ramblingrambler

Mmmm. I love this. I would want to pounce on anyone wearing it. It's a spicy, citrusy, fresh, clean fragrance that screams "lean in a little closer, baby." I don't even know what I'm smelling---I don't typically wear any of these notes, so it's hard for me to pull them apart---but they smell wonderful together. I grant that it's a little cologne/aftershave-y, but damn. I'm 'bout it, 'bout it. (That is, *I* wouldn't wear it, as I don't generally like to smell this way, but I would like someone flirting with me to wear it. ) Yum. This one goes to my partner for *me* .

"Apple pie in a rose garden" is dead on with this. On application, it's cooked (not crisp) apple filling with flakey, doughy almond crust, and sharpened with low, background floral. As it dries, the floral comes forward and appears as a rose, slightly wilted but still supple and fresh. About twenty minutes in and the lily of the valley appears, making it even softer, rounder, and less foodie (but the honey, apple, and fig never really disappear). It stays with me for about six hours and wafts about, sometimes more foodie, sometimes more floral, and sometimes just a pleasant melange of uninterrupted notes mingling together. Lovely.

Strangely, Mr. Jacquel reminds me of Nasty Woman. I slathered it, so it stayed wet for some time, and the wet stage smells exactly the same for both fragrances on my skin. In the imp and in the bottle, they smell fairly similar too. I wonder if it's the same patchouli I'm smelling. As Mr. Jacquel begins to dry, there's a higher note than what Nasty Woman offers, something slightly sweet and spicy. I'm intrigued. What is it? Hyssop? Embalming spices? Hmm. Whatever it is, I do like it, indeed. On dry down, the amber comes forward, and the patchouli is more tempered. Nasty Woman no longer compares; instead, it's another deep, "dark" fragrance I have, but I can't recall which of my (very, very) many. I'm left with a spicy, woody, earthy afterthought, close to the skin and intoxicating to the nose. I do love the dry down. In an earlier post, I said Mr. Nancy was my favorite of the Gaiman fragrances, but I have to eat my words. I think Mr. Jacquel is my favorite. Lovers of patchouli, or at least patchouli lovers with a similar skin chemistry, will dig this scent.

This. This is my favorite of the Gaiman fragrances, and ironically, I thought it would be one of my least favorites. Foodies are a hit or miss on me, and this was a definite hit. Mr. Nancy is a boozy, spice-cake dream. In imp, it's deep, sugary and buttery, perhaps caramel, which made me hesitant to apply. (This is why foodie scents often don't work: caramel makes me nauseated to no end!) I could smell nothing but sugar and butter. Wet, everything changes. Instantly the lime and the bay rum come out, and any tobacco (recently not a friend of mine) behaves itself. As it begins to dry, the butteriness fades slightly to allow for more spices and a prominent rum note. (Rum also seems hit or miss for me.) Dry down, it's all spice and vanilla. Mr. Nancy, please be my BFF.

I was so excited to get my decant, as this was the scent I thought would work for me most out of all sent in the circle. In fact, I ordered TWO imps from my lovely decanter. Unfortunately, this was the only fragrance that fell flat immediately upon application. I had hope though. I did! That hope did not meet a happy ending, sadly. I smell like a can of sweetened coconut creme, and coconut isn't even a listed note. (Coconut is, however, one of my amp-like-crazy death notes, so I am unsurprised if there *is* coconut in it somewhere to sweeten and relax it some.) In imp, it's soft and light and airy. It stays that way upon application, but the floating-harmoniously-together-unable-to-be-separated note achieved in imp dries down to a "whoa, this is just a fluffy cloud of unsweetened, milled coconut flakes." In the wet-to-almost-dry stage, it smells like sweetened coconut creme, with hints of vanilla (and maybe Dragon's Blood?) entering and exiting every few moments. It would be an excellent hot-weather scent, but it's a super no-go on my skin chemistry. This is a swap for me, but I'm glad it exists, because I know someone (many someones, evidenced by this thread!) will love it.

Oh. Mr. Ibis, you're so fresh, so light, so clean! I put this on and feel like a little kid---but I'm transported into a body not my own, and a life so full of joy at the open sky and sprawling earth begging to be adventured. I am sometimes this person, but my adult life has overtaken the exquisite youthfulness so present in this scent that I ache for days past. It's slightly nostalgic, in a Kierkegaardian way. Yes, wearing this, I feel like a boy on the cusp of puberty, probably torn between wanting to explore his sexuality and to explore the physical world that lies at his feet. And, simultaneously, I feel like an old man, looking back on his days past, wishing he hadn't wasted them on all the fanciful (and very wrong) ideas he had as a youth. In the bottle, it's soft and powdery, and on skin, it retains much of the same feel, but there's a masculinity to it that wouldn't fit a fully floral blend. I believe it might be the hint of... sandalwood?... mixed with musk that makes it lean this way. It's a sweet, soft pre-pubescent/pubescent boy fragrance---a deodorant, yes, indeed!---that says "I'm cautious but ready for the world." Beautiful. Just beautiful. I'm giving this to my partner to see if he likes it, as it may be too soft for me. I think in his more introverted and singular moments, he would be taken with this future-nostalgia the fragrance elicits.

Mama-Ji is an abundance of spice and flowers, predominantly cardamom and nutmeg, with a background of some sort of wood---perhaps a drop of frankincense(?) although not a listed note. I'm detaching myself from any sort of characterization put forth by Gaiman and instead closing my eyes to let my imagination wander and envisioning a woman of some Asian descent holding a bouquet of wild flowers, dusky-gold and slightly wilting, but so, so full of sunshine in their chlorophyll. She is aged, at least sixty, with a warm smile and "wise" (read: wrinkled) face, crows feet around the eyes, and still ready to put down if you give her hell. This scent is warm and dry, and it's absolutely fantastic divorced from my skin. (That is to say, I don't fit the intended demographic my brain concocted, but I don't see why you would not!)

Oh, this is absolutely lovely, and if I wore this type of fragrance, I would keep this bottle and never let it go. I want to smell it all the time though, so I'm tempted to keep it as a fragrance for my aromatherapy diffuser. I'm reviewing a very aged 2008 blend, by the way. In the bottle, it's intense copal. All I can smell is a cloud of copal ready to engulf my senses. While I love copal, it doesn't usually work for me, and this immediately tips me off that on my skin, it's not going to smell very good. Wet on skin, it retains the same copal-dominant aroma, though there's a hefty mix of tobacco for me. I tend to amp tobacco, so I'm not sure if it's the chemical reaction already happening, or if there's loads of tobacco in my blend. It might have intensified in aging, as well. About five minutes into drydown, the tobacco has receded and left the copal to bloom. It's quite heady; fragrant and superior in quality, this is a copal my incense burner would love to house for my pleasure. As it continues to dry, woods comes forward and opens to a slight spice (mostly on deep inhale). Beginning its disappearing act, Michtecacihuatl drifts away in a sea of spice and powder. Gorgeous all around, but a RamblingRambler does not smell like this (in a plantonic way: intellectually, spiritually, essentially ), despite it being so incredibly pleasurable to her nose.

Typically my reviews tend to be on the longer side, but this will be short and sweet. In bottle, on skin, and all the way through dry down I get one of those sugar-coated lemon candies! Sugared, not cloying, and delicious! No morphing, and pretty linear, this scent is a yes yes yes (and nom nom nom!) from me! It's my last day of spring break, so this was a dead-on way to celebrate a beautiful last hurrah picnic (with lemon cookies, slightly reminiscent of this scent!) in the breeze woth a setting sun.

I hadn't contemplated tea scents until I started thinking about what makes me love Dorian, and although Beth made *that* a magical blend unto itself, I thought perhaps I would try each listed note to see how they worked alone or in combination with other notes on my skin. (Un?)Fortunately, as I don't know which of the three teas she used, I had to try anything with tea listed. I've tried several tea-based fragrances to this point, some working while others not, and am making my way through the tea catalogue now that I've developed my palate a little more when it comes to these glorious little leaves. Of all tea-dominant blends I've tried so far (aside from Dorian, of course), Tea and Music is my favorite. In the bottle it's all tea and leather. It maintains the same platonic ideals (very Tea-y and very Leather-y) throughout its wear on skin, but they're rather strong mingled together and waiting to be released from captivity. Wet on skin, it's the same strength tea, but leather amps to nth degree. It appears to be leather-dominant at this point and stays this way for the first twenty minutes until completely dry, at which point tea is equal or greater than leather again. Around thirty minutes, another warm note begins to peek out, but I can't tell what it is (I'm reviewing without looking at notes ). It grows gradually as the leather morphs into an older, worn leather scent, perhaps akin to Ian's. That, or this new blossoming note could be tricking my nose to think I'm smelling some Ian in there. Two hours in and I adore it. Everything is balanced, warm, and cozy. I feel like I've settled in with a good book at a tea house after having just finished a conversation with a musician who was on for the open mic. To me, this is a yellow-brown, cream colored scent, though there's no cream in here (I don't think—cream hates me). As the base notes come out upon late drydown, it becomes both sharp and soft—the scent is both feminine and masculine to me in the way Dorian can read... This is slightly powdery but with a bite. It's, how do the kids say?, edgy. The leather stays put and... There's a slight green note here, probably what is making it seem sharp, different from the original tea note (perhaps the same note but has gone wonky on me?). The powder is more dominant on me. Like I said though, I could definitely see a man wearing this too, as I think the sharp note might be read as more developed then. As it fades away to nothing, it remains this same greeny, powdery, leathery scent, just proportionately less and less. Overall, I really like this fragrance. (Having written the review, I went back to review listed notes, and the warmth I was smelling must have been the chocolate truffle. It doesn't smell like the lab's usual chocolate note on me. This has more of a vanilla base with some amber mixed in to my nose. If chocolate truffle, it's a chocolate with a heavy dose of vanilla extract ).

I have two bottles of Perversion, one from many years ago (not sure when I got it) and one from October 2016. Comparing them, I prefer the older, much aged fragrance to the newer, five-month old fragrance. The older bottle is deeper, richer, and more... perverted--in a good way!... somehow, both in bottle and on skin. Its leather has come out more than the newer bottle, which to me is all tobacco and rum, and, (unfortunately,) reminds me of my grandfather, a chain-smoking, alcoholic pervert (yuck). I suppose the name is apt, if nothing else, for both bottles, though for completely different reasons. I'm hoping my newer bottle will age as well as my old bottle, whose notes are more sophisticated and complex, although mostly linear on both accounts. Old batch: In bottle: tobacco; tonka Wet on skin: tonka, tobacco, rum. Although I'm sure I owe some of the sweetness to rum, tonka and tobacco dominate through hour four. After the rum and tonka begin to die away, I smell some of the leather, I think, but it's barely there and extremely hard to place. Through hour six, it's a round scent, and I feel like I'm spinning circles on the dance floor wearing it. Drydown: Soft pipe tobacco. Fades to nothing after about eight hours of wear. New batch: In bottle: tobacco Wet on skin: tobacco and rum... maybe some tonka, but it amps the sweet factor. I feel like there's a spicy clove note, but it's very faint, and it's unlisted if it's there. Maybe it's a spiced rum absolute they're using? Not sure. Anyway: Perversion is fairly linear with no morph through hour six. I could take or leave this bottle---the tobacco is slightly cloying in the way a fresh batch of pipe tobacco strikes the nose. Nothing tempers its sweetness nor adds complexity in the way the older bottle has some layers. I smell like an old man, confirmed by one of my students saying "It smells like my pop pop in here!" There you have it: I'm not the only one reminded of my grandfather. (Hopefully they're not all dirty old men though!) Drydown: tobacco. Hasn't changed much at all. Rum might have faded away, as I no longer smell the spice. There's maybe a little tonka left, but still, it adds to the sweetness. It's full force, the tobacco, until it literally disappears in a very binary 1/0 way. It's there and then it's gone. Take away? I prefer a much more aged bottle of Perversion, but I'm not holding on to my new bottle long enough to see how it develops further. I'm chucking it into my GC swap box!

The first of the Lupers I received, Flickering Lantern is a soft, delicate, low-throw, low-sillage scent that stays close to the body and smells the way rubbing old, well-loved velvet feels to me: it is all softness and fuzz. Each sniff transports me to a dusky scene somewhere in the far East, hurrying along a river through humid heat as I yearn to press myself against my lover's skin in a cozy hut. Though this fragrance is beautiful, when I wore it, I felt it was not for me, as I tend to wear stronger scents, but when my partner came close to whisper an "I love you," it was, instead, "You smell incredible" with big eyes and lots of small kisses along my neck. This is a truly magnificent work of art, and so aptly named. In the bottle: beeswax and rose. Wet on skin: calm beeswax and old pipe tobacco. Five minutes in, tobacco intensifies, and at the fifteen minute mark, rose comes out to temper any masculine-leaning tilt. Drydown: soft, soft, soft beeswax and rose. Glorious. I love the way this smells, but I feel extremely fertile and feminine while wearing this; perhaps this is why I stay away from these scents for the most part. This is a keeper for me, but only because my partner seems to like the fertile femininity it imparts.