Happy Heathen

In the bottle: I don't know how they do it, but this stuff smells exactly like absinthe. Admittedly I've only smelt the real thing once, but it was a pretty distinct scent, and this is exactly it. The wormwood is exceedingly dominant, giving it an earthy smell almost on the verge of rot, tempered lightly by the anise and the tiniest whiff of mint. It's very odd; not something I would pick out as a perfume but more than intriguing enough to catch my attention and make me want to try it. On myself: 'The barest hint of lemon'? I SMELL LIKE A BLEEDIN' LEMON DROP! No, I am not exaggerating one iota - my wrist smells precisely like someone dissolved an entire bag of the little candies in extra-sugary water and spilled the whole thing over my skin. What the hell. There's no anise, no wormwood, no mint or cardamom or hyssop - just the intensely sticky sweetness of lemon. I'd be more offended by smelling so foody if it didn't make me giggle outright at the total absurdity of it. As it dries, the lemon does fade, but only the anise comes forward, so that now I smell like licorice; I seem doomed to be a walking candy store whilst wearing this. At the very last it does finally smell more like very sweet absinthe, but it still resembles candy more than alcohol. I think the final verdict is that, although I generally loathe smelling like food, this just makes me giggle so much that I want to keep it anyway. It'll be a fun scent for summer, for days at a carnival or road trips with the windows down and hot dusty air rushing by.

In the bottle: Oh, gods above, this has the potential for disaster. Sweet beyond anything I've ever smelled, heavy with a heady alcoholic note that smells more like vanilla extract than mead or rum. Creamy and almond-y and quite overpowering. It reminds me, bizarrely, of Hepzibah Smith in The Half-Blood Prince - fat and rich, with the remnants of a faded beauty, cluttered and complex enough to crush the breath out of you from sheer proximity. Definitely the oddest BPAL scent I've encountered so far. On myself: This stuff hits my flesh and suddenly I feel like I've walked into a Yankee Candle Company shop. I quite literally smell like a candle. Can't think of which kind, precisely, but it's achingly familiar. It feels like it should be called "Harvest Spice" or something similarly silly; there's thoughts of Thanksgiving pies baking in the kitchen on a cool, crisp evening with a fire in the grate. The sickly alcoholic scent is gone but replacing it is something I'd swear up and down is wax - what, in this blend, could possibly be giving me that impression I have no idea. But the smell of candles is so strong I'm almost about to start looking for a wick to light... potentially a Very Bad Idea given this stuff is on my wrists! It's a truly weird perfume, and even on the second try I'm still rather at a loss as to whether I like or dislike it. I'm keeping it for now, because in addition to smelling like candles there's something about it that reminds me oh-so-vaguely of the Rennaissance Faire; I might wear it for that depending on what costumes I go with. But I'll definitely not be after another imp of this, let alone a larger bottle.

Based on a Romany incense blend reputed to induce sexual dreams: Somalian rose, Moroccan rose and Bulgar rose with a sultry dribble of cinnamon. In the bottle: Cinnamon, cinnamon, and more cinnamon! This isn't the warm-tangy-sweet taste of cinnamon, however - my guess is that the rose notes tone it down, leaving a cool, almost clinical spicy scent. The rose is there but it's so overpowered by the cinnamon it's nearly indistinguishable. Don't sniff too deeply, or the spice will make you sneeze. On myself: Once applied, the scent becomes floral; the rose notes rise up through the slightly faded cinnamon to become the central tone of the potion. It goes just a tad bit soapy on my skin, although not in an objectionable way - it creates a combination of freshly-washed flesh and spiced winter flowers that in my mind is somehow distinctly Victorian. There is definite presence to this perfume, much more of a throw than Bordello but also considerably more gentle, nothing in-your-face or overwhelming. Surprisingly, the scent never does warm up; it stays calm and cool all the way through the faintly bitter fading notes.

In the bottle: Sickeningly sweet, like a child's berry bubblegum, with the plum strongly in the foreground and the currant only a half-step behind. The amaretto's virtually undetectable, the wine wet and sugary. On myself: Absolutely divine. The sickly-sweet note fades to something sweetly nutty, which I would assume is the amaretto coming into play although there's nothing I can distinguish as distinctly almond. The wine mellows and dries, lending a dark air to the playful fruitiness. This is a woman's scent, not a girl's, although there's nothing overtly sexual about it. It does indeed evoke mental images of a bordello, but to me it calls to mind the House in Brotherhood of the Wolf rather than anything from the Old West. Rich society, high class, and something vaguely French about it. The only discernable drawback is that it hangs close; there's no "throw" to it at all, which is something I prefer in a perfume. But all in all, I adore it. May need to get a second imp of this one.

In the bottle: I open this and get a whiff of... shaving gel. Blinking in surprise, I sniff again, and nope, there's nothing herbal or flowery about this, it's just mens' shaving gel. Specifically, Edge. The bright turqoise kind. This is hilarious to me. I had no idea what to expect with this one - I wanted it purely out of unabashed Oscar Wilde love - and I was devoutly hoping the patchouli wouldn't be sufficient to give me the headache it usually does. But it doesn't. The whole thing just blends into the intense, very invigorating, extremely fresh scent of a young man who has just stepped out of the shower and has paused only long enough to slap on some aftershave. It does have me concerned about what, exactly, it's going to do on my skin, since I'm an extremely feminine person and generally favor much sweeter, more langorous scents for perfumes. On myself: Within instants, all concern has evaporated; this scent is perfect. It warms rapidly and now the tonka bean is distinct - like vanilla, but not the harsh alcoholic tang of vanilla extract. Something softer and rounder and somehow like I imagine cinnamon would smell if it wasn't spicy. Though I can sense the thyme and patchouli, I can't pick them out; they add dimension to the scent without any distinct presence. The moss adds an incredibly vague, comfortably out-doors-y tone to it. If I think about it, I can distinguish the jasmine and the lavender, adding sweetness and preventing it from becoming at all foody. This is not an edible scent, but I nevertheless feel like walking about with my wrist glued under my nose. It's exquisite through every fading note. The verdict? I'm in love. Utterly. But even through the golden haze of total adoration, I have to ask just how often I would actually wear this scent - as flawless as it is, it's emphatically NOT "me" in the sense of being something I'd wear everyday. And it isn't suited to nights on the town the way Bordello is. It might work quite well for job interviews and business situations, but it's too gorgeous to waste on such mundane matters! Argh. Dilemmas, dilemmas. Whatever the case, I entirely adore it and I'm getting a 5 mL bottle first chance I get.