gentle-twig

If you have made it to this thread, you probably understand what kind of blend we’re dealing with here. I was excited to try it because I love olive notes but it’s really not for me. I mostly get white musk with olive blossoms, vanilla, and a little cedar. It’s very feminine in a contemporary department store vein. Pleasant but feels jarring to have on my body.

Just one plume? I get three wafting together in braided harmony right off the bat. Cypress has the boldest character, but dry and airy sandalwood and denser, nut-bitter agarwood are just as present. The moss silk has a snappy, taut green quality. Those delicate tendrils of incense rise to inflate your green silk hot air balloon (why don’t we take this thing out more?) and carry you miles into the yellow amber sunset to the gentlest eventual moss landing. The yellow amber really is the star on my skin; warm, bright, and smoooooooth. The calla lily comes out after an hour or two and really adds to the smooth, gliding impression of this scent. It’s strange how much the floral and amber feel unified here, warm and yellow yet somehow refreshing. I’m thrilled because many BPAL ambers do not work on my skin, becoming either cloying or dry and scratchy. I’ll have to remember that YELLOW amber is my friend. When I first tested this, the wonderful sandalwood was in the foreground, and even reminded me of the billowing sandalwood of my beloved old favorite Visions of Autumn VII. I think this isn’t going to recreate that magic, but it has magic all its own. And always, there is a crackling hum of incense drifting in and out of perception, growing slowly more mossy and terrestrial as that big yellow sun begins to set. I was thinking I was gonna have to pick between a full bottle of this and Lu Zhishen Pulls the Weeping Willow Upside Down, both possessing a frizzly yet meditative cypress opening. But they are settling down so differently ! Lu Zhishen is bracing and active throughout, where Plume of Incense is happy to let you just enjoy the ride. If anything I’ll probably death match with A Cup of Tea in the Veranda from this year’s yules to see which calm but entrancing glowing amber-floral will claim a spot in my cart.

Hmm… this one is not for me. The pepper is nice in the opening, but the sandalwood is going in two directions at once: warm bittersweet incense and dry sandalwood soap. I think the silk is probably pulling it soapy and the charred part of the silk is joining up with the incense-y aspects of the sandalwood. The ambergris is there as well but is reading as vaguely sweet and powdery. The notes are just not presenting the faces I most appreciate about them.

This was one of the surprise wins of my dangerously delightful shunga decants. The opening of LSPtWWUD is so resplendent: meditative yet stimulating, a collection of herbal-woody notes that are more neat bundle than wild tangle. I don’t know what willow, ho wood or strawflower smell like, but the clary sage and cypress are definitely present. There is a mentholic yet spicy herbal character along with pleasantly springy wood. My twin says “spa” but LSPtWWUD is not the kind of spa fragrance that you are gonna apply and then forget about. Gradually, the golden musk emerges, and somehow its ambery warmth doesn’t seem at all at odds with that cool, austere opening. There is a consistent airy quality to the whole scent that somehow ties everything together and creates an effect that says SHUNGA ! As it has settled, the opening lasts longer and longer into the drydown. At first it kind of turned to generic men’s fragrance with musk and vetiver after the first half hour, which was very heartbreaking. Now the fascinating opening accords linger blessedly on for the first couple hours and I’m hoping they will stick around even longer as my decant continues to settle. Although patchouli is listed in this, I am not really getting it at all. I can believe it’s there, but it is much quieter here than in any other of my oddly patchouli-heavy Luper decants. And throughout the wear I get hints of something that reminds me of lime? But it is very elusive and can’t really put my finger on what I’m smelling. This scratches the same greenish meditative itch for me as Plume of Incense, despite the lack of incense in this blend. LSPtWWUD is definitely fresher, more active, and more masculine if you care about that kind of thing; whereas Plume of Incense really toes the line between engagement and indolence. In any other release, both would be obvious full bottle buys for me, but this year’s lupers are so good that I will probably end up with only one.

This one is pretty linear and smooth, blended to feel like a singular substance (spice girls two become one vibes). Strongly masculine to me, this is definitely not a hetero love story. It even veers slightly in the department store direction of gay classics like Chanel Antaeus and (even more so) YSL Kouros. Usually BPAL’s more resolutely masculine blends turn me off, but Mars and Venus is so much subtler than, say, iago or the black rider. Nonetheless we find ourselves firmly in (genuinely) sexy boy soap territory, as the bathhouse art should already have signaled. Mars and Venus is a balance between warm and cold, rugged and smooth. We have here a delightfully easy amber accord paired with cool oakmoss, which gives a soapy impression when combined with what I believe is an ambrette-ish musk hidden in here. I sense a smidge of patchouli in the amber and maybe a whisper of subtly smoky vetiver in the green malachite side of things. Despite the warm amber, the moments of rugged patchouli and vetiver, the overall impression is smooth and cool, even slightly mineral. But the warm impression does give life to the scent, as if we are indeed presented with a fleeting moment preserved for eternity. Within the BPAL GC universe I am most reminded of Yorick, only here we have immortality instead of decay, integrity instead of dissolution. Still, both give the same sense of easy but slightly starched masculinity fit for the right queer. I have really been enjoying the couple of gaysploitation scents hiding in the seasonal collections this year and within that lens this is a lovely counterpoint to the equally ambery but more tortured and invert-coded A Cup of Tea in the Verandah. There is no yearning here, only confident fulfillment.

I read online that at the first tea ceremony of the year, “everyone attending dresses up and uses the most distinguished kimonos. However, the kimono patterns are kept faint so as not to steal attention away from the tea. On this day everyone attending dresses up and uses the most distinguished kimonos. However, the kimono patterns are kept faint so as not to steal attention away from the tea.” Now, look at those vivid garments in the art! The sex isn’t the only breach of etiquette here. Indeed, “The First Tea Cermony of the Year” is its own distraction from respectability. I was expecting a sensible pale, starchy, or perhaps grassy green scent. What I get is the equivalent of those garish garments: a deep, prismatic, strawberry accord. This is not a pink teenybopper strawberry candy, despite its dessert inspiration, but a deep, complex redness that I think is meant to convey the saturated silks that dominate the image. Other reviewers are identifying other possible red/fruity notes and I agree that it’s not a straightforward strawberry, but a kind of swirling and sparkling strawberry mirage. Still, dear reader, strawberry is my main impression. If I had to guess what else is here I might include plum—there is a glinting tartness that I very much associate with that fruit. The matcha is present and beautiful—nutty, fresh, and delicate, not harshly green and astringent—but it is very much not the center of attention. I don’t get the rice or bean notes, although the version of matcha here could easily be absorbing any pale, starchy impressions. I would never have ordered even a decant if the description said “strawberry,” but I am surprised how much I’m enjoying this. I will definitely be using up my decant and might even be upgrading to a bottle depending on how much I reach for it and how it settles. Starch-craving tea lovers, fear not! Couple Engaged in Intimate Acts as the Man Pours Tea could be for you, as long as you enjoy black tea and jasmine.

The opening is a flash of cherry, red red red! But soon a glint of plum joins the mix, and before long this is really a plum-dominated blend. Plum always seems to “glint” atop blends for me, and here it is joined by a very subtle (have no fear) chili pepper and the dry, splintery aspect of the sandalwood. As it settled, I had some issues with each of these notes, but now they give a pleasant, unified impression. This bright accord sits atop a creamy sandalwood-orris-tobacco base with floral champaca-orris trim. I like the bright heart of the scent and the fuzzy floral edges of the base, but the main creamy aspect of the base notes doesn’t really appeal to me. In the end Goose Moon is lovely, but somehow not very me despite the many notes I love. I think it’s just too smooth under that sharp glinting trio of plum/chili/sandalwood. I am more drawn to the rougher, slightly masculine tobacco absolute and cherry chypre duet from this release.

As advertised and yet unexpected. The cherry chypre dominates the opening, sweet, red, and juicy. Some might get cough medicine from this, but for me it is relatively bright and juicy for a cherry accord, with the chypre adding some shadowy depth. Gradually, the chypre elements gain hold and the scent acquires that “pinched” quality that certain vintage chypres possess (think miss Dior). The tobacco starts to come in. I was thinking this might be a big round pipe tobacco, which often has those cherry nuances. But actually, the composition is quite angular with the components remaining wonderfully distinct, and the tobacco is reminiscent more of snuff than pipe tobacco: dusty, almost “scratchy,” and bright. Although a lot of the words I’m using her might be used by others negatively, I’m relieved that this blend contains so much textural interest where it could just be flat and sweet. There’s something about this that reminds me of my first forays into BPAL (I’m reminded especially of GC Nosferatu), although it reads as recent BPAL in a good way, imo. This is a cozy, easy, perhaps somewhat masculine cherry blend that eschews sweetness to a surprising degree after that first blast of cherry. It’s not the kind of thing I usually go for, but I am quite enjoying my decant and may upgrade to a bottle. I’m excited to see how this wears in the late summer/early fall! Agree with sunshinedaisybliss that this is a pretty intimate scent, but given the way it conjures a suedelike, mossy and tobacco dusted “surface,” it feels appropriate that it should cling close to the skin. ETA— Layered with Goose Moon, the effect is quite tart. I noticed side by side that the cherry chypre reads juicier than the comparatively flat cherry top note of goose moon. I wonder if it has a touch of bergamot in the chypre structure producing that effect. In any case, the brighter cherry melds with the shining plum of Goose Moon to produce a much stronger juicy fruit impression than either do alone. The chypre texture is there as well, and the eventually it dries down to a dry woody tobacco—more velvety than scratchy.

Right out the gate I do get dragon’s blood, but then it turns into a very heady floral scent reminiscent of jasmine, lilac, and hedione. There is a kind of buttery resinous backing. No leather or smoke. This was a frimp and I never would have ordered based on the listed notes, but I am enjoying the experience. Others are saying dragon’s blood reads floral on them but not here; I’ve never had a floral experience with dragon’s blood EXCEPT with this blend. I’m wondering if it’s mislabeled or I’m just having a rly weird skin and nose chemistry experience of it—I’ll have to have some others smell it and see.

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.