gentle-twig

The decanter of the forum's Yule decant circle generously included a sample of this with my yule order, along with another of Mischief. In the depth of winter, they were very similar in scent, both strongly reminiscent of spun sugar. Dorian then had a paler quality, but only the vanilla was identifiable to me. As the weather is warming up, Dorian is really coming into bloom and I understand why it's a favorite (I have never tried the perfume oil version). Now I get mostly sweet musk with slightly herbal quality from the tea and fougere. There is a coldness to the fougere accord and a shadowiness to the tea, so while that pale sugary vanilla thing is till in the mix, it now has a lot more dimension. It's not really my thing still, but if you like frosty sugary musks with a little bit of interest, you will definitely like this.

On me this is all about the orris. The powder quality has calmed down since it arrived, and this is no longer conjuring images of green rooms and boudoirs quite so insistently, but pearlescent white orris is still the main player. I get a fascinating twang of green patchouli up top, quite distinct from the husky, nutty thing most patchouli does. Slightly fruity ylang ylang is lending a humid quality—I can see the suggestion of fog mentioned by other reviewers. At times there is also a sappy quality, a smooth greenness that is not a bit weedy. Ambergris, vanilla, and oakmoss are all there as well, but this is far from a vanilla or moss bomb. I think the base notes might give some people soap associations but on me they feel like luxurious vintage perfume. More white than green, more lace than lichen on me. And still more dressing room than forest—but I like these mixing of fantasies! Lace lichen smells like a fairy performer powdering her face before treading the boards of a sylvan stage. This one is fairly quiet but getting stronger since it arrived, I think aging will work wonders.

The wine and the rose lead to a beautiful “jammy rose” accord, the musk and leather are just right. Unfortunately the violet is too sharp on my skin, sigh. Glad to have tested this one because I had been so afraid of bpal leathers. If you like everything else going on here, do not be dissuaded by Wanda’s leather! It is all supple suedy goodness.

Lab included this as a frimp and i was excited because I love the lab’s dirt note and have wanted to try this for a full decade. And it doesn’t disappoint! There is that familiar and lovely earthiness, but it is not just zombi without the rose or nosferatu without the wine. There is a distinct mushroom element I don’t get from other dirt scents, combined with a sparkling and wonderfully cola-like resin and a sharp, dry, soapiness (all laudatory!). I’m obsessed !! Soft throw but long staying power, makes me feel put together while also being a little freaky. This has zoomed to the top of my list for a GC bottle buy because it just makes me feel so good.

When the lab posted this one, I knew I had to have it even though I couldn’t imagine what all these notes would smell like together. But I love silk notes, ink, and myrrh, and was interested in everything else going on here. In ictu oculi is definitely unconventional, but has a kind of traditional perfume note pyramid with distinct top middle and base phases. Only, there is a shadow of oud over the whole thing. The oud here is a little bit challenging, with a goaty barnyard quality, but it has gotten a lot smoother even since I received this bottle a week ago. So how does the hodgepodge of notes in the lab description play out in my pyramid scheme? The top notes are cold and gleaming. I immediately get that tart, shining crimson silk, identical to the “scarlet” silk of Vision, another recent painting of the month. Here it fuses in my perception with the scythe iron and vellum notes. There is something much cooler and sharper at play here than in Vision, and I’m not sure I would even get the fruity red currant qualities of the silk if I didn’t know where to look for them. I had wondered whether the vellum would go paper or leather, and the former seems to be the case. There is that “cucumber” coolness that I often see people talk about in the lab’s paper scents giving everything a faintly green quality. There is also a slight pepperiness and a sharp woody quality, not sure whether the oud or bone dust is what I’m smelling there. The heart note, still under that sheer veil of oud, is ink. So this scent plays out like a metallic flash over matte black darkness for me. I have less to say about it, but I love this stage! The myrrh also gradually comes out, and I am reminded of Galanthus Nivalis, Single Snowdrop, another favorite painting of the month from last year. In the late stages of wear, this is all myrrh and oud. Before they fade into vagueness, this is a really interesting duo. The myrrh has that fascinating bittersweet character, and the equally ambivalent barnyard/polished wood oud makes this a dynamic pairing for such a simple base. I never do get that gold, but I also don’t know what I’m looking for. I wonder if it’s contributing to that metallic opening in ways I can’t put my finger on. If so, it certainly isn’t adding any warmth. Overall, this is a sleek, dark, green-tinged blend with an architectural character. Industrial without being smoky. Completely unlike anything I have smelled from BPAL despite the overlap in notes I’ve mentioned. For me it leans masculine without going into typical cologne territory. Most of the interest is in the first few hours of wear (although these hours can be prolonged significantly if the oil rubs off on clothing), but I don’t care because this screams NIGHT. Despite the baroque inspiration, this is BEGGING to be worn to a rave. I look forward to listening to after dark techno in it year round.

A year on, I have a pretty similar experience to other reviewers. The only thing is on me the brown leather is STRONG out of the gate. I’m not wild about leather and BPAL’s “softer” brown leather notes are particularly irksome, so for me it’s not a great opening. But it dries down to something very interesting—lemony hay, with that suede-like brown leather and saffron giving textural interest. For me this leans masculine, reminiscent of BPAL’s brooding masculine leather blends, but made bright and sunny (and slightly androgynous) by lemon and the airy florals here. I think I’ll try to pass this on to someone soon because I think it could really sing on someone who gets along better with leather.

Initial thoughts: This opens super lemony with a little smoke, which gives way to a sparkling resin accord. The smoke and resins have a little tug of war, but the resins ultimately win out. Not sure what is at play here, maybe frankincense, opoponax, and myrrh? It has tha cola quality but also a real brightness, and at moments there is also a pronounced vanillic aspect. I will definitely be wearing this for a full day test at some point.

This is very much about the fig for me, although it doesn’t seem like it’s going to be at first. Bright mandarin is most prominent at first, with the fig only lending a slight powderiness. Together, I am strongly reminded of Pez candy. But as the mandarin recedes, a fully dimensional fig emerges, slightly powdery, creamy, juicy, and a touch earthy. I love this vision of fig, but ultimately Carnal lacks a certain mystery I like in my fragrances. It smells wonderful, it’s just doesn’t read as perfume to me. For those of you who like to mix BPAL into lotion, I think this would be a wonderful option.

My darling twin got a bottle of the 2024 version and brought it over for me to smell. The opening is difficult for me to describe, it is perhaps “green” but it strikes me as indistinctly sharp and, to be honest, severe. We are definitely in rose territory but the early phases of this rose on my skin strike me as gaunt and austere, not particularly pleasant. Eventually it dries down to a more welcoming, velvety rose, but the opening is not tolerable for me. I wonder if I would get along better with Rose Red.

Wow! This one is exactly what I hoped it would be! On my skin it is all shining, glassy aldehydes and bright citrus. The aldehydes remind me of the lab’s silk notes but here they are probably in a higher dose. At times I can pick up the rosé, rose, and clove but they are very much supporting an interesting orange aldehyde duet. The rosé is dry and bright, not deep and sweet like some other lab wine notes. And the rose is providing a kind of powdery floral backing. The clove is baaaaarely there for me, and this is far from an angry orange on my skin. Very cocktail hour — grown up, vintage-y, but still very fun !! ETA: I should note that this does not last very long, wears on me like an EDC but that also feels fine for what the scent is. I think it would cling to clothes fine though.

2024 version: Eusapia is a garden seen through a white veil. It has in common with Spirit Board a strong lilac note, but this is all bright, otherworldly light to Spirit Board’s murky moonbeam. I get all the elements, but the lilac is by far the strongest, with the white tea adding some welcome sharpness and the wax helping to suggest that stiff lilac texture and stretching the scent out for a reasonable drydown. The wax feels like beeswax to me, but without any funk. The tea is a fleeting top note to me but I second the citrus comments of reviewers of the original release. And I’m impressed that I can actually pick out a sort of yeasty aspect characteristic of real white tea. But mostly this is smooth smooth lilac and wax. And somehow so ethereally white. In that I think this is similar to GC Fae, despite divergent notes. Lovely and definitely the loudest of my Evening With the Spirits decants.

2024 version: Roses darkened by slightly spicy woods, summoning a plume of lilacs. I’ve tried this a couple times and sometimes the elements remain more separate and sometimes they seem to blend together. I prefer the former and I fear that I only experienced that version of this blend due to mail shock. In either case, this is a pretty, smooth, somewhat demure, and melancholic floral blend. Definitely evocative of an anguished nocturnal amble through a tidy Connecticut garden. When the tea note finally arrives on scene it feels as if Mrs. Eugenia has been brought inside and served a hot cuppa to calm her down from all that moonlit excitement.

The opening is a flood of maple syrup glinting with a spark of frankincense. I’m thinking this is probably the same “lemony” frankincense that has been in a lot of recent blends because it is so bright, but it could just feel that way in contrast to the sticky sweet maple. And then…. nothing really happens. Maybe a little bitter edge from the myrrh appears? Definite skin chemistry issues because how are other lucky reviewers getting church incense and not instant oatmeal ??

On me this opens with amber, heady jasmine, and sharp cypress. Gradually, the bergamot comes forward to unify what at first seems like an unlikely combination of notes into a beautiful, indeed wistful, bittersweet whole. In the first hour this is very much a bergamot fragrance to me, and it’s interesting to see an often cheerful note taken in a more melancholic direction. The cypress disappears or else is indistinguishable from the tart/bitter aspect of bergamot. The jasmine sambac (which I buy although the effect is almost like grandiflorum) is present but just enough to emit a brooding sigh. The amber lends just enough vanillic warmth to lend the whole thing some body. Midway through the first hour I start to get the black tea, which here reads as somewhat tannic and yet not as dense as in some other blends with the note, where I find it can exhibit an almost chewy malty sweetness. Here, it has a refreshing fluidity to it and somehow helps the composition flow out from that magnetic bergamot accord that dominates the early stages of the scent. After the first hour the amber becomes more dominant and I worry it will take over, but somehow the bergamot, cypress, and tea are all present through the drydown. Oddly I never get orris, I wonder if it will come out with age. This is really exquisite. I could see people of all genders wearing this but I’m delighted by the certified bachelor or even male diva quality this has. I don’t necessarily see myself buying a bottle because I’m just not sure how it would fit into my wardrobe, but if you enjoy the notes here, don’t hesitate. ETA: Now that this has settled a bit the jasmine and orris have really come out. It reminds me a lot of a vintage perfume in my collection, Louis Feraud Fantasque (for Avon), one of the sultriest little EDCs Avon ever put out. So if you like vintage jasmine fragrances that tow the line between indolic and bright, you’ll probably like this.

I ordered this thinking it might be all about the rose given the painting and then way rose seems to sit between peony and carnation in the center of the spectrum of florals listed in this blend. It’s not! Instead it’s all about the scarlet silk, musk, and carnation. And I’m not mad about it. The scarlet silk seems to my amateur nose be a combination of tart, jewel-toned fruits and a subtle dose of aldehydes. I’m reminded most of the bright salted plum of Koi no Yatsufuji from this year’s lupers, but I wouldn’t be surprised if red currant or pomegranate is involved here instead of or in addition to plum. Vision is slightly tarter and lacking any salt, but both share an addictive brightness that indeed suggests the luster of silk. I wore this to an early Christmas party last night and you could not TELL me I wasn’t a red bulb ornament reflecting the festive cheer the holiday gathering, mama! The scarlet silk is the most dominant note in the early stages of the scent, up to about the second hour. I lose it after that but it does return intermittently. The first other notes to appear are the clove and oakmoss, forging a kind of dense and velvety earthy tangle that offsets the smooth luster of the silk without ever coming close to overtaking it. Then the more important combination of skin musk and carnation appears. This is my first encounter with the lab’s skin musk. Here it has an airy quality that I’ve experienced with red musk (as in Kabuki) and is just doing exactly what I like musk to do, buoying the more opaque silk accord aloft. The carnation is easy to differentiate from the clove, softer with a slight melancholic coolness. Vision lasts FOREVER and gradually the soft carnation musk overtakes the shining silk accord. The “cream” part of “carnation cream” also makes itself known. There is a creamy quality to this floral musk that I don’t get in another skin musk, Neutral (I know I said I didn’t know skin musk! And I didn’t until I tested this frimp that came with Vision so I wasn’t lying, scout’s honor). But one could almost think the musk just had a slight creamy facet. The spiciness of the clove and carnation along with the cream and, finally, the pink rose petals does pull this into an almost gourmand place (think Middle Eastern or South Asian spiced rosewater dessert), but the subtle coolness of the carnation and oakmoss along with the peculiar dry airiness of the musk keeps this from going too gourmand for me. And every once in a while you can still sense that wonderful non-gourmand fruit sheen of the silk note. I don’t get neroli now that the scent has settled, although fresh out of the mailbox it was the first thing I smelled. It may be melding with the silk accord for me now. And the oakmoss and the clove fade from view pretty quickly, but I think they help to give this blend a smoldering quality that might not be obvious from the rest of this review. Complex, smoldering, beckoning. Spicy, tart, and airy. Eternal longevity and high throw. Not the winter rose I thought it would be, but I can’t stop wearing it this winter (And I bet it will layer great with any rose blend I do eventually spring for).

Starts out with gourmand peach and shrill white musk. The peach feels baked and lightly spiced, perhaps with a bit of vanilla. I am learning not to like white musk but here it is evocative, lending fae a kind of spectral otherness. I think the heliotrope is helping out. Together they are like a veil over the humdrum familiar peach, making it sparkling and strange. Next I get bergamot, which feels quite bitter in comparison with the other notes. A welcome respite for this sweetness-averse forumite. Again, I think the hazy shroud of musk and heliotrope is lending some special magic, even if it’s not necessarily a combination of notes I’m drawn to. The fruits feel veiled, frosted, otherworldly. I don’t get any oakmoss and I miss it ! Fae could be gorgeous on the right person, but it doesn’t feel very me. I could actually see it being a wonderful bridal scent LOL. But I want something more down to earth. The bitterness of bergamot reins in the sweetness but i just crave a little more gravity. I wonder if imp is my peach. I should also note that this is a very BPAL scent. There is something going on here that reminds me of lots of other things I have smelled from the lab, especially when I was new to BPAL and just sniffing around at random. There’s almost a quiet accord in here that reads as BPAL package out of the mail.

Opens with what reads to me as chamomile and candied citron—it’s almost like wearing the old luper Lenus Mars while baking my annual Christmas Stollen. The vanilla must be at play in this impressions The sweetness subsides as the blend gets brighter and spicier, but in a way that white pepper and ginger are spicy. Not warm and cozy but bracing. And always there is an herbal quality that reminds me of chamomile or, increasingly, grass. Then the whole thing is overtaken by a soapy white musk (Lenus Mars indeed). Honey begins to creep out., along with milk. Then it’s just a static milk and honey scent in me. I never get tea until about an hour in and then just a whisper. Interesting skin chemistry catastrophe my dears.

In quick succession: plum, orchid, musk, and jasmine. pale, crisp, green. The plum is less juicy than other BLAL scents, almost unripe. Gradually the heady daffodil emerges but then disappears all too quickly. I agree that the floral and fruity aspects of this scent are difficult to parse and I think it’s because of the orchid—a note I’m not too familiar with but something is definitely bridging the stiff plum and hazy florals. Sadly I can’t shake the association with women’s shampoo. I expected something feminine but I don’t think I can really rock this. As it warms up the plum becomes a juicier, brighter more familiar take on the note. After half an hour it is much more wearable for me but still not what I was hoping for. It’s a lovely, slightly green plum supported by a subtle cloud of florals and musk. But it’s not even my favorite plum fragrance out of this round of samples (that would be Drider Crossing Guard), nor is it my favorite Japanese-inspired sample (Aizen-Myoo). So it will be a pass for me.

This is a really gorgeous interpretation of such a silly (yet touching) inspiration. It opens with a lean and gleaming plum. I agree with others who are suggesting there might be sandalwood in here. It’s not that I get sandalwood specifically, but there is something making this very juicy opening feel somehow beautifully austere. The tea, fig, and nutmeg emerge later and are a little hard to tease apart for me. I’m not getting the lab’s malty sweet black tea note, despite the scent description. Again I think others are correct in identifying the tea as white, and there is both an earthiness an astringency to it that helps meld and lift the scent. At times it borders on too astringent for me. But generally this tea-fig-nutmeg bouquet is warmer, broader, gentler, and earthier than the opening. Not at all gourmand despite the edible components. The plum sticks around but is very much a supporting player to these warmer, earthier notes. I don’t think I get the pepper, oddly, unless it is contributing to the “gleaming” quality of the opening. The experience is really like seeing a Drider’s legs gleaming in the darkness, only to have her emerge into the light and see a friend. I’m not sure if I will upgrade to a FB of this, but I will keep my sample and see how it grows on me. It’s very very beautiful and I adore the opening; the earthier later phase is just not quite something I see as very “me,” and that irritating astringency may just be a total dealbreaker, but I may fall in love with it yet.

Opens with soft, almost powdery fig, with something brighter and juicier, accompanied by a woody note that is oddly suggesting peanut butter to my nose. That’s what I get in the first phase of this, and it doesn’t really work for me at all. The peanut butter wood slowly goes more chocolatey and I can at least see what it’s going for, but there is still a kind of split quality with a bright juicy note that won’t meld with the rest of the scent for me. The brightness is similar to the wine note in Nosferatu, and indeed the whole smell feels like Nosferatu gone a little awry. After about 10 minutes I finally see what this is going for, and it is indeed sinister! A fig darkened by earthy notes, with that bright juicy top note now faded to a subtly threatening sheen. I am reminded of the dark plum and bright almost metallic abalone shimmer of the beautiful Koi No Yatsufuji from this year’s lupers, but with an all-in-all more botanical vibe. This phase is wonderfully evocative, but not necessarily something I would choose to wear. In fact, I think I would like Strangler Fig much better as an atmosphere spray. Eventually, the fig itself comes to dominate the scent—surprising, given its gentle nature. Surprised but not upset by the lack of greenness here—not sure if that’s because of my nose or skin or the age of the imp.

From an aged imp: Opens with a dew note reminiscent of the lab’s rain note in The Storm (not a great reference point, but the only thing comparable in my collection)—I’ve always been puzzled by this note, which doesn’t really smell watery to me at all but instead vaguely fruity and ozonic. It dissipates quickly and I’m left with verbena, ginger, and amber. The verbena is much softer than an actual citrus note might be, with a geranium nuance. The ginger is not in your face, but heightens the brightness of the verbena. There might be some grass in there, too, disguised among the bright ginger and somewhat green verbena. And this is all a top a soft, golden amber. Sadly, I’m not getting sage. The overall composition reminds me a lot of Brisingamen, both are big ambers paired with unexpected botanical accords. Mag Mell is broad, hazy, and bright, where Brisingamen is more defined, round, and slightly bitter. This is not for me, but more intriguing than I had imagined. The rarest of things, an amber “freshie.”

From an old frimp— Opens with dry, dark chocolate and a tinge of heady florals. The florals are not to my taste but they dissipate within the first hour and I enjoy the chocolate despite not being a fan of gourmands typically. Tezcatlipoca soon develops a smoky edge, thanks to the incense and leather. I can sense all the notes here but they don’t stick out distinctively at first in my skin. They are all supporting players to the chocolate, giving it a dusty, smoky, earthy quality. Gradually patchouli replaces chocolate as the main player but the vibe is the same. I never would have sought this one out, but I don’t dislike it as much as I thought I would. The lab’s leather notes are usually a miss for me, but the leather here fits pretty seamlessly among the other notes. I won’t be buying a bottle but I’m glad to have tried something to put me at ease with regard to a couple of profiles I usually avoid. For others, I imagine the frank earthiness of this could be a turn off. There is something reminiscent of stale cigarette smoke going on here. I don’t mind these parts of the scent but be warned that it is probably darker, huskier, dirtier than you might be anticipating.

A very smooth and round amber and apple blossom scent. Apple notes can be rough for me, but this one is nice. Nice is really the operative word here all around. The ambers are difficult to pick apart. Definitely sweet and bright ambers, not a lot of labdanum in these. I can detect the Myrtle and carnation if I really try, but they are very much supporting players, suggesting a barely there but very welcome (to me) bitter/herbal/spicy apple skin when paired w the apple blossom and those big globular ambers. If those notes were amped up, or if the ambers were more labdanum-forward, think it could have been an unexpected hit! As it is, it’s not really for me. Too sweet and smooth. But I am charmed by its autumnal romance. And impressed that an apple fragrance can smell this refined!

When I first got this, the pine was a lot for me. I wasn’t sure how to feel. Almost two years later, it has aged wonderfully. Warm, structured, evocative of the pine groves of my youth in the Midwest. There is enough overlap in the scent of these ingredients that it has a kind of kaleidoscopic effect, you might mistake the frankincense for pine or beeswax before becoming aware of the genuine article. A very grounding and comforting wear without being boring or indolent. Halfway between a pottery barn candle and a comme des garçons perfume in the best way.

It’s really making me laugh that this is getting 2 reviews 10 minutes apart on this day. My imp is ancient so it’s not even because the lab is frimping this like crazy. There’s something in the air. Anyway: Kabuki opens with (in quick succession) joyous cherries and blossoms, something waxy — sandalwood? — and what must be anise but to me is taking the blend in a more solemn herbal/woody direction than to the candy store. A gentle, airy musk soon becomes the star, opening the scent up without losing the bittersweet aspects of anise and cherry. At this point the scent is no longer woody at all, but there is still a kind of herbal brightness hiding deep in this scent. I like it but something about it just screams head shop to me in a way that would really limit its wearability for me. This reminds me a lot of Kyoto, which I also recently sampled. I was initially going to say that Kabuki was a kind of grown up Kyoto, but because of the head shop quality here they both end up feel a little bit teenage to me, just different kinds of teenagers. I’m glad to be wearing this because I’ve never smelled the lab’s red musk note. I think it is contributing to the head shop (and even, dare I say, urinal cake) vibes, but I also enjoy it. It’s a light musk without being dryer sheets or straight galaxolide. I think I could really love it in a different blend, it’s really the combination of musk and bittersweet gourmand notes that is making this a slight miss for me.