Lisa Ing

I really like this one. It's very close to Chamber of Content from the 2016 Phoenixes, minus the juicy apple and plus the ginger blossom/tea, and I think it's much better. The honey and carnation have a lot more space to breathe, presenting a peppery/spicy floral tea that's sweet but not too sweet. Honey is strong on application but softens a lot when dry. It's a light, pale golden scent, like an effervescent craft ginger ale with a good bit of bite.

Like a very nutty dark chocolate fudge brownie, sort of buttery and not very sweet. The sandalwood + nutmeg combination doesn't smell spicy but more woody/nutty. It's a very dark, dark brown scent, not aggressive but definitely long-lasting.

Exactly like an invisible, intangible grande mochaccino with fresh cinnamon dusted onto the foam.

Frimp from the Lab, and an unexpected favorite. It goes on with a big white floral bang but settles down quickly to a two-layer scent. Right down near the skin is this deep purple fruit (a thick, jammy sweet with a little sourness -- I'm thinking fig and plum mostly) mixed in with the white flowers, and then there's a floating cloud of light violet and elegant, sensual incense. Whatever that incense is, man, I want more of it. I don't think I saw this in any other review, but I'm pretty sure there's a good amount of fig in the purple fruit blend here because it reminds me of Eden.

I really really love this scent, and aging it for six months has really helped the cardamom and leather notes pop on application. I smell a light smokiness now that wasn't there before, but it's still a wonderfully light, gentle scent. It's like being a kid hiding in your aunt's coat closet, face pushed in between woolly cashmere sweaters and a sheepskin-collared leather jacket that still smells faintly of her cardamom goat's milk lotion, lanolin, and skin musk. The only downside is that it fades so quickly -- I like soft skin scents, and I never feel the need to slather anything but Unicorn and Ram.

Fresh from the Lab this was all GREEN APPLE with a little bit of honey and a tiny bit of vegetable musk. I didn't get any carnation at all, and the apple-honey blend was pretty flat in comparison to the honey note in Mead Moon. It took about two months of aging for the carnation and ambrette to come out and balance this blend properly, or for the juicy apple to chill out a little -- it's quite good now on the retest. The carnation smells a little bit peppery and the vegetarian musk is really pretty. I layered with a little bit of Australian Sandalwood SN this morning -- that's a great combo, like the best apple tree in the world.

Half-Elf + Druid = A glorious hunting lodge in the wild woods: polished wood, incense, wool and living forest. Something in Druid takes the annoying Pine-sol note in Half-Elf and calms it down completely; the combination of the two is delicious. (+Iago) = I add the tiniest touch of Iago (vetiver, leather, black musk) to add a swirling depth. Chaotic + Orc + Bard = This is so good and unexpected. Orc helps ground the heliotrope in Chaotic with vetiver and leather, and both of their eccentric natural flavors (wasabi, rooibos, zucchini, peanut) give Bard's congenial sweet bay rum/smoky vanilla an unexpected depth and complexity. The multicolored musks + courgette musk + white musk end up so sexy, badass and sophisticated together. Rogue + Whip = Swinging around with a rose in his teeth, man. 'Nuff said.

Afternoon tea with cello accompaniment at your distant cousin's hunting lodge. It would be absolutely perfect here, but the cleaning staff is very aggressive with the Pine-sol.

Your friend, the hot mess: sweet, high-flying floral heliotrope with a different random-yet-temporary obsession each time you meet. Authentic backyard wasabi growing -- did you know that the stuff in American sushi restaurants is just DYED HORSERADISH? Artisanal Rooibos teabags (full of twigs that make dirt-flavored tea). Natural mastic stick-on moustaches. A different fashion trend and favorite color each time: chartreuse! hats! furs! gold! bringing lycra back! There's no one else like her -- so easy to love. So true to herself. Such a headache in large doses.

Sweaty cowgirl wrestles a runaway pony inside an air-conditioned spice shop. There's a really funky animalic note to this HG that I love, but that I was initially wary of -- it smells like scalp grease from unwashed hair, mixed with oiled leather and sweat, especially if I get it on my skin. After the initial spray, the animal funk combo (leather, amber, tonka) eventually fades down underneath the spices. Something (maybe clove? star anise?) smells chilly, and the others remind me of dry chai or pho mix. It's really not sweet at all - no honey or sugar added, and the vanillic hit from tonka and fruity undertones of myrrh are pretty understated next to all of the dry bitter cacao nibs, clove, star anise and cinnamon stick.

Looking over a smoke-darkened and aging painting of a martyred saint in a dark church for the thousandth time, counting the minutes until freedom and fresh air. A heavy and oppressive cloud of frankincense, funeral flowers and the smoke of votive candles.

A bright and sassy gender-neutral blend of pine rosin with a bit of leather and rope... for a subtle and charming rogue capable of fitting in anywhere and coming out on top. This is the scent that introduced me to BPAL, and the one that convinced me that perfumes didn't have to be hyperfloral femme fruity vanillas or aggressively masculine fresh aquatic citrus or even alcohol-based at all -- it opened up my world and I'm so glad that it did. It's distinct and unusual, without being overwhelming, and I think it would be a great introduction to indies for people who don't think they like perfume. It is also great layered with Whip, doubling up on the leather and melding red rose with the freshness of the hemp/pine.

Courtesy of grandpa: an entire summer break's worth of Werther's Originals butterscotch and coffee-caramel swirl candies eaten in one day. Strong butterscotch, and then something riding under the butterscotch that smells slightly bitter, spicier, darker - like gingerbread or chicory or coffee. I find it very similar to the Dark Pumpkin Mead 2008 Halloweenie (except lighter and smoother, not burnt like DPM).

This smells so pretty and ethereal in the imp, but on my skin all I smell is overwhelmingly sweet floral lily and berries.

Rank vinegar with medicinal overtones that shifts quickly into a wet stone, soot and leather combo that sticks close to the skin, with a gentle and long-lasting floral cloud that must be hops hovering over it. Surprisingly charming.

Factory-wrapped chewy oatmeal cookies from the grocery store. You ate the entire pack in one sitting.

You went to the farmer's market with your own leather-strapped canvas tote to pick up fair-trade peanuts, kale and zucchini.

This is the only scent where my husband has ever, completely unprompted, said "What is that? You smell good." We both kind of flipped out over this scent, which really does smell like dust and moths in an oddly enchanting way. It's the first really cold fall night in the Northeast, in a brick building a couple centuries old with steam heat and a boiler in the basement, when the radiator coils first start clanking to life because the landlord decided it was finally time to run central heating. There are pale gray moths outside the window, circling the light, and the radiator starts to heat the dust touching the metal. This is that smell: the detritus remaining of spring pollen, summer flowers and beach salt, fall earth and leaves, your own shed skin -- a whole year's worth of living all heated up together on the radiator and rising into your apartment. It's cool, faintly floral, faintly earthy dust and soot that gets warmer, dustier, and more comforting, and it lingers for days. Radiator dust.