Casablanca

Chestnut and mahogany with black coconut, vanilla, and a drop of tobacco absolute. Oo, woody black coconut and vanilla! The image accompanying this blend for me is a wooden beach house I stayed in with some friends in Costa Rica, but with a stray wisp of moist tobacco smoke added in. The black coconut and vanilla blend well together, as do the nutty woods, with a pinch of lush tobacco alongside. Quite like this one.

Strawberries that in gardens grow Are plump and juicy fine, But sweeter far as wise men know Spring from the woodland vine. No need for bowl or silver spoon, Sugar or spice or cream, Has the wild berry plucked in June Beside the trickling stream. One such to melt at the tongue's root, Confounding taste with scent, Beats a full peck of garden fruit: Which points my argument. May sudden justice overtake And snap the froward pen, That old and palsied poets shake Against the minds of men. Blasphemers trusting to hold caught In far-flung webs of ink, The utmost ends of human thought Till nothing's left to think. But may the gift of heavenly peace And glory for all time Keep the boy Tom who tending geese First made the nursery rhyme. - Robert Graves Wild strawberries, strawberry flower, vanilla-infused sugar, early summer grasses, purple coneflower, white sage, and milky dandelion sap. Im mostly comparing this to a well-loved bottle of Strawberry Moon v5. SM v5 smells like deeply red strawberries and sunny dandelion meadow to me, while SM 2017 smells to me like pinkish-red, sugared strawberries and milky dandelions. The strawberry mood of 2017 almost reminds me more of Diligent Instruction for the Bridal Night than of SM v5, with that youthful sugared quality, but with an outdoorsy meadow vibe replacing Diligents fluffy mallow pillows. Mostly, this is sugared pinkish strawberries and meadow on me. The meadow here is like a soft wildflower background, with dandelions and a little texture that reminds me of chamomile. Grasses color things a bit but dont stand out on their own. The sage mostly hides, but now and then I get a little pale coolness. I love both versions of SM; this one feels more youthful than SM v5.

Mimosa, blue musk, cucumber, blackcurrant bud, and sweet almond blossom. I had thought: This one is weird, and I don't know how these notes will work together, but there aren't many non-chocolate bath oils for the Lupers, so let's try it. Maybe it will make sense when I smell it. In the bottle, it just smells bad. Disjointed, nothing going together. It took a while for me to try it on. On my skin, it's a wet-green cucumber with lightly warm-toned flowers and some black currant. Yup, it's weird. The notes feel pretty random to me. Once it dries it settles down into... I guess sort of a watery-green spa skin scent. There's a little floral left but the currants don't hang, which is for the best because it reduces the noise. It's OK at this phase. I'll keep this since I like the bath oils, but it's not what I'd hoped for.

I was going to skip this one, changed my mind based on reviews, and am glad. Fresh on my skin, Shadow is a sleek blend of clove-spiced, ambery, woody bay rum over a dark cologne musk. More often than not, I don’t like cologne musk smells — but I like it here. That part starts on the strong side, but mellows quickly into a contributing dark smoothness. The spiced bay rum is exotic and, in this blend, somehow comforting; the oudh is a nice woody oudh without the fecal tones I got from Bestla and Nevertheless, She Persisted. As a bonus, this isn’t like anything else I have. I like it.

From the bottle, I get a light bergamot-sweet orange floral impression, but once Media meets my skin, she’s mostly flowers. She becomes a floral and white musk perfume, commercial in vibe, and her citrus flits away. Like Sprout, I seem to mostly get honeysuckles and lilies for the floral. A little soapiness develops on me, such as what I tend to get from wearing lily of the valley, but it never takes over. Likewise, a little white-musk powdery quality comes in, but without going crazy. The blend is on the faint side and fades quickly on me. I hope it comes more into its own with additional settling, so it can shine in its proper vapid glory.

A citrus and white musk perfumey perfume. The fruit comes across on me like a clean, clear, watery, lemony grapefruit. As the blend progresses toward its heart, I think I smell a little of the orange lollipops thing neroli does on me. It smells commercial, but I get the desired shimmery metal from it when I slather it.

In the bottle, Buck Moon smells – conceptually, if not literally – like an early summer evening in woods with soft, sappy pine and a mix of herbal greenery. Initially on my skin, it’s similar, except that everything comes out more. I get a very soft, sappy pine, green herbs, and a cool lunar note. Moonflower? It seems like that pale coolness, but not quite floral. Sometimes I think I pick up a little mugwort in the herbs. Everything is soft and well-blended, hard to pin down individually. As the blend dries, I start to catch whiffs of musk – it smells to me like a neutral skin musk with just a tint of brown musk. Lovely now, and I look forward to seeing how it settles in a few months.

Sniffing the bottle: oo, snuggly musky spicy woody kitty! First on, this reminds me of Coyote and Faunalia, and a little of Buffalo Man. It’s the brown musk, not as heavy as in Buffalo Man, and super-fuzzied, more comforting. The cardamom-spiced vanilla cedar is right there, too, rounding out the blend with a cozy, hearth-like mood. It’s like a fuzzy pet basking by the fire in a wood cabin. I’m probably maxed on brown musk animal scents at this point, but wouldn’t want to let go of the ones I have. They’re all different and have their own uses.

First up on my skin, I get a sweet honeyed mead with a little carbonation. Alongside that, unexpectedly, is a lotta yellow-orange fruitiness: something like nectarine (or maybe peach) and mango. The mango-ish part reminds me of the yellow-orange fruity note from The Glimmer of Northern Lights – that recent Yule with the yellow arctic poppies. The sparkling honeyed mead fades quickly, leaving mainly the fruit for most of the blend’s life on my skin. I never quite pick out any wood. I wish I did: it would help balance the sweetness. I like this scent, but it’s fruitier than what I was looking for.

A lovely dry, golden saffron dominates this scent throughout its life on my skin. Secondarily, there's a blend of ambery honeyed wood, with a little orange blossom showing up now and then. I'd been concerned that the neroli would take over and smell like orange lollipops, as it often likes to do on me, but I don't always smell it, and when I do, it's mild. Overall, the blend smells dry and golden, like August. This is the mood of scent I'd hoped for from the aged Sportive Sun I got from the Lab's Etsy, but that had been kind of flat. A friend said hers had also aged past its prime. The Sun's Treasure strikes gold.

On the wand, I smell apples, but with a fresh, brisk chilliness, flowers, and a little wood. A quite sweet, almost candy-like alpine or subarctic spring. On my skin, this is similar, but even sweeter, and less chilly. It’s like a yellow apple sugar syrup. I can see the similarity between this apple note and that in Golden Apple of the Sun. I really love the white wood note in this – I wish there were more of it to tone down the sweetness, which is considerable. Nice throw, though. I want a different balance, and Sjofn comes closer to that once dried: the birch comes out a little more. But for me it doesn’t come out enough to balance the sweetness of the rest. I would probably bottle this if it were more wood and less sweetness. As it is, it’s too apple syrupy-sweet for me.

On the wand, I smell airy, clean aquatic flowers. On my skin, though, this is initially a musky, aquatic gardenia with a nip of ginger. At the first application, this borders on cloying, but it settles within a minute into an airy, aquatic floral with a little ginger warmth to keep it interesting. It smells subtropical – lighter than a steamy-green jungle blend, and more like a hidden, flowered pool on a Hawaiian vacation. The Lady drops to nearly zero throw on my skin even before she dries, and she fades to a more generic aquatic floral before winking out completely. She was lovely at first, though.

I use this as a moisturizer. I think it smells pretty dreamy -- like coconut-creamsicle clouds. Lovely warm-weather scent.

Moonflower and iris root with French lavender, tuberose, white sandalwood, night-blooming gardenia, vanilla orchid, and moss. In the bottle, there’s a lovely lunar lavender, and some tuberose. On my skin, I get moon-dappled lavender, just a little tuberose, other background flowers, and a light sandalwood. This lavender is dreamy, with light green and herbal tones, but not sharp. There’s also a ghostly vanilla hint, which is combining with this particular lavender to remind me more of Solstice Scents’ Lavender Vanilla than of any other BPAL I’ve tried. But LV has more vanilla, and Lullaby simply has more going on for me during the wet phase. My friend really amped the tuberose in this, but it stays mild on me. After this dries, I get a little moss coming out. It’s mild and pretty, but faint. The flowers subside, also, into faintness. Soon after it dries, Lullaby mostly disappears on me. The song has ended.

Nostalgia encapsulated. A soft, wistful blend of dry flowers, aged linens, and the faint breath of long-faded perfumes. The lovely dominant vanilla in this blend is what I usually want a vanilla to smell like in a perfume — this is how vanilla smells in my hopes and imaginings. Secondarily, I get musk, and also linen, browned with age and faintly musty. I don’t pick out flowers. This is well-blended, and will be one of my favorites.

Sugar, honey, and rose, and a sort of autumnal apple tone. This reminds me of the honeyed apple-rose musk of Bilquis, but less bright and youthful on my skin than she was. I smell caramelization in the sugar, which is lending some maturity. I feel like there might be more than one sort of sugar in play here, or maybe sugar and a sugar-crunchy honey. I love Bilquis as she is, but I think this is more of what I was looking for when I picked up Bilquis. Lovely stuff.

I'm also wearing Cave of Treasures today and freshly reminded of how much I like it.

On the wand, I smell lemon and apple, with rose trailing some distance behind. On my skin, lemon dominates this bright, citrusy apple-rose. Starts out on me as fresh-out-of-the-shower playful. Then the apple disappears and my skin turns it to citrus rose soap. Bummer.

No idea how old this imp of discontinued scent is. On the wand, I get vetiver musk and general darkness. I think I catch a side of tamarind. On my skin, the oil is a ghoulish olive green and makes me think of Weenies. Mostly, I get a dark and green-smelling vetiver. I think of something like Troll, but more medicinal, and just a little fruity-sweet from the tamarind.

On the wand, this is lily and wisteria, with a light-handed graininess from sandalwood and frankincense. On my skin, calla lily! And a little wisteria. This goes kind of high-pitched and thin-smelling on me. I expected the calla lily to go to soap on me, and it doesn’t. But it’s not a full-bodied, exciting blend on my skin, either.

I love the different notes I see in the list. Mountain avens? Wonderful. On the wand, I get tart, dry berries in a powdery and fresh floral. Almost laundry-like. On my skin, the berries dominate. They seem less tart, but just as dry as on the wand. This blend definitely gives a cool, powdery meadow impression on me. I don’t pick out any specific flower, other than a breath of roses when I look for it. Unfortunately, this is too powdery on my skin.

On the wand, oh, gosh. Lemon, flowers, and pee? Is that an indolic jasmine doing that? I have never smelled pee in jasmine before. I always just read about that reaction. So this is my first time! I try another sniff – yes, there’s something toilet about this. On my skin, though, it's mostly lemon jasmine. Only slightly indolic now – I barely notice it. I get purpled whiffs of violet and wisteria, and a blended undercurrent of other notes, but lemon jasmine is strongest. As it begins to settle, the whole blend goes quite soft on me.

On the wand, sweet and heavy violet and rose. A little powdery, a little candy-like. It’s like an overwhelming powder room floral. On my skin, it’s much, much lighter. Still sweet. Leans toward soap, but isn’t exactly that on me. On me it goes thin, and closer to violet dishwater? Marie also just happens to be the sort of floral that makes me think I don’t like florals as a whole, which isn’t true. This one isn’t for me.

On the wand, this smells just like its description. Hot wind rustling sun-scorched hay and brittle, dead grasses. The blend sits on the edge of smelling burnt. The magnifying glass has directed the sun at dried hay: it’s browning, starting to smoke, and is about to catch flame. On my skin… Well, it’s not a pretty scent. No happy spring floral here. It smells like a Rubbermaid box of car exhaust.

Bottled gloom; the essence of oblivion. Blackest opium and narcissus deepened by myrrh. On the wand, I get the freshly blown-out candle impression other reviewers mention. On my skin, initially, this is a cloyingly sweet bloom (seemingly darkened with a faint lemony black musk?) and an incense opium. It’s mostly too sweet on my skin for the candle impression now, but every now and then, that smoky image turns up again. Once this dries, most of its notes disappear on me. What remains smells like a basement that might have a leak somewhere, but it’s faint and I can’t find it.