even as you have home-comings in your twilight, so has the wanderer in you, the ever distant and alone. Your house is your larger body. It grows in the sun and sleeps in the stillness of the night; and it is not dreamless. Does not your house dream? and dreaming, leave the city for a grove or hill-top? Would that I could gather your houses into my hand, and like a sower scatter them in forest and meadow. Would the valleys were your streets, and the green paths your alleys, that you might seek one another through vineyards, and come with the fragrance of the earth in your garments. But these things are not yet to be. In their fear your forefathers gathered you too near together. And that fear shall endure a little longer. A little longer shall your city walls separate your hearths from your fields. And tell me, people of Orphalese, what have you in these houses? And what is it you guard with fastened doors? Have you peace, the quiet urge that reveals your power? Have you rememberances, the glimmering arches that span the summits of the mind? Have you beauty, that leads the heart from things fashioned of wood and stone to the holy mountain? Tell me, have you these in your houses? Or have you only comfort, and the lust for comfort, that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest, and then becomes a host, and then a master? Ay, and it becomes a tamer, and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires. Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron. It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh. It makes mock of your sound senses, and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels. Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning in the funeral. But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed. Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast. It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound, but an eyelid that guards the eye. You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors, nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling, nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down. You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living. And though of magnificence and splendour, your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing. For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night. Morning mist and the songs and the silences of night: a soft, hazy nocturne of moonflower, dew-touched lavender buds, rose hips, and night-blooming jasmine.