feline.by.design

The scent of sacred incense swirling up the steep slopes to Swayambhunath Stupa. Saffron, blessed sandalwood, Himalayan cedar and the miraculous lotus of the Buddha with chiuri bark and Nepalese spices. Earlier this evening I found some scrap paper on which I wrote a jumble of words about Kathmandu and Dirty. I noticed I didn't write the review for Kathmandu (though I did for Dirty) so what follows is my rather belated review. Hello, cedar, hello... Aside from the dark cedar, which at first sniff I mistake for patchouli, there is the smell of.... toothpaste? At the time of this first encounter with Kathmandu, I had never had such a cedarmint combination before. In my notes, I wrote, "I'm shocked, yet intrigued." The mint inevitably overpowers the cedar, and there's the smell of something tea-like in the background. Since my first trial with Kathmandu, it's not one I really find myself reaching for often, although at this time I'm still holding onto my imp. This is probably not something I'm going to be getting a bigger bottle of, though. -doreen

To my knowledge, the fridge should be fine. Here's a posting from the BPAL FAQs that echo some of what's already been said. You may want to put them in an opaque box and then store them in the fridge to avoid the fridgie light going on and off. -doreen

The Ides of March isn't as masculine as I thought it would be. At first, the oil seemed to smell a bit plasticky. I had attributed this to the plastic pipette I was using, but no, it was the oil. I think it might have been the bergamot that contributed to that fragrance. The iris also adds a sort of soapy smell in the beginning of the wear as well. For a moment, I'm not sure if this will be something I'd like, despite the components. After having it on for a while, the wet phase of the Ides turned to dry, and now it's gorgeous. A very herbal, fresh fragrance that isn't too green nor too herbal. A previous review likened it to medicinal, healing herbs, and that's what I would say as well. It could be worn as a unisex fragrance blend, and it's a wonderful choice for spring. I don't know if I'll wear it much during summer or the upcoming autumn or winter months, but this would be a prime choice for le sacre du pritemps. I probably didn't spell that right, but ah well. -doreen

In the bottle, the oil smelled of cedarwood and sandalwood. The smell stayed like this as I took a decapitated Q-tip and used it to swipe some skin on my left arm. In an instant, any sort of foresty fragrance was gone, replaced by nothing but the smell of cinnamon. Cinnamon, cinnamon, cinnamon, and more cinnamon. Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of cinnamon fragrances, as my bottle of Hamadryad can attest to. In fact, this seems very similar to Hamadryad. This cinnamon I smell might actually be the cardamom note mentioned in the oils, but I don't think anyone else has mentioned it to be this strong before. I'm not picking up any green notes at all five minutes into the wearing of the fragrance, just that cinnamon/cardamom fragrance. Is this Whippoorwill? It doesn't sound a bit like anyone else's reviews. :::headscratchy::: Ten minutes elapse and still no green, just the cinnamon/cardamom scent that seems to have been whipped around a bit by a twig. There's a bit of a wood-like fragrance, but none of the leaves. When I bring my nose close, the skin on my bottom lip gets a little irritated, but not to the point where I'm breaking out or anything. It's very spicy, and I like this blend, whether it's Whippoorwill or not. I love green fragrances, which is what drew me to Whippoorwill, but I like hot n' spicy fragrances as well. I'm just really bewildered that I'm picking up so heavily on the cardamom. This is like a bird on fire. Hot n' Spicy Whippoorwill! Even after fifteen minutes the spice doesn't readily abate, though there is a mix of something I can't quite put my finger on, making the overall sniff experience rather unique and complex. On a simple level, yes, you're smelling the spice, but there's something, almost powdery-floral, supporting it from behind. I think, in a very slow way, that "something" is beginning to consume the spice. A few moments, and the cardamom (?) begins to tone down a wee, wee bit. Filling its spot is this sort of light "skin scent." If I were to guess, I would assume it was vetiver, however there isn't any vetiver listed in the fragrance. Would it be the bamboo? There's also some sort of powder scent lurking in the background as well, but it's very faint, and a lot of times I think it's just part of the spice. In any case, it's making Whippoorwill a lot calmer and gentler, but the spice can still be readily detected. I like this, but it reminds me a lot of Hamadryad, and I'm a bit nervous at how my description is so freakishly different from everyone else's. I'm keeping my bottle, but I would be interested in either getting a whole other bottle of Whippoorwill or obtaining a decant to see if there are differences between my bottle and others on my skin. Maybe I just have odd skin? I must say, though, the Springtime in Arkham bottle labels rock. I think they are really cute, even though I'm sure they're not supposed to be "cute." -doreen

Chiii.... Sounds like I'm bound to like all sorts of stuff.... and I do! Erm... You know, there are some astrological theorists who perscribe to the belief of 12 celestials for 12 signs... meaning that two of them haven't been found yet. Yes, I'm guilty of reading Linda Goodman. Maybe I just don't *want* to see Virgo share a scatalogical planet with Gemini. I remember reading somewhere that the planet for Virgo is actually the asteroid belt... meaning the planet is nonexistant! Oh phoo! Okay, enough with the hijack. I think people like what they like, and if there is a link with astrology as to why I like crisp, clean scents so much (which would make sense, being a Virgo, but still....), I think that there would be a lot of mathematics involved as well as quite a bit of variables. Since I already have a fair grasp of what I like, although Beth and her imps continue to surprise me, I don't think I need to go through the headache of figuring out why I like what I like. I'm fairly satisfied without knowing the schematics. I am intrigued by the whole astrology/tarot connection presented earlier in this thread, seeing as how The Hermit (which is battling Chokmah for title of Favourite BPAL Ever) is my most beloved card and most beloved BPAL oil, and there's apparently a Virgo connection. *yes!* Even if it weren't true, I'd still like to believe it anyway. And now I have all the more reason to check out the Magician, with its Mercury connotations. As if I needed a reason to spend more money.... -doreen

Oh, I wanted to add.... Okay, it's not really a 'rain' scent, but I can't help but plug one of my most favourite fragrances, The Hermit. It has a watery, though not aquatic, scent coupled with some really light florals, so maybe it could be suitable. -doreen

I know that my bottles from the Lab have varied in the level of fullness as well. Sometimes this is necessary for the reducer caps. The Lab did use reducer caps for a while before switching to the polyseal caps, and there are some of us (well, me) who buy reducer caps elsewhere (like from Nanda Oils) and need the bit of emptiness for the reducer cap to fit in properly. If you're going to swap, I don't think the swappee (?) will have an issue as long as you let him/her know that the bottle was tested only a little bit, or no testing was done at all. If the oil reaches the bottle's "shoulders," I think that's adequate enough for most people, especially for those who have received BPAL oils before from the Lab. -doreen

At first, Capricorn was really, REALLY dark. It was as if I had stuck my nose in potting soil. A short time passed until it turned into the deep, dark cedar others have talked about. To me, it smells heavily masculine, and would probably work well on a man, or anyone after masculine scents. I normally would fall into that category, but this is very heavy, extremely woodsy. I think I smell vetiver, so now it seems as if the dark Capricorn cedar forest has gotten a bit of rain. There's also an underlying touch of mint or pennyroyal or something with a little bite to it. Something a little metallic. I'm not really sure what it is. Although this is an interesting scent experience, I wouldn't wear it often enough for me to justify hoarding this bottle for much longer. -doreen

This was a freebie imp from the Lab that I've been avoiding, but due to my recent interest in the differences of the rose oils Beth uses ("Rose is a rose?"), I suppose I just wasn't ready to try it out until I had a reason to. In the bottle and on my skin during the initial stage, Harlot was very much like the fresh rose that everyone has described. It smells really nice, almost undeserving of its name of "Harlot," since it seems so fresh and innocent. I don't detect any of the spice at this stage. Just fresh roses, with none of the powdery connotations that often plague scents containing rose for me. As the oil begins to dry, the rose becomes a bit sweeter, and the "dribble of cinnamon" slowly starts to creep into the fragrance. The rose still smells a little fresh, but it seems that time has elapsed, and I envision a flower whose petals are starting to dry at its outer edge. This is really nice. The rose notes remind me of what I experience when wearing Lucy's Kiss. I'm not sure of the two BPAL oils contain similar rose notes or not, but I'm willing to investigate further into the Somalian, Moroccan and Bulgar variants of roses. Actually, I'm not going to stop with just those three, for then my personal rose quest wouldn't be complete. I'd been wearing Harlot for about fifteen or twenty minutes before it started getting a hint of that "powdery" element. It's very faint, though, and for me it doesn't detract from my appreciation of Harlot. The fragrance almost seems to chronicle the life of a rose: its fresh beginning, its bright bloom, its first signs of decay, its dry fate. There is still an underlying currant for me throughout this whole metamorphosis of the rose's initial freshness. This is really a wonderful fragrance, and I'm glad to have a free imp of it. Although the name "Harlot" might suggest otherwise, this is a fragrance befitting for all women. I imagine a very serious, stately matron would wear this, as well as a young ingenue or a sweet new mother. Perhaps that's part of the whole riddle of the idea of a Harlot. Many patriarachal religions view women, all women, as Harlots, yet in the name of "protecting them from men," physical and psychological limitations are placed upon them. I'm sure I'm reading far too much into this perfume, however I have this odd little feeling of solidarity with women when smelling it. It's quintessentially feminine, yet versatile. The hint of cinnamon spice reminds the wearer and those who may come in contact with the fragrance that women aren't always sweet and innocent, but can also be strong and fiery. Anyway, as I wore Harlot longer on the small little patch of skin on my arm, the cinnamon spice came more into play, stronger than before. Aha! It's the mythological Rose-Phoenix! It dies and then catches on fire to be reborn!! What? You've never heard of it? Ah well. Overall, I really like Harlot, and I'm sure I'll wind up owning a bigger bottle of it in the future. Anything that gets me ranting about the status of women in a damn perfume review most definitely gets the nod. -doreen

I'll chime in with the Hurricane recommendation. I got my imp the same day Hurricane Charley tore through Florida, and it smells *exactly* the same. Honestly, I have not a clue how a bunch of Californians can pinpoint the scent of dampness coupled with broken trees, but... wow. -doreen

Though March marks the end of the desolation and chill of winter, it is not yet Spring, the time of rebirth, fertility and the Earth’s fecundity. March’s Full Moon is a Virgin’s Moon, pure, youthful, unsullied and innocent. This is the Moon of the Child, and the scent is as soft and gentle as a baby’s breath: milky blossoms and soft cream touch the last buds of winter, coupled with crystalline, bright traditional Lunar oils. Chaste Moon is definitely buttery or butterscotchy. There is some little bit of milky element, which I do like, but overall the oil is very sweet. Perhaps too sweet. I tested it once before, and my notes say "Not sure if I'll keep this one." I'm not really much into gourmand or foody scents. Now with my second trial using a teensy bit of the oil, my skin smells like a Werther's Original. There is a milk scent lurking in the background, as well as something sweet and a little spicy (which I don't recall during my last test). After a while, it does morph into a sweet floral, which I do like and enjoy, mixed in with some sort of spicy cream note. All right, Chaste Moon has redeemed itself. Even though I keep saying I'm not a floral kind of girl, I think I'm more floral than foody, so I'm actually pleased with the metamorphosis from Werther's Original or Heath Bar Crunch to the flower power with a sweet tooth. Within twenty minutes of putting on the oil, there's yet another change. The flowers fade back, and now I have a very sweet-floral that's not very floral. To put it in a better phrase (because that last sentence sucked), the fragrance is more subdued. It's not almondy to me, unless I'm getting soft on one of my banned notes. It is sweet, though not as foody-sweet as in the beginning of the wearing experience. I like this stage as well. In the end, Chaste Moon really isn't a knock-your-socks-off favourite, and I'm still not sure I'll hang onto it, but I'll keep it around for now. I do acknowledge that it's a very, very curious scent, and perhaps its mutability makes it interesting enough to have around when I feel a bit mercurial. The Lab really created something very intriguing with this one, and I'd like to have more opportunities to get to know Chaste Moon better. -doreen

Wow, what a gorgeously clean floral! Aeval is especially welcome since I've been cleaning around the apartment (in vain), and discovered MOULD in a closet!!! Ew! I hate living with gross boys!!! Ew ew ew eeeewwweeewwww!!! *ahem* Anyway, Aeval smells like it could be wonderful bubble bath. The fragrance brings to mind a clean bedroom with the window open on a spring day. The sweetpea rules my skin, however the other notes, like the sage and the pale musk, support it well. Aeval is a gorgeous scent that would be a wonderful compliment for any spring or summer day, as well as any outing with business folks or your boyfriend's or husband's or girlfriend's parents. It's a respectable, clean fragrance that is really evocative of a huge sweetpea meadow. Keep in mind this is from someone who is normally leery about hyperflorals, but Aeval passes the test of being a floral but not being too flowery. It's very soft and gentle. It would be well-suited to give as a gift to a mother, yours or someone else's. Aeval is such a gentle, feminine scent. I want to wear it, and run around barefoot in a field full of green herbs and sweet flowers in a skirt. That's how feminine it is. Would I get a bigger bottle? I'm mighty tempted. I need some feminine scents to counteract my masculine BPAL oils I wear. -doreen

Now that I've tried a *cough* few more scents, here's a new set of lists I'd like to add. There's differences between this and my previous list. For a woman: Sophia (possible substitutions: Old Paris, Muse, Akuma) Bon Vivant (possible subs: Lolita, R'lyeh) Hollywood Babylon (possible subs: Blood Amber, Lampades) Scherezade (possible subs: Silk Road, Morocco) The Dormouse (possible subs: The Apothecary, Severin) Juliet (possible subs: Endymion, Ave Maria Grantia Plena) I'm not much for roses, so I think my recommendation sort of reflects this. I also *still* haven't tried Snake Oil. You'll also note an absence of a lot of the "Gourmand" fragrances, like Vice and Gluttony. I'm not much for them, either, but if I were to substitute one of the above for something a bit more foody, I'd trade Bon Vivant for Centzon Totochtin. For a man: Severin (possible substitutions: Dorian, De Sade) Centzon Totochtin (possible sub: Tombstone) Black Pearl Fenris Wolf (possible subs: Dracul, King Lear) Vicomte de Valmont (possible subs: Villain, Wilde) Jabberwocky (possible subs: Loup Garou, the currently unreleased Val San Retour) When I gave a bunch of imps and a bottle of De Sade to my boyfriend, he paid little attention to De Sade (which I promptly repo'ed), but found himself using Black Pearl and Danse Macabre a lot. I totally wasn't expecting that, since I thought he was going to use the more woodsy scents like Lear. -doreen

Oh, now this is interesting. On the skin at first it seems like the black musk, or some other dark element, is mixed with some sort of lemon balm. Is that the balsam of peru, or am I smelling the orange blossom? The fragrance immediately morphs into a sort of dark scent mingled with the brightness of, what I at first thought was eucalyptus, but now that I see the list of ingredients, it must be the fir and mint mixed together. Within two minutes, there's another metamorphasis on my skin. Dracul then brings out its tobacco note, coupled with the cumin and some residual orange blossom. It's very dark and mysterious. The musk makes a good background scent. This would probably smell amazing on a man, however it's hard for me to wean my little darlin' off of Calvin Klein's Eternity (bleh!). So, for those of you who lean towards masculine scents, like I do, give Dracul a go. Dracul is dark, but not too dark. It's like being in a forest in Transylvania, with the leaves dense and thick save for a few shafts of light bursting through. I find the fragrance incredibly appealing, although I could see how some might criticize it for being "medicinal." For me, though, the imp of Dracul from the Lab has found a home with me, though if I get a bigger bottle, I'll pass it along to someone else who might find it appealing. -doreen

:::Makes the syrup face::: Sacred Whore of Babylon reminds me of some Voodoo Oils I don’t quite get along with, like Has No Hanna and Aunt Caroline’s Joy Mojo. There’s a sweet, syrupy element that doesn’t appeal to my sensibilities. To be honest, I’m really quite repulsed by sweet scents, and I have little patience for them on my skin. Sacred Whore of Babylon smells like cotton candy, liquefied. Even after thirty minutes, the sweetness of the scent didn’t mellow out at all, although I did note a sort of cinnamon-esque spice coming out. Still, it wasn't enough to redeem this fragrance for me. Someone else out there will like this much better than I. -doreen

I have little luck with Voodoo Oils, with the sole exception really being Wolf's Heart. There seems to be a common tendency for the oils to be super-sugar-sweet and really syrupy. So, with that caveat, I shall begin my review of High John the Conqueror. You know what? It really surprised me. High John the Conqueror had that sweet-syrupy note in it when I first applied it, to the point it made me kick my head back and go "Oh, nooooo!" It was like cherry-coated gardenias, or something equally hideous. Then, like, three seconds later, the smell of a neon-lit IHOP immediately withdrew. I don't know where it went, but I'm left with this clean, "skin" smell. After peeking at a couple of other reviews, being a cheating bastard, I concur with the "wet grapes" crowd. I'm not a wine-drinker (pass the beer!) so I don't know if this is a wine smell or not, but it reminds me of grape seed extract, or the grape skins. You can't really tell it's there. High John the Conqueror isn't a strong fragrance with a lot of throw, but I find it much more appealing to me than most of the other fragrances in the Voodoo Oils I've tried. It's very clean, and I like it. Scent-wise, High John seems like it would be suitable for men or for women. If you're trying to wear this as perfume, you may want to re-apply regularly if you're trying to get a lot of fragrance out, as it's a very light fragrance. Then again, my honker could be totally askew from smelling this patch of skin over and over. It *may* be able to be layered with other oils if you're trying to get the benefits of HJ the C, but I'm not much for layering, and I kind of like its own fragrance of grape peels. It's actually starting to make me crave grapes, but at the moment I'll settle for any type of food. A bigger bottle of High John would not be out of the question for me. I'll hold onto my imp to see how often I rock the Conqueror before I put it on my order list. -doreen

Oh, how very pretty... I'm a big-time jasmine fan, but the jasmine in Muse is subdued. It's there, you can smell it, but it has been held back from being very "jasmine." I actually didn't recognise it in the blend until I looked at the components. Muse is a sweet type of floral that doesn't compromise freshness for sweetness. It's sweet without being sticky, fresh without being truly green. It's a wonderful light scent that should be well-suited for springtime and the upcoming summer months. The lime is noticable in the beginning, but as the oil dries on my skin, it fades away, as citrus is prone to doing. Although the drydown is nice, my favourite stage is when the lime is still there, as Muse loses some of its crispness when the lime makes its exit. I'm not certain what tuberose smells like, but if it smells like this, it must be nice. The lotus seems to prevent this floral from being in-your-face. It's a very gentle scent that would probably have a lot of fans, so long as they don't have issues with jasmine or lotus. All in all, Muse is an incredibly feminine scent. It would go perfect with a white, breezy summer dress. I don't know how often I would wear this, but it would be nice to have a bigger bottle of it around for the days I dress more formal. It's a very elegant scent. -doreen

My word, upon the application, Dragon's Blood to me smells like... BUBBLE BATH?! Honestly, I'm going to sing a little song... Just me in the tub, Me in the tub, Me in the tub with Dragon's Blood! Bubbles in the tub. Bubbles in the tub. Bubbles in the tub with Dragon's Blood! I'm bouncing up and down in my chair as I write this (yes, I am insane) with my little Dragon's Blood Bubble Bath tune. Throughout my wear, it continues to smell like an alternate line of Mr Bubble. Mr Hell Bubble, maybe? "Bubble Bath for your little demon." Dragon's Blood is this rather clean, lightly fruity(?), bubbly kind of Ars Draconis scent that I actually sort of dig. I don't picture caves with scary dragons... I'm thinking something more along the lines of that Gon dinosaur: cute, but can still bite. But mostly cute. :::does her little dance to the song in her head about bubble bath::: No, this isn't a big bottle purchase for me, but I will hold onto the imp. It's bubble bath in an imp bottle, and who wouldn't like that? -doreen

If I liked almonds, I would like this scent. The almonds are a very creamy sort, tempered with the milk notes. It's very sweet in the beginning, but not as sickeningly sweet as some almond escapades I've had before. The almond calms down, but doesn't go away. This would make a wonderful comfort scent. It's very smooth, not too rich. The milk almost manages to dominate the almonds on my skin, accompanied by some really nice oaty smell, which kills some of the sweetness (yay). I quite like it... but I still hate almonds, which are hardly perceived at this state. I'm suprised, as I thought I'd instantly hate it right off the bat, knowing it had almonds in it. Now it's sort of this begrudging... "Yea, it smells good, but I still don't like almonds!" attitude. Reminds me a bit of Burt's Bees Milk & Honey Lotion... but with almonds. It's nowhere near as stong as their almond milk hand cream, though, which was way too almondy in my opinion. I love milk fragrances, but I'm not keen on almonds. For comfort, I turn to Sudha Segara, but if you're looking for a sniff to curl up with and you don't have an almond issue like I do, go for Dana O'Shee. Since I have two imps, I might keep one for the "crop smell" that it eventually turns into. But I still don't like almonds. -doreen

Gah. Okay, the Ars Draconis line just does not agree with me. I smell something almondy/cherry, which isn't my bag. Dragon's Milk is very sweet and syrupy on my skin. On and off, my skin detects a little bit of a plastic-wrapper scent. This doesn't work for me, but if it's you're thing, go for it. I'm glad I tried it, though, so now I have one less scent that will leave me wondering. -doreen

Whoa! First whiff, and I've apparently stuck my head deep in some coffee beans! It's as if I were in a coffee shop. Whoa, again! *snff snff* Make that a coffee shop staffed by a load of alcoholics. Now the rum is starting to take over, and my nose has now taken me to a pirate ship made of coffee beans floating in an ocean of rum. This, too, is staffed by a load of alcoholics. The cocoa and the rum keep tangling with each other aboard the pirate ship of Centzon Totochtin. It's actually a bitter scent, which I wasn't expecting but I like a lot more than the chocolate I've smelled in other fragrances. Also, since I've had an allergic reaction to Spooky, which had chocolate in it, I'm pleased to note that CT is not causing me to rash out. Rather, it's making me long for some irish coffee. Or dark chocolate. I really, really like this. It could be a good masculine scent, which I love since I'm such a fragrance cross-dresser. It's foody and boozy without being all sweet and namby-pamby pastry-like. Sugar? Who needs sugar? We've got rum that's starting to smell a little like root beer! Arrrrgh!! Hey, is that wine I smell? Pass it along, don't hog the booze! This old cocoa ship has set a course for Aztec bunny treasure! I shall now be experimenting with rum and coffee beans while putting Centzon Totochtin on my big bottle list. The pirates approve, and so do I. -doreen

Oh my. I'm not normally a fruity person. Pink Moon at first sounded as if it would be too sweet. On my skin, Pink Moon is at first strawberries and honey. At first, I'm not quite convinced it's strawberries I'm sniffing. Strawberries? No, this smells more like blood oranges to me. It's far too heavy to be merely strawberries. I'm not immediately wild and zany about it, but I don't dislike it. It's extremely juicy, which I like. I keep sniffing my wrist, and after about a minute the florals and sugar kick in, superceding the strawberry/honey marriage but the two are still in the background. It's like a yummy party going on. The juicy feeling is still there, but growing fainter. Although very sweet, Pink Moon has managed to fit within the confines of what I deem sweet enough. I keep sniffing my wrist. Then, after a span of five minutes.... it happens. The faint smell... nah, it couldn't be, but yet... behind the sweetness lies the small yet unmistakable plastic odor of Chap-Stick. Oh, wait. Hello! Now it's gone again. Must've been my imagination. Silly me. Ten minutes into the Pink Moon experience, and the party that was going on seems to have disappeared, leaving a sort of bubbly strawberry fragrance on my wrist. Considering how readily it jumped at me earlier, I'm surprised at how quickly the fragrance has petered out. I wait a bit longer... maybe the notes are taking a break. Maybe the party needed to cool down a bit. Maybe they all ran out of beer, and a few notes are at the store. Who knows what these notes are up to. Well, they're not up to being smelled. Fifteen minutes later I'm shmooshing my nose into my wrist, trying to grasp some sort of faint, errant little note that didn't abandon the scent shin-dig. At this point, I think my nose is making up notes its smelling just to get me to stop abusing the poor thing: Hey boss, I smell lavendar! Oh, wait, no lavender in the scent, huh? Well, uh... how about, uh... wait, how about this?" Indeed, how about that. What was once a myriad of notes both lush and sweet has now transformed into... the smell of skin with a teeny-weeny note of strawberry. Which, really, isn't bad. Sure beats, say, a small waft of onions or a hint of jackfruit. After a while longer, thirty minutes after the initial application, the skin-berry smell is quite sexy. Nuanced, yet still sexy. Overall, I like the scent, but I'm really perplexed about how faint it grew in such a short amount of time. Nonetheless, I'm keeping my bottle of Pink Moon, as the skin-berry smell at the end, again, isn't bad. In fact, it may be a good change for the boyfriend, who feels a lot of my BPAL oils are strong. So long as that Chap-Stick smell that was threatening me earlier is at bay, Pink Moon is a keeper. -doreen

I kind of just want to go "ditto" to what byrdie wrote in the post previous to mine. I haven't had a real good history with the Voodoo Oils. The only one I like so far is Wolf's Heart. Aunt Caroline's Joy Mojo oscellates from the wood chips to line a hamster cage to strawberry or cherry chapstick at first. For the record, I wasn't big on Bon Vivant, and this kind of reminds me of that scent, except with some odd, erm, mojo working in the background. Maybe there's lotus in this as well, as I detect something in the background that my nose thinks is plastic, but sometimes winds up being lotus. After about ten or fifteen minutes, ACJM decided on sticking with the "melted strawberry wax" scent. As it dries, the fragrance becomes less intense and a lot better, in my opinion. It's more like strawberry body spray: light, misty, fun. Although the intentions were good, I think I'll work on finding my own joy. I can see a young girl loving this scent, and it's very suitable for teenyboppers who aren't quite ready for adult fragrances. It dries down very sweet and fruity, which really isn't my thing, as sweet and fruity translates into icky, stick mess in my mind. I may try it as a room fragrance. -doreen

Hexennacht sounded like it would be good for me, but after trying it, I could take it or leave it. The initial stage was grand. Woodsmoke, spring earth and darkness swirled around on my skin. I liked the patchouli that was ruling the scent. But after a while, the scent moved to a lighter "sweaty skin" stage. Then, it turned into "sweaty skin with something floral." I will say that it does last a LONG time. From the little swab on my inner elbow, I clocked in at least four hours of scent time before I went to bed. My analysis so far: I don't dislike the fragrance, but I'm not too crazy about it. If I keep the oil, I'll likely wind up using it as a room scent, like Samhain. I'd like to try it one more time when I'm not fighting a cold, but it's not an issue of being able to smell, as my sinuses are rather clear. Hmm... I'll have to think about this one. -doreen

The Queen of Diamonds is definitely more floral than citrus to me. It's a very feminine floral that isn't over-the-top, yet still manages to be complex. The flowers are gentle yet strong and assertive. It's quite interesting. Imagine a garden where all the flowers are made of diamonds. That's kind of what the QoD is like. It manages to stay on long during my trial wear, so it has a lot of throw. QoD definitely doesn't succumb to the curse of the citrus, meaning it doesn't disappear after fifteen minutes or so. I like this, however I just don't see myself wearing this particular floral combination over more simple picks. I'm not too heavily into the floral camp, anyway, as I prefer a bit of "green" intermingled with the flowers. So, in the end, it's not quite for me, but maybe it will be right for someone else. I can imagine this being on someone who is intelligent and refined, well-dressed and well-mannered. I'm rockin' it at about one out of four. -doreen