Gwydion

In bottle: Grapes and incense. Rich and vaguely smokey, almost musky. Wet: dry, ashy note, with sweet incense overlay. The grape is gone and whatever it is making the musk smell is softer. The effect is exotic, evoking an image of a desert cave. Dry: It morphs into a soft, well blended incense smell with that ashy note underneath. I’m not sure it works on me. It’s perhaps to light and feminine, but it is quite pleasing.

I've had accidental tastings too. not only are they unpleasant to the tongue, but some of them burn.

In bottle: Lots and lots of cinnamon with a bit of pepper and hint of clove. Wet: Sooooo much cinnamon. The pepper gives it an almost decaying effect. Dry: This practically disappears on me leaving a hint of spices.

In bottle: Chocolate and incense with chalky patchouli and a hint of flowers. Wet: more patchouli than I like in my chocolate, but not bad. The incense and flowers are a little weird with the chocolate/patchouli dominant notes. I’m not smelling much leather. I’m intrigued, but not sure it’s working well. Dry: The patchouli ends up strongest, with the backing of the incense.

In bottle: Florals and aquatic notes strongest, a clean, sharp scent with an incense spike. Wet: Much as in the bottle, only more nuanced as the other notes come out. I like the clay and stone notes, but I think the florals are simply too intense for me. Dry: Ends up in a vaguely earthy aquatic.

In bottle: Very delicate. Vanilla, wood, and grapefruit mostly. It really does evoke loss and the insubstantial. Wet; grapefruit on top with a delicate musky undertone. The other elements slowly come out with the warmth of the skin. The asceticism of the woods, resins, and aloe, is given richer undertones my the foody elements. Dry: Mostly sandlewood with a sweet sugary element to it. Not bad, but not stunning.

In bottle: Mostly almond with some clove and rum. Wet: still mostly almond with a hint of the other ingredients at first. Slowly, the sassafras emerges, carrying the clove and bay with it. The rum is last to assert itself, but the buttered rum adds a mellowness to the spicier elements. Surprisingly the effect ends up more spicey than foody, despite the strength of the almond. I had refrained from ordering this because of my mixed results with sassafras, but really, this is a delightful mixture and I’m quite glad it came as a frimp. It is a pleasing companion to the pirate scents and one of the rare clove blends that doesn’t smell Christmassy. Instead it has a warm, sun baked feel to it. Dry: a touch powdery, but holds scent blend integrity surprisingly well. It will eventually fade to clove rum though.

There's a thread about carrier oils where this question has been discussed quite a bit. (I think it's this one but that could be wrong). My take on it (keeping in mind that I am not an expert or affiliated with the lab, yada yada) is that 1) it's possible there are components in BPAL that are neither perfume/essential oils nor carrier oils (absolutes? resins? beeswax?), 2) that there's (possibly - my speculation) a difference between a blended perfume that's diluted with carrier oil, and a perfume blended from oils that have been diluted to safe levels, and 3) while I know individuals can have allergic reactions to different notes/strengths, if BPAL were generally unsafe to apply to the skin without dilution, the Lab would tell us. They have no incentive to sell perfumes that are unsafe to put on the skin! That's not to say that specific individuals might not be happier wearing the oils diluted, but I'm quite sure the Lab blends its oils to be skin safe to the general public. ETA: I get all almond from Black Phoenix. I've had oil in older imps do this too. It's not all or even most. My theory is that they evaporate to levels where things I'm very mildly allergic to reach a concentration high enough to cause skin reaction. Luckily, this has only happened with oils I wasn't that fond of. I'm sorry it happened with one you loved.

In bottle: Rich honey cakes with spices and lemonade. I would eat this in a heart beat. Honey is the strongest note. Wet: The honey, clove, and lemon are strongest. It’s sweet and light, managing to evoke spring and baked goods all at once. There is a touch more lemon than is good for it, but that is my fault, not the blend’s as I really amp citrus. The honey smoothes the lemon out enough that I can still wear it. Dry: Something odd comes out as it wears. I am guessing it may be the sweet briar as it’s a smell unfamiliar to me. The ginger also comes out. The honey wears well, and the other scents seem to float in it.

In bottle: Sweet vaguely flowery metallic musk. The balsam adds a pleasant herbal edge that smoothes the edges nicely. Wet: Green and musky with a rich flowery edge. It’s more jungle than forest. The tobacco flower is really lush when combined with the balsam. The whole thing smell wet and a touch mechanical. It was not what I was expecting, but this is a floral, I might actually wear. Dry: sweet musky vegetation. Surprisingly sexy and unusual. I’m not sure goggles would smell this way, but I’m okay with it.

In bottle: Given be strong allergic reaction to the mandrake fragrance, I opted not to skin test. It’s sharp and bitter. The effect is almost citrusy with myrrh on top. It makes me a touch dizzy. I suspect this would serve well in place of smelling salts. Seriously, this is the smell equivalent of an ice pick to the brain.

In bottle: incense and roses and baby powder. L Wet: Roses and mixed incense. Too sweet, too much rose. This is my fault. When I read Rosicrucian, I think Templar, not roses. Dries to pure, boring rose.

In bottle: Sweet, leathery and herbal, deeply evocative of both dead desiccated things and the deep green. It’s vaguely chemical, but not unpleasantly so. Wet: Soft on the skin: crushed ferns, herbalist shop, leather. There is a richness despite the understated effect, a door opening onto a jungle as much sensed as smelled. My shin rather swallows it. However, the leather/herb combo is a good one and I rather like it. It’s unusual, even for a BPAL. Dry: Leather stays stongest, but the deliciously tingly herbs linger on.

In bottle: Surprisingly sweet. The beeswax/sandlewood with the sharper elements creates a really surprising effect. It makes me think of Napoleonic era soldiers. If Sharpe of Sharpe’s Rifles had a scent, I bet it would be this. Wet: The leather goes a little shoe polishy at first, but it all quickly settles into a bold, masculine scent, peppery and fierce. I imagine the soldier’s kit: wood trunk, gunpowder, and leather. This is also the strongest pepper I’ve smelled so far in an oil. As I wear it, it picks up my natural musk and creates an incredibly sexy scent ghost of that infantryman. I can’t stop sniffing this. Dry: Leather, sandalwood, and pepper last longest, leaving a pleasingly masculine residue long after the more delicate elements fade. I think I’m in love.

Hand of Glory has the strongest pepper scent i've found in any BPAL Oil.

In bottle: Rich chocolates and tea with spices. Wet: The tea is stronger than the chocolate, but the chocolate balances this beautifully. Given a little time the insensey notes come out. This is very well blended, with individual notes all taking precedence as it wears, but all staying part of the delicious whole never the less. The florals are present, but never strong enough to turn this from foody to floral. This is definitely my favorite chocolate scent I’ve sampled so far. The morphing does cause peculiar effects, like the moment the honeysuckle and sandalwood suddenly emerged, but seriously, the interesting combinations were all to the good. Dry: The sandalwood and chocolate end up dominent eventually. This is a little odd, but not in a bad way. I really like this.

In bottle: Cherry cough drops. Wet: Cherry cough drops in a sick room with flowers and maybe the window open to let even more lily in. They are really nice lilies and they do slowly over power the cherry as my skin warms the oil. Even on my cherry amping skin the lilies do eventually do a nice job of beating the cherry down into a rich but relatively subtle note. If I liked florals, I could actually wear this, something I can’t do with most cherries. Dry: Fades quickly to soft floral.

In bottle: Considering how tired of roses I am generally and my lack of luck with labdanum, I was not expecting much. Indeed, there is no point in me putting this on my skin as I amp roses so much. I can honestly say, this is not bad for a rose blend. I’m still not liking the labdanum, but it is doing nice things with the orchid, which turns the whole thing vaguely feral. Not even vaguely my thing, but if you are looking for a white/green rose blend with a hint of something different, this might be for you.

In bottle: Early spring. The floral combination is unusual for something in a bottle. Wet: jasmine on top with the other florals supporting. It is very intense. Dry; Mellows into a musky floral, rather heavy as the jasmine lasts longer than other elements.

In bottle: Smells like something good to drink. Grapefruit, lime, nectarine on top, with the other elements underneath. It is sweet and light and fruity. Wet: predictably, my skin amps citrus, but this is a pleasing blend of citrus elements with the musk, bergamot, and rose lightening and sweetening the blend, creating a very smoothly blended whole. I am not a rose fan, but the rose here does a good job of working and playing well with others. Dry: Softens to something light and feminine and warm. The patchouli starts to come out on the skin, but plays well with the sage so that it’s not too pushy. This scent isn’t me at all, but would be charming on the right woman. Goes a touch shampoo towards the end. The sweet musk lasts longest.

In bottle: Dragon’s blood single note. Sweet resin. Wet: I can’t wear this stuff by itself anymore, alas. It’s a real shame because I love the scent of dragon’s blood. Sweet, almost flowery. Heavy and sexy but in an entirely different way than Musk. Dry: Sweet resiny perfume with lots of staying power.

In bottle: Whoa! Ever walk through a vine infested dilapidated garden in the spring after the rains? This smells almost exactly like that. Bruised greenery, broken vines and wood, with a hint of candy and apple blossoms. It’s beautiful and a little unnerving. Wet: Slightly more foody, with the seasonings coming out. The chamomile gives the impression of tea. I am now imagining an old woman drinking complex homemade herbal tea while looking out at that overgrown wet spring garden. Dry: I was going to thumbs up this, despite it’s floral nature, but then I discovered it went into an ugly powdery dry down, and I’m fairly sure that something in it is making me sneeze. I’m sad, because I really liked it wet.

In bottle: Rich musky gingerbread. Seriously, I don’t know whether to eat this or kiss it. The dragon’s blood turns it vaguely ethereal. Wet: OMG! The scent is incredibly rich and spicey and alluring. This is hard to describe adequately, but trust me when I say that this speaks directly to the kind brain and does wicked little things. I have know idea why it smells faintly of cocoanut milk, but this isn’t a bad thing.. Dry: This gets more exciting as it wears blending interesting things with ones skin chemistry. The richness of the blend allows it to shift and change, yet maintain the delicious essence that is utterly itself. I usually can’t carry red musk, but the other elements somehow make this work on me. This does have a lot of throw.

In bottle: Mostly rain and ozone. I took a chance on a skin test as the vetiver was so faint. Wet: the same, but a touch more complex as the moss and stone come out. The vetiver is soft enough that it just gave it an edge without causing me real trouble. The vetiver does add a faint air of decay. Dry: fades fast to powder.

In bottle: Very sweet and light floral, with a tea and berry undertone. The mint is barely noticeable, so I’m going to take a chance and test it.. Vaguely aftershavelike, which is paradoxical, I know. Wet: The flower combination is unusual and pleasantly blue. The flower combination mingles pleasantly with the tea. It really does smell aetherial and vaguely Victorian, a good match for the concept. The mint is unnoticeable. When I say unnoticeable, I mean that I had no reaction to it at all, so I’m guessing the mint in this is one of the gentler species instead of one I am reactive too. Dry: Ah, there’s the mint. It stays soft, weaving in with the flowers as the whole thing starts to go slightly powdery. The powder eventually takes over until that’s all that’s left.