LadyCrow

In imp: Deep, dark red fruit. Wet: Deep fruit quickly surrounded by golden amber. Drying: The more the amber and sweet creamy sandalwood come forward, the more this scent becomes not just classy but oddly comforting -- which is all out of tune with the poem, but then Malediction reminds me of summer Grateful Dead tour, so what do I know? A great blend: nicely complex, really long-lasting but not so strong that you knock over the person next to you, and mature but not perfumey. The notes are balanced with style here.

Count me among those who find this a bit unsettling. I mean, it's not that the mandarin and mango aren't pretty. All the notes are great, if a bit sharp right at the beginning. But... they're zombies. Pretty zombies, but still zombies. It's like Shadow's wife Laura in American Gods: she keeps getting fired from a series of temporary jobs for decomposing. And I don't really get why! I would have expected precisely what happens here: the fruit is most prominent at first, with something almost peppery going on; the musk hangs around behind it, very dark, and then the final stage of the drydown is almost entirely sandalwood. So there's no reason this scent should be disturbing, and I initially thought it wouldn't be at all. But... weird.

In imp: Bright, bright citrus. Wearing this, I get sweet, yet tangy citrus, which slowly recedes to make room for the cherry blossom and tea. (I'm pretty sure there's not any significant amount of pine here. I've been wearing this for a couple of hours, and by now I would have had to go for antihistamines and possibly my inhaler if there were.) Because so much of the wearing time is dominated by the citrus and persimmon, I tend to classify this as fruity, rather than floral -- but it's lighter even than Tweedledee; it's not sticky-fruity, but sharp and clean.

In the imp: Bright fig. On skin: Very different. The first thing I get is the cedar; my skin always takes that and runs with it, so it takes me a while to get to the dry cocoa stage -- but it's marvelous to be there! Very dry, very subtle -- maybe a vague hint of the smokiness, but just sort of sultry and calm about it. Dark cocoa -- despite that and the fig, I wouldn't really call this foody any more than I would call Tombstone foody. It's just complex, sophisticated, and subtle.

In the imp: Peppered honey-vanilla. Hey, is somebody making chai? Wet: This is crazy. CRAZY. Where is my nose getting clover? Drydown: What a funny morpher this bunny is! I get a "clover" stage for the first bit (I'm suspecting this is the combined influence of the honey and vanilla) that makes me think of lawns and grass; then the clean linen really settles in and stays there, close to my skin and cozy. For me, this is a fantastic comfort scent -- ironic, considering how neurotic the titular Rabbit was!

In the imp: Spicy, musky. Wet: Wham, dragon's blood and smoke. Drydown: I could eat myself. I mean, Ars Draconis has not so far done me wrong, but this is fabulous -- I think I like it better even than Hide and Reverie. The musks are very commanding and go straight for... let's say, one's kundalini energy. Late in the drydown, the slivers of fruit mentioned in the description finally come out, but this one had me at "hello."

In the imp: Bubble gum, the powdery kind. Wet: This is exactly like a cherry Blow Pop, and I do mean "cherry" and "blow." Drydown: I get a cinnamon-gum stage before a final morph into a sweet, fruity, predominantly cherry perfume. The final stage is okay -- I'm just not a fan of the stages you go through to get there. Jailbait is very, very true to its scent concept; it's just a concept that doesn't really fit me.

With allergies to tobacco and coniferous trees (pine, fir, spruce, etc.), I may win some kind of weird prize: I now have a self-compiled list of more than 70 GCs, LEs, SNs, and discons that I can't wear. On the bright side, this keeps me from lusting after Storyville, for example. So yeah -- before I email the Lab, does anybody know off the top of their head whether the smoky note in Chrysanthemum Moon is, in fact, tobacco, or just the opium-smoky note? If it's the latter, that's wonderful. If it's the former, that's one more for my long, sad list, and I can use the "cry" emoticon... but better that than the Benadryl and all that shiz.

In the imp: Spicy. Wet: Dry, dry amber; creamy sandalwood; slithery vanilla. Is there tonka bean in here, or have I gone mad from huffing little vials? Drydown: The amber stays on top of the vanilla -- which is interesting because I've seen pictures of leucistic snakes that were like that: sort of creamy white with yellow markings on top. The spice is subtler with longer wear, and something musky comes up behind the vanilla. Very gentle and subtle, but at the same time very sexy. I don't really put this in the "foody" category because of all the resins -- I don't eat anything with even a hint of patchouli in it -- but it's appealing, that vanilla. Tricky!

In the imp: Dirt. In a nice way. Wet: Slightly citric dirt. Ooh, there's dragon's blood on the ground. Drydown: There's a brief bloom of dragon's blood through the vetivert, creating a sensual, feral combination. This serpent's tongue isn't just for show, apparently! Then, as the scent warms on my wrist, the cinnamon takes over and sort of brackets the vetivert (and gets a little bit warm on my skin -- this is a definite keeper, but not a slatherer). Cloves are in here, maybe -- I agree with whoever mentioned a root cellar. This is autumnal to me, but like an autumn bonfire in full roar.

AH, Sun-Flower! weary of time, Who countest the steps of the Sun; Seeking after that sweet golden clime, Where the traveller's journey is done; Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow, Arise from their graves and aspire Where my sun-flower wishes to go. -- William Blake I had to try this because of this poem, which in turn fascinated poet Allen Ginsberg, and because I grew up on a part of the Great Plains where sunflowers are farmed. While the scent is more of an evocation than a recreation, it captures the way sunflowers definitely aren't girly-floral. The Lab is really starting to capture a "fuzzy" quality in certain scents -- Kelly Pool also comes to mind -- that works interestingly in the overall picture here. In the imp: Astringent, almost a bright green scent. I even want to say "clean" here. Wet: A bit lemony at first -- something here is lemony on me in the same way that many sun-related scents are (e.g. Ahathoor). Drydown: I get the amber, and then, quite sharply, the moss. Something nags at me, reminding me very faintly of melon. There's none of the scratchy outright smoke of Scarecrow here, just hot, hot sun beating down on the fields. (Yes -- if you've never been to one, the whole field of sunflowers really does face east in the morning and west in the afternoon.) Something's a bit prickly, like geranium (and like a sunflower is physically). At about 20 minutes in, there's only moderate sillage, but this is really a scent you'd wear for yourself anyway -- either actually during the summer, to really feel that confident goldenness (The Lion might actually be a better GC comparison than Scarecrow), or in other seasons, to conjure that "sweet golden clime." Sunflower is maybe a tad sweeter than the real thing, which smells a bit like marigold in my memory of it, but is one of those "big sky country" scents that I mentally shelve alongside Coyote and Tombstone... which is totally wrong for German Expressionism in the early 20th century, but what can you do?

In the imp: Citrus. Wet: Sweet, sweet citrus and tea. Drydown: At first, there's a bit of that "Froot Loops" overload that Tweedledum also has. I could swear there's mango in this -- the fruitiness is brilliant and golden, and the pepper really makes this unexpectedly likable rather than just fruit candy -- this is like a quieter, much less complex GC analogue to Mi-Go Brain Canister, if that makes sense. This smells fresh, light, summery, young, but has unexpected staying power on me for an oil that's so light-colored in the imp. Clearly Tweedledee prefers the sun and Tweedledum prefers the shade.

In the imp: Bright green tea. Wet: Fruity -- the mango is subtle. Oh, hello, patchouli! Drydown: This balances into a nice, gentle, fruity patchouli, which is well done considering how my skin amps patchoulis. Astringent, dark, earthy tea, almost. Moderate to minimal throw, but lasts a long time on me. (Apparently I didn't scare off Mr. Dum here after all!) I would recommend this to someone looking for a kinder, gentler patchouli, something not as aggressive as Malediction. A fun scent.

Disclaimer: I am insanely biased toward anything with dragon's blood in it; it plays absolutely perfectly with my skin chemistry. That said: The lotus gives this blend that familiar sweet, lush ripeness. But instead of going yucky-sweet the way it does in some other blends, it's kept in check by the smoky, incense-like resin. I'm not sure I'd wear this as regularly as I would some of the other dragon's-blood blends, just because I don't always want to smell sweet and fruity. It's more of an evening scent -- maybe a concert, a club, a bar. It is, though, a really nice demonstration of the way lotus can be kept from cloying and instead made to play smoothly as part of an overall perfume.

In the imp: Sharp, green. Wet: Bug repellent. Drydown: It takes me a fairly long time to get roses out of this; what has to burn off is the identical note that messes up Rose Cross for me. I really hoped this would be magic, the way it seems to be for so many others, but those two blends seem to share a note that absolutely plays hideously with my skin. By the time that finally goes, the remaining roses are so faint and so close to my skin as to make this nearly pointless to apply. Off with its head -- er, off to swaps!

In imp: Bright, sharp, green. Wet: Lavender and something lemony. Dry: Lavender, lavender, lavender. Is that jasmine? I cannot tell you what happened with the notes on the drydown, or how long this lasted on my skin, because I fell sound asleep. However, since that's exactly what the oil is supposed to do, that's great. I remember only one dream: walking through the grass, trying not to step on or injure these tiny, happy, pretty little green snakes. Perhaps Somnus is telling me to buy a bunch of the snake LEs?

In the imp: Spicy citrus. Wet: Cardamom, then cherry blossom, then cinnamon. Ooh, shapeshifting! Drydown: The tea note itself does seem more green than black, but the citrus and spices give it the flavor of pekoe. The amber musk really glows, keeping the cherry blossom around longer than might be possible on my skin otherwise. I've heard that if you put this, Bastet, and Black Cat on at the same time, you explode. Or get really bad hairballs. I can't remember which.

I've been listening to amazing streaming jazz and blues radio from WWOZ.org all day, so today really had to be the day I finally tested New Orleans! In the imp: Almost pure honeysuckle. On skin: Very true to the scent description, with the jasmine dominating. I could be mistaken, but to my nose, this smells more like jasmine sambac (the jasmine you'd drink) than posher, chillier versions in other, more traditionally perfumey Lab florals. Fantastic throw, and the dampness, or hint of decay, is all the more reminder that flowers are ephemeral in the first place: The seeds that were silent all burst into bloom and decay -- The Grateful Dead, "Eyes of the World" I can see New Orleans really lifting my spirit in the dead (!) of winter, when I need to be reminded of lushness and growing things. I love this.

In the imp: Sharp, green floral -- jasmine and gardenia. It looks so innocent when it's sleeping! Wet: More of the bamboo-tea notes. Drying down: Dark, dark. The musk comes out here -- and enough of these ingredients would be drinkable together in the same cup of tea (a jasmine-ginger chai isn't far outside the realm of imagination) to make Faiza subversively delicious at this stage, a very tempting snake indeed when the honey emerges. The scent picture is somber but very much alive, comparable to some recent Salons -- and in the same way, seductive even to the Kind of Person Who Doesn't Normally Wear Florals .

In imp: Sharp, astringent. Wet: The same, almost citric. Drydown: Rose + frankincense on me = bug repellent. I smell like I sprayed Deep Woods Off into the crook of my elbow. If this actually keeps bugs away, great, but my chemistry urgently hates this perfume.

In imp: Astringent herbals -- is there rose here? Wet: Slightly sour rose and herbs. Green coconut, maybe? Drydown: Oh, this is better. Powdery wildflowers over a very light honey base. I can see wearing this around the office without bothering a soul; it's not too overwhelming for summer, either. Overall, I do have to agree with everyone who said that this is closer, both in scent and feel, to the Voodoo Blends than to a standard-issue perfume. Obatala is more like something I'd put on when I wanted to smell delicious; I would put on this blend when I wanted to evoke (or invoke?) the specific qualities of Osun. A keeper, but one to be stored with my Voodoos and TALs.

Oh! Where is my old Advanced Dungeons & Dragons First Edition Monster Manual? I'd scan the Rakshasa illo and make ever such a nice icon for this... In the imp: Citrusy rose. Wet: Sharp, citrusy patchouli. Drydown: The patchouli is strongly dominant on me for at least the first hour; it reminds me very much of the citrusy patchouli note in The Coiled Serpent. Here, though, it's tempered by the sandalwood, which allows it to stay balanced rather than rampaging all over the place. When I finally get the rose, it's a genteel tea rose, nothing obnoxious; the ultimate drydown of this blend is a nice combination, one that remains spicy enough to pique interest without being particularly wafty. Others have brought up this blend when reviewing Pulcinella & Teresina. I can see the comparison, not only in the wood-plus-rose combo, but that in that in each blend, I need to wait for the top note to burn off (the heavy teak in P&T) before getting any rose out of the experience. The rose comes more quickly, and is more of a player, in Rakshasa. (In neither case is it my primary consideration, but not everybody is the All-Woods-All-The-Time channel!) Rakshasa could still be played as a unisex scent, but it's definitely on the more feminine side of the spectrum -- and the guy would have to be content smelling like a hippie. I love patchouli, personally, so I don't mind having it dominate and transferring it to my husband, clothing, etc. etc.; it's just something to be aware of if your skin, like mine, amps that note.

In the bottle: Sharp, pungent labdanum. Wet: Teak! Deep, dark, heavy wood. One of the darkest wood scents I've tried, along with Monster Bait: Ventriloquist's Dummy. I like this, oh yes. Drydown: The teak, which is a bit astringent, backs off just enough for me to get the cedar and labdanum (not much of the rose; it's more suggestive of roses than a rose lying on top of the teak dresser or whatever), but is still the dominant note. I think of old architecture, antiques, chests of drawers. The associations to go with this lovely blend are fascinating -- nothing like the concept, I fear, but fascinating! I agree with other commenters who state that a man could easily pull off wearing this without feeling excessively girly. However, I'm keeping mine for me. Sorry, guys.

In imp: Sweet, sweet, sweet! On skin: This is like the most glorious fruit candy you ever had in your life. I don't mean that in any disparaging way. The initial combination of notes is utterly beautiful. Drydown: Once the honey mead comes out for me, this stays consistently very sweet for me, with an incense base. The throw isn't overwhelming, but close to the skin, the scent is quite powerful. Probably not something I'd put into an everyday rotation, but something I'd wear to dress up. It's not making me personally crave a bottle -- a bit too floral for that -- but it's a lovely and well-assembled scent. I must admit that the name amuses the hell out of me. An essential part of piercing aftercare is that, in between twice-daily cleansings, you apply the LITHA method -- Leave It The Hell Alone, i.e. no twiddling the jewelry with your germy hands all day. If you put on a pretty dress and scent yourself with some Litha, I predict that people will not leave you the hell alone; they will approach you and tell you that you smell good! If you want to be left the hell alone, try Brimstone.

(Luperci '07) In the imp: Sharply resinous. Wet: The balsam and juniper are dominant. Drying down: Originally, this vanishes, and I have to slather. When I do, I get the patchouli a bit more, but the woods still dominate, and are too astringent for me, making my throat scratchy. (Juniper... damn, that's related to all those other trees I can't... damn, damn, damn.) It's a pity, because I always try to convince patchouli haters of what it can do when it's just one note in a nicely balanced blend, and I think that for someone with the right skin chemistry (and lack of nasal oversensitivity), this blend has the potential to be just that.