norsowideasachurchdoor

What are the scent notes that stand out to you about it--the ones that jump out at first, and the ones that stick around so nicely?

I'd agree with a couple posts in the attached thread below about Zombi (spooky rose), Plunder (spiced tea), and Black Annis (witchy oak)! Hopefully you can find some more good ideas within:

At first: cardamom bursts forth like an aromatic jackfruit. But then: the spice beckons you deeper into its market stall. After time: the memory of that resin-breathed afternoon lingers on. In comparison: This is the Christmas cousin of The Curtain of the Temple was Torn in Two, the BPAL who hooked me and after whose relatives I’ve long sought. To conclude: if you tried the above great American eclipse blend a few years back and actually liked it, or have been searching fruitlessly for a spiced amber without unsettling food vibes, give this one a whirl. Wear this: to peaceably settle an old grievance over a pot of tea.

No one's come to your aid, touting their favorite Black Phoenix bath oils? Myself such a neophyte to the medium, I can only direct you to the excellent conversations and recommendations on the relevant thread!

Tlazolteotl presents probably even darker a scent than what you have, from my experience of the GC: Excolo blend, but the floral/chocolate combination you describe reminded me of its notes: chapapote and black copal with cacao, black honey, maize, and cotton blossoms.

I don't know the blend personally; what notes stand out to you? (Original description: Marshmallow mint and a drop of lemon sugar.)

Zombi tends to evoke strong opinions, so I think everyone should try it to find out where they land. To me, the earth and lichen notes deepen the dried roses into a nostalgic memory. To some others, the scent arouses acute melancholy. Plunder is my runner-up, right now, because the tea-and-spices blend is perfect for the upcoming season, with a hot mug of cider in one hand, while the other hand defends me against woeful pirate bugs.

Anathema lasts all day on me, so I know I can rely on it. Wrath and The Great Sword of War are great mind-steelers, even if it's all in the name. I recently wore Very, Very Dreadfully Nervous hair gloss with Manhattan perfume when I felt underprepared for a social night out on the town. Bluebonnet and Flor de Maga are inoffensive but bolstering, for quiet courage.

Not floral, not fruity (and I'm not familiar with the washcard in question), but Plunder is a whole boatful of mulling spices: "The scent of a pirates bumboat, overflowing with stolen wares: tea leaf, cassia, cinnamon bark, clove, allspice, sandalwood, tobacco, peppercorn, and nutmeg." Plunder came unbidden in my first order, and it was churchdoor's autumn companion whilst sipping hot apple cider on the patio and going mad from pirate bugs. One I haven't tried, yet, is Jack, which would bring in some fruit: "The scent of warm, glowing jack olanterns on a warm autumn night: true Halloween pumpkin, spiced with nutmeg, glowing peach and murky clove." Reviews tend to mention a distinct buttery component in Jack, as well.

Flash review! This is churchdoor's first bay rum scent, first hair gloss, first Trading Post product, and first test after this dreadful cold, and the effects of that last first are still mildly haranguing the senses. The first time I tried this was on dry, unwashed hair, but I could barely make out the clove; during the time of this review, my hair was washed and damp before application. At first To quote alt-J, "Do not spray into eyes. / I have sprayed you into my eyes." N.b., the spray-into-hand-and-smooth-in method is preferable for those with no sense of aim. But then (I.e., when one pays attention once more to one's nose again rather than to one's eye.) If bay rum = spices marching in with clove on the front lines, then this is bay rum, by Meg, Jack, and Gum! (That's but a minced oath, not referring to any purveyor of bay rum, fine or otherwise.) After (just a little) time The troops brought limes as pack animals, the scent of which evokes the sweet aromatic spices and lime leaves sauteing before a dashing good curry. Thematic Analysis The gloss does move from foot to foot for a bit before the clove yields to reveal the lime; if there are shards of madness, they only serve to clear my sinuses for a moment on behalf of the main foci. Overall Very, Very Dreadfully Nervous was a great introduction to hair gloss and the BPTP itself, presenting a clean scent slowly shifting through its notes.

Credentials: Just starting my BPAL journey--really, just starting my buying-my-own-perfumes journey. So far, I have negligible outright dislikes, just a lot of unknowns I can't imagine based on a description or pick out with my nose in a blend. The History: A few years ago, my cousin gave me an essential oil blend called Heart Song and a heart-shaped scent locket as a gift. Despite how excited I was at the time to receive it, I found myself still reaching for other scents, most of the time. Something about Heart Song just didn't click the way I expected. So instead of trying the "Romantic Atmosphere" and "Coping Mist" suggested on the side of the box, I've mostly used it to keep funky laundry scents at bay. Now that I'm finally nosing my way forward in this world, I thought I'd better see what I can do about the conundrum. The Conundrum: All the notes in Aura Cacia brand's Heart Song are ones I hypothetically enjoy: lavender, coriander seed, geranium, and rose. However, all together, they achieve a dry, high-pitched herbal spice that puts me a bit on edge. I don't want to give up on the gift, especially when the ingredients are individually enticing; could layering save the scent for me? What sort of notes should I look for in BPAL descriptions in order to layer with poor Heart Song and sweeten and/or deepen the overall effect? Gratefully yrs, churchdoor

I've tried Moscow and liked it, despite its not being as deep or complex as I'd imagined, settling into a similar sweet lily+orange to that of Belle Epoque. As for my own recommendation, I'll put in a plug for Pulcinella and Teresina of the Carnaval Diabolique, who for me turn from a curious wine vinegar in the bottle to a sweet, rich wood blended with rose nectar on the skin.

[...] Also be on the look out for bois de rose as well, while I have seen some maintain that they reference two different trees I have mostly seen the term interchangeably. Some scents listing bois de rose that might be good are Endymion and Spirit Board [...] Thanks for the tip about the bois de rose. That's super helpful! Not that this has the desired fruit or musk, but I just spotted a new bois de rose blend in the Exquisite Corpse chapter opening this afternoon: BRIAR ROSE Thorny red roses swirled with mandrake accord, bois de rose, ambrette seed, and khus.

I'll totally throw in a Mouse's Long And Sad Tale imp into your package. Hurrah for you and your thorough research! I'll make certain to report back how well it plays with wily old Heart Song.

I'm a neophyte around these parts as well as to the intentionally-scented-self, so I don't have any specific recommendations. However, I did spot a relevant recommendations thread. As for the situation itself, stay in communication with your coworker on the matter, so that you have her go-ahead and clear feedback in what works or not. Also consider limiting how often you test, so that it's not the uncertainty-of-the-day in her life. If you find something that works, don't necessarily stick to that one thing all the time, especially if she's prone to developing new sensitivities to products. I have a sensitive-skinned friend who buys travel sizes of body products and rotates through them to try to keep abreast of negative reactions, so talk to your coworker about whether a similar practice might be helpful or if she prefers consistency.

Resurrecting to ask about yardwork (not quite gardening, I know, but similar enough to the topic at hand). Has anyone found any scent that works particularly well for them while mowing the lawn? It would be nice to find something that can hold up next gasoline/sweat/newly-cut grass--not to drown them out, but to complement what's already there. I'm new to the world of paying attention to fragrances, so I haven't to my knowledge tried anything with leather or metallic notes, but that's my first thought. Or maybe the mower engine creates enough earthy and metallic notes in its own right, but then I don't know what other notes would best add to it. What are your thoughts?

Thanks for all your prompt replies! Looking for vanilla in the unbidden imps that hitched a ride in my first order, I spot Belle Epoque, so I just gave that a whirl. It's already working! The vanilla and mandarin are definitely mellowing Heart Song's sharp spice; now it evokes a milky Earl Grey tea. It's much improved, and the results certainly give me grounds to keep experimenting with different blends as my collection grows. I'm so pleased my essential oil and scent locket found a new friend. Thanks again for the suggestions; you softened my Heart!

Credentials: First-ever order from BPAL (placed Aug 29 of this year, shipped Sep 6), first-ever perfume order from anywhere. Neophyte. Chose this simple floral as a somewhat selfish means of hurricane relief donation. At first: A sweet, deep-throated wildflower nectar brushes against the biting spice of pollen. But then: Uncloying, the nectar blooms and balances with the pollen. After time: The posy’s depth fades but wilts not, ever true to itself. Thematic analysis: My Texas friend (raised in the hill country near San Antonio) reports bluebonnets don’t smell like aught. Instead, this scent is what the honeybee detects–or represents the blossoms’ humid summer dreams, bonnets drooped down over drowsy blue eyes. Overall: The pure, winsome nature of Single Note: Blue Bonnet does justice to the unflagging and hopeful people its proceeds intend to benefit. Rating: 9.5 Texas National Guard Hum-Vs crashed and recovered after a joyride

Credentials: First-ever order from BPAL (placed Aug 29 of this year, shipped Sep 6), first-ever perfume order from anywhere. Neophyte. Chose this complicated-sounding incense for the name and its reference, knowing my nose wouldn’t be able to distinguish most individual elements, but still intrigued to smell the olfactory scriptural interpretation. At first: Cinnamon rips warm through the dark fabric of the nose. But then: The cinnamon smolders among its brethren but does not slumber within their penumbra. After time: The inner chamber empties of cassia and cinnamon shadows and their mealtime aroma, leaving behind the murky-sweet footfall of intimate, wood-walled resins. Thematic analysis: I expected a mournful or ominous lead of this Good Friday scent, but instead its warmth explodes forth like the hidden presence of God released unto the world. This biblical catastrophe triumphantly tears down its old confinements. With the human body as its new chosen temple, the divine spirit reaches boldly forward from the hearth–then sustains its host’s soul with a subtler and steadier insistence. Overall: Even where the sun goes unseen, The Curtain of the Temple was Torn in Two's transformation from a hearty scent to a grounded incense on the skin foretells the bodily resurrection and the human spirit made new. Rating: 10/10 horrified and overthrown Pharisees