yewberry

Folks we have a winner! The scrummy coconut of Brown Jenkin, with fruity currant close behind. The vetiver adds an edge Brown Jenkin lacked without overpowering the blend. It's wonderful in this supporting role. Excellent staying power (on me) and nice medium throw. ETA: Does anyone know the correct spelling of the name? My bottle reads "Fuwa", not "Fuwu"...

There's nothing about the individual elements I don't normally like (with the exception of bodark bark, which I've never smelled). Sadly, my body chem seems to want to turn this into a weird conglomeration of black pepper and bread-and-butter pickles. Tragic... ETA: Settles down into a mediocre men's cologne-y affair. Meh. But at least the pickles are gone.

Very, very like Lightning on my skin. Ozone amps on my skin something fierce, in a good way. Definitely in there somewhere.

My very first prototype, but sadly not for me. Super gardenia kapow at all stages. If there are peaches, they make no appearance on my skin.

Goes on soapy and stays that way. Geranium and I do not play well.

Papaya, blueberry, lemongrass, and gin. PEZ!!! Mellowing down into a resinous (juniperus, specifically) fruitiness. Truly evocative of a gin-soaked fruity cocktail. Youthful and fun with a twist of boozy maturity. Yum.

Okay. I'm shallow. I hoped this would work on me just so when people asked "What's that ambrosial fragrance you're wearing?" I could say "Oh, that's Men Ringing Bell with Penises". That's not to say the description doesn't intrigue. Tea, green sandalwood, moss...and it really is as beautiful, light, and complex as it sounds. The result is at once unisex and cleanly masculine. Really, really delightful, but not, in the end, my cuppa sandalwood tea. I look forward to giving it to a friend of mine just to see the look on her face, however.

Anything with awapuhi smells like high-end salon shampoo. This is no exception. A bright, clean, soapy scent, but not really something I'd wear.

The scene: A garden terrace in an up-scale vegetarian restaurant A gal named BPAL hopes to make a love connection between two old friends... BPAL: I'm so glad you two could make it! Nosferatu, meet The Apothecary. A-poth, meet Nossy. I'll just leave you kids to it! <exits> Nosferatu: <demurely extending a hand> Nice to meet you. The Apothecary: <taking hand and smooching it wetly> Hey, baby. I took the liberty of ordering for both of us. Parsley juleps to start. Drink up and let's party! N: <sipping> Wow...these are...interesting. TA: Ain't they, though? Used to shotgun these puppies back in the frat. This one time I got so wasted... N: <interrupting> So tell me about yourself. TA: Didn't BPAL tell you? I'm all about the green, ya know? And I'm really into my BODY. You get me? N: Not really, no... TA: You know, like, bigger is better. I'm loud and proud and stuff! Seriously, check out these pecs. <flexes> N: That's, lovely. But I'm more interested in being down-to-earth. I like gardening... TA: Whoa, like, me too! Like going into someone's garden and just beating the hell out the pumpkins? N: <withering> Actually, I just like the feel of soil between my fingers...and the smell... TA: You know what would be great between your fingers? N: Listen...you're coming on a little strong... TA: So ya wanna take a shower? N: No, you already smell enough like soap. I'm outta here!

Oh, but it sounded so right for me. Lovely herbal/woody in the Imp. Sandalwood bug dip on my skin.

I'm getting a sort of Phantom-Calliope-without-the-spices-or-patchouli thing. I might need to slather this for full effect, but now it's kind of a muted, tasty neck-nuzzler. Very pretty. After slather: Elizabeth Arden's "Sunflowers". Nice (and extremely well-made), but too perfumey for me.

Interesting, sharp apiaceae up front, wilting into a floral similar to Ichabod Crane without the warming, anchoring beeswax. Very nice, but too floral for me.

Okay, I'm crazy about the Lab's beeswax. I'm even in love with Ichabod Crane, despite the heaps of florals that usually send me running. Hanerot Halalu, after its initial wet stage (definitely get the orangey note people have mentioned) mellows on me to pure beeswax on me. I make my own beeswax candles, and the dry-down smells hauntingly like standing over a vat of hot wax, dipping tapers. Such an evocative blend.

Exactly as advertised. Dirt, cedar, and a hint of spicy galangal. Weird and earthy and spicy. Exactly the kind of "not-perfume" I love. Alas, it doesn't last long, but oh, it's delicious while it does.

Oh, I do wish I had ordered at least a decant of this, but I'm writing this review based on one little smear from an otherwise empty bottle. Wonderfully bitter spices with warm, exotic/penetrating cypress. The mandarin is there at the beginning, then fades into soft myrrh. A really delightful fragrance that's going on my wish list immediately.

In the vial: pure spicy, foodie, "p'kin pie". Wet: almost instantly begins to morph into some thing rich, deep, and delicious. The spices (esp. the cardamom) roll around nekkid with the amber, neither truly succumbing to the other. The foodieness is tempered by the amber's perfumeyness, and vice versa. Fading: all luscious amber. A really gorgeous scent that (surprisingly) never goes "craft store" on me! Needs me a bottle o' this...

Groping for sandalwood and finding only (ACK!) lily. Very pretty, very skillfully-blended, and very much not for me.

All of the notes sounded right (I love, love, love, BPAL's dirt)...but it was so very wrong. Smells nauseatingly like burning plastic on me. There's not enough soap in the world to wash this off.

I have a beekeeper friend whose house always smells of dried roses and beeswax. That's what Mictecacihuatl smells like on me. Most rose scents seem to overpower (no matter the other notes in the blend). But like Ichabod Crane, this floral-forward blend is solidly anchored in dense warmth and sweetness. In the end it goes a little "rose soap" on me, but somehow I can't stop smelling myself anyway!

As a gal who spends a decent percentage of her life with her nose near malted barley, I can say pretty unequivocally that there's no actual barley malt essence herein. There is, however, a most charming quasi-emulation. There's a rich, almost buttery quality to this oil. Like a distant caramel and vanilla (sweetgrass? woodruff?). Over that is the "alcohol", which, again, doesn't smell much like whiskey. It does coat your nasal passages like huffing a leggy tawny port, though. Then comes warm musk and a hint of rusty nail. After a while the vanilla and something traditionally "perfumey" dominates, but the wet and just-dry stages are really delicious. I can see why folks note a masculine quality. Fortunately, my hubby doesn't like men's colognes, so this one's all mine. Light throw (I like to wear it on my neck, for nuzzling), relatively short wear length (on me, anyway).

Pure grassy goodness, straight-out-of-the-mower-bag fresh. Goes a little ozoney on the dry down (rain's a-comin'). I'm having fun layering this with Graveyard Dirt. One micro-drop of GD to a decent slathering of ABoG smells eerily like when I hit a mole hill with the mower! Beltane, here I come!

DCCCV (805): Got this as a surprise decant from a generous forumite. In the imp, a sharp, soapy sweetness that was, to my nose, surprisingly nondescript. As soon as it touched my skin, though, it erupted into a burst of cardamom and juicy fruitiness with maybe just a tiny touch of cinnamon. Its only drawback is that it doesn't last long enough (but BPAL's cardamom note never does). Amazingly delicious, though I really have to slather it to get any throw.

BPAL's dirt scent, pure and simple. Can't wait to layer it, and wear it ritually in the spring when I consecrate my garden.

I'm so excited to find a floral with enough depth to keep me sniffing. The lily of the valley is tempered by something sweet and nutty (beeswax?) and sharpened by pepper. I may have finally found a floral that will work for Beltane!

To say I love Phantom Calliope is an understatement. It's far and away my favorite of the CD scents. But alas, it's not to be. I've heard of people getting instant rashes from fragrances, but despite my sensitive skin, it's never happened to me...until now. Last night I slathered on some PC and headed out the door to a friend's house, but was stopped by my hubby, looking worried. "Your neck is a most unhealthy color", he noted. Sure enough, I had developed an ugly (although, interestingly, painless and non-itchy) rash. I looked at my wrists and inner elbow, where I'd also applied a dab. Similar blooms forming. CRAP. No idea what ingredient or combination of ingredients caused this, but I'm afraid this amazing, complex, and delightful fragrance is relegated to the domain of room fragrance. I'm too nervous even to wear it near my skin (scent locket, etc.). For what it's worth, my rashy skin smelled of cherry cola (that "soda pop" note I love so much in Nephilim--thank you cardamom) whilst wet, and dried down to a warm patchouli-spice with hints of lemony freshness and just the lightest touch of red, ripe fruit.