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Showing results for tags 'Halloween 2010'.
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PUMPKIN LATTE Espresso, pumpkin syrup, smoky vanilla bean, milk, raw sugar, and a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg. Fresh from the mailbox. In the bottle: Mmm! Pumpkin with a hint of spices and a whisper of vanilla coffee. It's not super sweet. Wet on skin: Pumpkin again, of course! ^^ But I'm getting more of the cinnamon and nutmeg coming up. Dry: Pumpkin has settled down with the spices and vanilla nicely. The espresso is giving this a deep, rich almost nutty note. The cream and sugar add a milky sweetness. Later: PL stays pretty much the same for the rest of the day. Maybe with just a little bit more of the spices coming up again, but they aren't too hot or biting. Overall: This is an OMG!scent. Makes up for any regrets I had not getting PPV last year. I resniffed my decant and honestly, Pumpkin Latte puts that one in dust by PL's awesomeness. I am seriously considering another bottle of this, which I rarely do. If you're afraid of the pumpkin or coffee notes, I'd say don't be. This is a well rounded creamy spice scent with just enough sweetness to keep the spices from misbehaving. I've had it on my skin for a short time and already am completely smitten.
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Ay, thou art welcome, heaven's delicious breath! When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf, And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief And the year smiles as it draws near its death. Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from care, Journeying, in long serenity, away. In such a bright, late quiet, would that I Might wear out life like thee, 'mid bowers and brooks And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, And music of kind voices ever nigh; And when my last sand twinkled in the glass, Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass. Dry, cold autumn wind. A rustle of red leaves, a touch of smoke and sap in the air. This is the scent I've looked forward to - some of my favorite autumn smells, all rolled into a single perfume. In the bottle, this was sharp and masculine. Ooo, very sharp. Wet, it transformed immediately to the scent of mouldering leaves, with an overtone of men's cologne. Dry, the throw is all wet, decaying leaves (which I find quite pleasant), but unfortunately, when I bring my wrist to my nose, all I smell is cheap men's cologne and a whiff of musk. On the whole, I think my skin chemistry has played me false once more.
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NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay. Dewy green leaves colored by Moroccan amber, ginseng, and rooibos. In bottle: This is a tangy, enticing, green leaf sort of scent. It should smell like high end shampoo, but it doesn’t. The ginseng it to feisty, the leaves are too fierce. The tea and amber are lovely in this, warm and friendly. It makes one thing of sitting on the porch watching rain fall through trees while sipping tea. It’s more than the sum of it’s parts. Wet: It smoothes out on the skin, but keeps the characteristic tang and the fierceness of the leaves. I can think of no other scent quite like it. It is unexpected and riveting. Dry: Softer, less complex. Leaf dominant, with a ginseng kick and some soft amber in the background. It’s nice, but less stunning than it was new.
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Vibrant with the joy and sweetness of life in death! A blend of five sugars, lightly dusted with candied fruits. I am nervous to be the first here but everyone is clamoring for a review. In the bottle: This smells like opening a new package of brown sugar- deep, fresh, bright. It reminds me of bartending and making my own simple syrup on the stove-top before work. When the sugar becomes heated and begins to boil, the scent rises up like this. Mmmm...almost like the crusted shell of a freshly-made creme brulee. On my arm and wrist: Whoa! This is suddenly taking on a new shape and I am falling in love There is a snap to the smell now that was undiscernableb/f in the bottle. Its almost spicy and definitely gives an edge to the sugar smell. I keep on sniffing my arm, wanting to smell it agian and again. It reminds me of something...hmm...what is it?? Kinda reminds me of Demeter's Snow fragrance which is clean and makes you feel pure and happy. Except that this being Bpal, it is far more complex and provocative. Something in this smell makes me think of Big Red gum but I don't know why...I don't get a cinnamon hit off this oil but I keep coming back to this impression. A few hours later: This has mellowed but is still going strong. Now, it reminds me of marzipan with maybe a hint of mint or something refreshing like that in it. I love it! This one has really surprised me...I generally don't go in for the sweet scents but this one has bite and legs must be the "skull" in the "sugar"!
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BOO Eerie billows of spun sugar, fluttering white cotton, and sheets of cream. :ghost: This scent, for me, was exactly the same in the bottle, wet and dry on me. That's a first! The sugar and cotton are the two strong notes, with the cream adding a wonderful richness without being overpowering. I'm glad to see cream take a backseat for once, on my skin it usually turns sour. The cotton is fresh, clean, line dried in crisp spring air sheets that haven't been washed with scented detergent. It's sweet, but doesn't scream FOOD, but it does smell eerily like a marshmallow. Not a toasted marshmallow, just a straight out of the bag puffy white marshmallow. One of my favorites from the '09 Weenies, if not my favorite. :ghost:
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THE UNSTEADY GOVERNESS It made me, the sound of the words, in which it seemed to me that I caught for the very first time a small faint quaver of consenting consciousness—it made me drop on my knees beside the bed and seize once more the chance of possessing him. "Dear little Miles, dear little Miles, if you KNEW how I want to help you! It's only that, it's nothing but that, and I'd rather die than give you a pain or do you a wrong—I'd rather die than hurt a hair of you. Dear little Miles"—oh, I brought it out now even if I SHOULD go too far—"I just want you to help me to save you!" But I knew in a moment after this that I had gone too far. The answer to my appeal was instantaneous, but it came in the form of an extraordinary blast and chill, a gust of frozen air, and a shake of the room as great as if, in the wild wind, the casement had crashed in. The boy gave a loud, high shriek, which, lost in the rest of the shock of sound, might have seemed, indistinctly, though I was so close to him, a note either of jubilation or of terror. I jumped to my feet again and was conscious of darkness. So for a moment we remained, while I stared about me and saw that the drawn curtains were unstirred and the window tight. "Why, the candle's out!" I then cried. "It was I who blew it, dear!" said Miles. —The Turn of the Screw, Henry James White tea and violet leaf. I have always said that some of Beth's best creations come with the simplest notes. I was right then...and I am right now! This is just gorgeous! White tea with hints of fresh almost juicy violet. The smells like fresh wet white tea with violet. I just love it. I want to drink this blend and wear it all at the same time. It's just amazing. Beth has outdone herself once again!
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THE DECREPIT HOUSE During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it was; but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible. I looked upon the scene before me—upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain—upon the bleak walls—upon the vacant eye-like windows—upon a few rank sedges—and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees—with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the after-dream of the reveler upon opium—the bitter lapse into every-day life—the hideous dropping off of the veil. There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart—an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime. What was it—I paused to think—what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? It was a mystery all insoluble; nor could I grapple with the shadowy fancies that crowded upon me as I pondered. I was forced to fall back upon the unsatisfactory conclusion that while, beyond doubt, there are combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among considerations beyond our depth. It was possible, I reflected, that a mere different arrangement of the particulars of the scene, of the details of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to annihilate its capacity for sorrowful impression; and, acting upon this idea, I reined my horse to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid tarn that lay in unruffled luster by the dwelling, and gazed down—but with a shudder even more thrilling than before—upon the remodeled and inverted images of the gray sedge, and the ghastly tree stems, and the vacant and eye-like windows. —The Fall of the House of Usher, EA Poe An architectural doppelganger reflecting a ruined soul: dilapidated planks of mahogany and cypress wood perched feebly on a grim foundation of long-dead leaves, black musk, patchouli, galbanum, tobacco absolute, fragonia, and oakmoss. The scent of sweet, sun warmed, aged wood, with a smoky, musky, autumnal kind of backdrop. Its not sharp like fresh cut tree, or dusty and prickly like sawdust, nor does it have any mildewy aspects. Its sweet and heady and actually not very decrepit at all.
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HALLOWEEN: BROOKLYN When I was very little, my father took me to the Green-Wood Cemetery so that I could pay my respects to those who had passed before us. I remember the afternoon as cold and clear, I remember picking up pine cones and putting them in my mother’s handbag, and I remember the blanket of purple flowers that dotted the grass. Flowering dogwood, weeping cherry, Korean pine, camellia, moonflower, Alberta spruce, arborvitae, and crab apples. The spruce stood out the most in the bottle, almost so much that it scared me. On the dry down, the other scents I so wanted started to emerge, the dogwood started to take the forefront thank goodness! It becomes far more floral, I can detect the moonflower which I love and over all I get a greeny-floral scent, but it seems to fade rather quickly on me. I was pleasantly surprised over all, but sad that it doesn't seem to stand out more. I'm definitely keeping this one though.
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HALLOWEEN: SAN FRANCISCO I spent two Halloweens in San Francisco. It was a sad, strange time in my life, as I was still grieving over the death of my father, and the scent of those nights evokes a sense of melancholy for me still. Rain battering leaves that are already soaked by rain, and the salty mist coming from the Pacific. Salt air wafting in from the bay. Rain falling on rain-soaked leaves. The mere fact that this scent exists makes me ridiculously happy. Maybe I should feel a little bad, since the Halloweens that inspired this scent were not Beth's happiest, but that doesn't change the fact that San Francisco is my very favorite of cities. I am madly in love with the place - it's somewhere completely comfortable to me, and I sincerely hope I end up here permanently. I know I'd posted on the forum in the past that I hoped there'd be a San Francisco scent some day, so my squee was over the top when this was released. Honestly, this could have smelled like all of my death notes plus cat litterbox and I still would've ordered it, because it's San Francisco, but even aside from the inspiration, the notes in this sound beautiful. I do well with rain notes and leaf notes, and the description of this is very evocative, even without a mention of the specific cityscape. I admit I haven't been in San Francisco actually on Halloween, but I've been here in all four seasons at some point, and I'm excited to see how this matches up. In the bottle: Absolutely and completely dead on for a pile of wet leaves. Not leaves that are wet and still on trees, but leaves that have fallen and soaked in the rain. Not getting anything but the subtlest hint of the salt air, though. Wet on skin: Wet leaves still, but also rain. It's definitely raining fresh new water on those leaves now. It's a clean and soft rain. The salt air is still very very very subtle, perhaps even more so now that there's the freshwater note. Drydown: Freshly dry, the salt air is a little more obvious. It's still not as strong as the rain or the leaves, but it's back there - and this makes sense, since it's harder to smell the ocean if it's pouring freshwater from the sky. I think the rain note is more prominent than the leaves right now, if anything, but this balance still works beautifully. At one hour in, all three main components are playing well together: rain and wet leaves are pretty evenly balanced, and salt air is subtler over them, but is still present. It's a soft scent, pretty close to the skin, but not actually anywhere near disappearing. Five hours later: Largely the same balance as at one hour. If anything, the saltwater is more prominent now, and the leaves are less prominent, but everything is still there. It's softer than before, but I don't have to sniff hard to tell it's still there. End of the day: Salty air, mostly, with maybe a little rain behind it. No more leaves. Very very soft now. I'm only picking up these notes at this point because I'm shoving my nose on my wrist. Overall: This is a soft, somewhat melancholy, gorgeously evocative scent. It's a blend with distinct components, but in the case of any cityscape - visual or olfactory - it's specific elements rather than a homogeneous whole that really represents the place. I am still so so thrilled with how exactly the opening stages of this smell like piles of wet leaves - I'd say the leaf note is comparable to October or to what I remember of Falling Leaf Moon (though less spicy than the latter), and the rain note is the same one from Visiting the Temple of Auspicious Fortune Alone on the Winter Solstice. At first, to be honest, before the saltwater showed up, that combination didn't so much remind me of San Francisco as of the piles of damp wet leaves I helped rake as a kid in northern Virginia. Once the salt air did come out though - and it's the same salty note as in Phantom Cow of Yerba Buena Island, which totally makes sense, since these scents represent the same Bay - that shifted this to definitely representing a rainy day late in the year in the City by the Bay. My only "complaint," if you could even call it that, is that I wish this had a bit more throw, but I might not be giving that aspect the most fair assessment, since I did wear this through a very busy day (that included walking on the Golden Gate Bridge, riding a cable car, eating chowder in a bread bowl by the wharf, milkshakes in Ghirardelli Square, and general wandering around the Mission District, among other things - really!). But the reason I'd like more throw is because I want to smell this more, and that's because it's gorgeous. San Francisco or no San Francisco, this smells really beautiful. The fact that it represents this City just ices the cake. Thank you so much for this one, Beth!
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THE WILD SWANS AT COOLE The trees are in their autumn beauty, The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the water Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the stones Are nine-and-fifty swans. The nineteenth autumn has come upon me Since I first made my count; I saw, before I had well finished, All suddenly mount And scatter wheeling in great broken rings Upon their clamorous wings. I have looked upon those brilliant creatures, And now my heart is sore. All's changed since I, hearing at twilight, The first time on this shore, The bell-beat of their wings above my head, Trod with a lighter tread. Unwearied still, lover by lover, They paddle in the cold Companionable streams or climb the air; Their hearts have not grown old; Passion or conquest, wander where they will, Attend upon them still. But now they drift on the still water, Mysterious, beautiful; Among what rushes will they build, By what lake's edge or pool Delight men's eyes when I awake some day To find they have flown away? October twilight. Falling leaves breaking the stillness of cool water, with sweet autumn clematis, feather-soft orris root, luminous white chypre, and muguet. Sweet cool water. Then melon? And then the florals come! Argh! I know what this smells like. Bath and Body Works cool cucumber without the nasty chemical cucumber note. I don't know if this will be staying....I am going to give it a couple of days to settle and test it again!
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PUNKIE NIGHT Once upon a time, on a wild October night many years ago, a fair took place at Chiselborough. The men of the village of Hinton St. George made their way to the fair, and spent the night in revelry, drinking and carrying on, far into the darkest hours. Their wives grew concerned, and went looking for their unruly husbands. In order to see their way through the autumn gloom, they hollowed out mangel-wurzels and crafted them into makeshift lanterns. The drunken men, in their sloshy haze, saw the ghostly lights approaching, and believed them to be goolies -- the furious spirits of unbaptized children. In terror, they fled in panic from their bemused, bewildered wives. To this day, that night of foolishness is still celebrated! This is a light-hearted scent: apple orchards, bright cranberries, and a touch of warm cider. APPLES APPLES APPLES! This is such a yummy scent...I want to take a bite out of my arm! When this was wet it was all apple on my skin. As it dried I got a little bit of fruit, cherries? (Nope once I looked it up I realized it was cranberries) and just the tiniest hint of spice. When dry it smells just like my house when I put a pot of cider on to simmer. Yummy, yummy, yummy!!!! I'm so happy with my choices for the Haloweenie scents! Thanks Beth for such great fall scents...it's my favorite time of year and now I can smell like it!
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THE HAG The Hag is astride, This night for to ride; The Devill and shee together: Through thick, and through thin, Now out, and then in, Though ne'r so foule be the weather. A Thorn or a Burr She takes for a Spurre: With a lash of a Bramble she rides now, Through Brakes and through Bryars, O're Ditches, and Mires, She followes the Spirit that guides now. No Beast, for his food, Dares now range the wood; But husht in his laire he lies lurking: While mischiefs, by these, On Land and on Seas, At noone of Night are working, The storme will arise, And trouble the skies; This night, and more for the wonder, The ghost from the Tomb Affrighted shall come, Cal'd out by the clap of the Thunder. Black musk, bay leaves, galangal, bourbon vetiver, blackcurrant, and rum. Oh, I love this! It's heavy on the black musk and rum. The vetiver is light and when it dries, it gives the overall scent the most awesome dark smokiness. The black currant does not turn to cat pee on me (!!!) and is barely discernible. Overall, this scent is darkly musky, darkly sweet, darkly earthy and herbal, and darkly sexy. I would definitely call it unisex. It has really good staying power and a light, but really, really sexy, amount of sillage. Bottle worthy? Oh yes.
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A HOWL IN THE DARKNESS At last there came a time when the driver went further afield than he had yet gone, and during his absence, the horses began to tremble worse than ever and to snort and scream with fright. I could not see any cause for it, for the howling of the wolves had ceased altogether. But just then the moon, sailing through the black clouds, appeared behind the jagged crest of a beetling, pine-clad rock, and by its light I saw around us a ring of wolves, with white teeth and lolling red tongues, with long, sinewy limbs and shaggy hair. They were a hundred times more terrible in the grim silence which held them than even when they howled. For myself, I felt a sort of paralysis of fear. It is only when a man feels himself face to face with such horrors that he can understand their true import. All at once the wolves began to howl as though the moonlight had had some peculiar effect on them. The horses jumped about and reared, and looked helplessly round with eyes that rolled in a way painful to see. But the living ring of terror encompassed them on every side, and they had perforce to remain within it. I called to the coachman to come, for it seemed to me that our only chance was to try to break out through the ring and to aid his approach, I shouted and beat the side of the caleche, hoping by the noise to scare the wolves from the side, so as to give him a chance of reaching the trap. How he came there, I know not, but I heard his voice raised in a tone of imperious command, and looking towards the sound, saw him stand in the roadway. As he swept his long arms, as though brushing aside some impalpable obstacle, the wolves fell back and back further still. Just then a heavy cloud passed across the face of the moon, so that we were again in darkness. When I could see again the driver was climbing into the caleche, and the wolves disappeared. This was all so strange and uncanny that a dreadful fear came upon me, and I was afraid to speak or move. The time seemed interminable as we swept on our way, now in almost complete darkness, for the rolling clouds obscured the moon. —Dracula, Bram Stoker A scent evocative of a forest at midnight, with animalic brown musk, wild sage, Terebinth pine, black oak, and a chilly shock of terror personified by kunzea, cistus labdanum, verbena, juniper, metallic ozone, and white mint. Cursory review: a cool, crisp scent, evocative of chilly night air, over some of the sexiest primal musks I've ever smelled from BPAL. I didn't get any pine/wood notes once it hit my skin, and little to no ozone, which I usually amp into headache-inducing volumes. If only Wolf Moon or Lycaon had smelled like this! I need to sneak it onto my husband to see how he wears it.
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ALL SOULS A day of remembrance and intercession. Without the prayers and sacrifices of their families and loved ones, the faithful departed may not be cleansed of their venal sins, and thereby cannot attain beatific vision. On November 2nd, prayers are sung and offerings are made to aid lost souls in transcending purgatory. An incense blend that invokes the higher qualities of mercy and compassion, mingled with the soft, sugared currant scent of offertory soul cakes. When I first put this on, I could mainly smell soft incense. I thought that it was my imagination until I re-read the description. I can smell buttery cake notes in the background, but mostly I smell soft incense and what I think is the currant note, rather sharp coming out from behind the incense. My skin will tend to amp the sweet, but maybe others will smell more of the foody notes. I think that this is a lovely combination of foody and incensy, which for me is the best of both worlds
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ECCLESIASTICAL EXCESSES Hark, Ambrosio, while I unveil your crimes! You have shed the blood of two innocents; Antonia and Elvira perished by your hand. That Antonia whom you violated, was your Sister! That Elvira whom you murdered, gave you birth! Tremble, abandoned Hypocrite! Inhuman Parricide! Incestuous Ravisher! Tremble at the extent of your offences! And you it was who thought yourself proof against temptation, absolved from human frailties, and free from error and vice! Is pride then a virtue? Is inhumanity no fault? Know, vain Man! That I long have marked you for my prey: I watched the movements of your heart; I saw that you were virtuous from vanity, not principle, and I seized the fit moment of seduction. I observed your blind idolatry of the Madonna's picture. I bade a subordinate but crafty spirit assume a similar form, and you eagerly yielded to the blandishments of Matilda. Your pride was gratified by her flattery; Your lust only needed an opportunity to break forth; You ran into the snare blindly, and scrupled not to commit a crime which you blamed in another with unfeeling severity. It was I who threw Matilda in your way; It was I who gave you entrance to Antonia's chamber; It was I who caused the dagger to be given you which pierced your Sister's bosom; and it was I who warned Elvira in dreams of your designs upon her Daughter, and thus, by preventing your profiting by her sleep, compelled you to add rape as well as incest to the catalogue of your crimes. Hear, hear, Ambrosio! Had you resisted me one minute longer, you had saved your body and soul. The guards whom you heard at your prison door came to signify your pardon. But I had already triumphed: My plots had already succeeded. Scarcely could I propose crimes so quick as you performed them. You are mine, and Heaven itself cannot rescue you from my power. Hope not that your penitence will make void our contract. Here is your bond signed with your blood; You have given up your claim to mercy, and nothing can restore to you the rights which you have foolishly resigned. Believe you that your secret thoughts escaped me? No, no, I read them all! You trusted that you should still have time for repentance. I saw your artifice, knew its falsity, and rejoiced in deceiving the deceiver! You are mine beyond reprieve: I burn to possess my right, and alive you quit not these mountains. —The Monk, MG Lewis Faustian depravity: daemonorops, rose-infused frankincense, vetiver, mate absolute, and clove bud. I really hoped that since this has so many notes of WIN for me (daemondrops, vetiver, clove, frankincense) that Ecclesiastical Excesses would be a spicy incense perfume with just a hint of rose. Once again, rose takes over everything else and amps to !SOAP! After the drydown, it has mellowed to a frankincense-rose blend, but nothing more. Disappointed.
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This season's Ridiculous Scent! Creepy like Creepy and as spooky as Spooky, this is the scent of a black cherry and coconut amaretto confection gently laced with saffron. OMG.. Yum! In the bottle .. when I sniffed it, I closed my eyes and said ‘yum’ … it’s a delicious almond note.. like amaretto… on the skin it’s even more gorgeous. The saffron is stunning in this. It’s a sweet cherry scent with the elegance of the saffron keeping it in line and at the very end, I get a tasty coconut! Love this! It’s very me. However, it sure doesn’t stick around! It ends up being something super soft.. almost a skin scent. I can't barely smell it now.
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I grew up in Los Angeles, and spent most of my Halloweens here. Of all the Halloween nights, one stands out the strongest in my memory. When I was in third grade, the hills behind my parent’s house were on fire. The fire was growing, and it was close; we were on evacuation watch all that night. The fire was massive: the skyline was vibrant, electric orange, and I couldn’t stop staring at it. It felt like noon at midnight to me. The smoke penetrated everything, drowning out the scent of my grandmother’s caramel apples. Halloween in Los Angeles has a peculiar scent, and there always seems to be something ablaze here. To me, Halloween in Los Angeles will forever smell like fire and fascination. The sky on fire: a strange incense of burning brush, junegrass, tumbleweeds, chaparral, and wild sage. I am so incredibly excited about this one. I believe that the first thing I ever posted in the "Fantasy Island" part of the board was the hope for a Santa Ana Wind or California wildfire scent. I effectively got Santa Anas with Windy Moon last year (that's how it smells on me, anyway!), and now here's the fire! The fact that Halloween: Los Angeles is thus tagged with time and place makes it even more appealing to me, since Southern California + October = Fire in my mind. The Esperanza Fire in 2006 was huge and occurred in the last week of October and was my first exposure to this phenomenon; the series of fires in 2007 were even bigger, and led to blood red moons right around Halloween. The 2008 season got worse in November, and 2009 did its worst in September, but the connection between fire and Halloween in the greater L.A. area was already set for me. So I'm excited for that, but also for the notes - all of the desert-y scents I've tried so far have been good on me, and I also generally do well with smoke scents, so this bodes well. In the bottle: First sniff is actually kind of syrupy sweet, but it becomes more smoky before I even finish breathing in. There is definitely oh-so-familiar dried grasses and brush behind that smoke. Wet on skin: The initial impression of sweetness is gone. This is all about smoke and dry brush right now. There's maybe something a little spicy about the brush, but really, it's dry dry dry and incendiary. I can't pick out the individual plants, but this definitely smells like a southern California hillside. Drydown: Freshly dry, the initial sweet note is sort of back, though nowhere near as strong as in the bottle. It still goes away quickly within one sniff, and leaves smoke and dry brush. I still can't pick out one plant from another, but that's the chaparral ecosystem for you! At one hour in, the sweet note has disappeared again. The smoke has also become more intense, which totally makes sense, since that's generally what happens the longer a fire burns! It's a very dry smoke, and underneath it is still all that dry chaparral. Five hours later: There's no appreciable difference between now and the one hour mark, actually. It's the same blend of smoke and heated dry grasses and brush. Not much of a change in intensity, either. End of the day: A bit of smoke and a bit of ozone. Still very present. Overall: Funny thing here: if I were to go outside and the air smelled like this, I would go, "OH CRAP" and start thinking about evacuation routes while loading irreplaceable things into my car. But the air does not smell like this right now; it's the oil on my wrist, and in this context, it's an awesome smell. That is to say, this really well and truly does smell like a late summer California brushfire. It's exactly the right combination of plants under the right ridiculous heat, and from there, it only makes sense that there's a lot of smoke. When the smell is not coming from an actual fire, I can appreciate how it's a sort of strange semi-arid incense; I don't have to feel bad about thinking it's a good smell like I would if there were actually a wall of flame advancing down the mountain toward campus or something. In terms of related scents, I'd say the nearest relative is Windy Moon, which makes sense, since that was meant to be a hot dry wind with a hint of smoke (and since it smells like Santa Ana weather on me). This is a more specific scent, though - it really does get a location and a time of year into that bottle. Even if it weren't good on me, I'd keep it, for that association with what fall in southern California means. Luckily, it's actually good on me, too!
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DIA DE LOS ÑATITAS On November 8, the indigenous people of Bolivia share the day with the bones of their ancestors, a custom that has its roots in pre-Columbian Quechua / Aymara spiritual practise. Each person has seven souls, and one stays with the skull after a person dies. The seventh souls can visit loved ones in dreams, grant aid in times of need, perform miracles, and are empowered to bring bounty to the spirit's descendants. The skulls of a person's deceased ancestors are cleaned, blessed, and sanctified, and are brought home to reside with their living relatives. On the Day of the Skulls, these souls are honored, and thanks is given for the blessings they have granted in the previous year. Their skulls are taken from the home altars they reside in to a graveyard in order to receive a mass blessing. They are crowned with colorful knitted caps or gorgeous rings of fresh flowers, are given offerings of food, cocoa leaves, sweets, alcohol, and cigarettes, and are serenaded by street musicians. Hydrangea blossoms and rose petals, cigarette smoke, cocoa leaves, and chichi. i think i'm gonna like this one - it smells mellow, not at all sharp, and very unlike any other scents that i own. i think i'm smelling more hydrangea than rose - it gives the feeling of a "floral water" in its mellowness. like smelling blossoms outside, by a creek, very light and natural, not high-pitched. almost an orange-y tinge, like orange blossom water, in feeling...if i had to pin it down, but it's a floral i'm not familiar with - must be the hydrangea. i get more of the cigarette smoke from the bottle, and not so much on my skin, but whatever the smoke is doing, it's not an "ashtray-ish" feeling, as much as the very faint lingering of someone's cigarette in night air, and just adds a "dusky" quality, if that makes any sense. i don't smoke cigarettes, but love the smell and idea of tobacco as an offering, and it's more of that feeling. there's also something vaguely fruity or fermented, like raisins almost - think this might be chichi. there is a faint chocolate-iness as well, blending w/ the tobacco...dunno, this one's hard to describe - it's more atmospheric than note-y, if that makes any sense - in other words, very blended into one thing - for me this will be very wearable, as it feels watery - which i love, and not sharp, but mellow in tone. really like this one!!
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FLOR DE MUERTO The orange marigold, or zempasúchitl, has been one of Death's symbols since the pre-Columbian era. The yellow and orange petals are believed to represent the rays of the sun, bringing joy and light to the souls dwelling in the realm of the dead. These flowers surround Day of the Dead altars to guide the spirits to their offerings. out of the bottle this smells quite incredible - a very singular floral note, sweet and nectar-ish, golden in tone - it has a pure, light feeling to it. on my skin, i'm feeling this even more - it has a bit of spice, in the way that carnations have their own spiciness, but it's not like carnation - it really does have a sunny, uplifting quality to it, and very natural. wow. i can really smell the petals....and it's slightly dusky, but light somehow, while still having depth....this one really pulls you into it's flowery zone, it smells so realistic. LOVE THIS! it could work on a little girl or a mature woman.
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According to William Shepard Walsh, the Gentleman's Magazine for May of 1784 stated, "this is a constant ingredient at merrymaking on Holy Eve." He also quotes Vallancey's etymological speculation: "The first day of November was dedicated to the angel presiding over fruits, seeds, etc., and was therefore named La Mas Ubhal, -- that is, the day of the apple fruit, -- and being pronounced Lamasool, the English have corrupted the name to Lambs-wool." A popular holy day beverage in 18th century Ireland: roasted apples mashed into warmed milk and ale, with nutmeg, sugar, ginger, and clove. bottle: softly sweet, warm spiced milk. this is not the same jarring milk note that i get from milk moon 2007 though, it's far more soft. wet: i can definitely smell the ale as this warms a bit on my skin. it's not "boozy" per se, just there. i get the mashed apple scent too. the milk and spices have faded quite a bit to be almost just a faint trace. dry: very lovely. the milk note creeps back in after about 15-20 minutes and mixes well with the apple. this reminds me of baked apples, filled with oatmeal and spices and covered in cream. (edited for spelling idiocy)
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Based on a venerable French pontifical incense blend: monastic frankincense and myrrh, Damascus rose, Russian gardenia, cassia, and lily of the valley wafting on a chill Autumn wind. A celebration of the glory and suffering of the saints and matryrs of the Church. I tottered over to Black Broom to get this lovely - so glad i did! Bear with me, I really cant figure out why i love this so much, but it is really comforting and delicious! out of the bottle - smells just like Harvest Moon when you put it on - the part where it deepens into chocolatey dark corny bread. uhoh, i am hoping this isnt a mislabel! but its definately different from Harvest Moon out of the bottle, darker, softer. upon wearing - de - li - ci -ous!!!!! Its very dark and soft, i cant pick out any particular notes just see in my mind dark wood moulding, marble floor, woolen suits and maybe a little tobacco drydown - It gets a little lighter, like the florals are making a last desperate attempt to push their way through the dark softness, but then settles into a lovely softness, much like velvet but darker and smoother and lighter (is that possible! yes it is!). It has lasted a really long time on me, i put it on like 4 hours ago and i still can a sniffasniff.... This is my FAVORITE oil to date. I cannot stop sniffing my wrist in the most obsessive way! I also must state that this smells NOTHING like what i thought it would from the description!! I didnt immediatly order this when the LEs were announced because i was a little scared of the rose and gardenia aspect of All Saints - I have been having bad luck with florals lately - but whatever the "Autumn Chill" is seems like what helps it mix into something so indescibably formal, delicious and comforting! I wish it was cooler here, this is what i want my turtleneck sweaters to smell like, and makes me want to wear my glasses and a bun in my hair. In a sexy librarian way, of course! edited to add: i wore it again today and its less foody, more resinous, im feeling the church thing a lot more now. I realized that it reminds me exactly of that Claire McCardell Monastic dress, brown jersey with a hood from the 40's, severe and sexy but tres formal. Still hard to pick out any notes. Still feels lovely formal and soft, and yes, monastic.
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Clever little satirical poems in the style of epitaphs written to tease the living and ease grief over a loved one's passing. Xocolatl, tequila, copal incense, smoke-dried jalapeños, vanilla pods, and cajeta. I was initially afraid this wasn't going to like me, because peppers and me have a bad history, but such a surprise!! It was a strong vanilla, with a bit of pepper underneath. I kept sniffing it going.....wow.....does this seriously work, and it does!!! But the decant circle i'm in is full on this scent......;_; I will have to do some digging to get this!!! I need it!! It's soft, and spicy, and that usually doesn't happen!
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ENCROACHING MADNESS It is the strangest yellow, that wall-paper! It makes me think of all the yellow things I ever saw—not beautiful ones like buttercups, but old foul, bad yellow things. But there is something else about that paper—the smell! I noticed it the moment we came into the room, but with so much air and sun it was not bad. Now we have had a week of fog and rain, and whether the windows are open or not, the smell is here. It creeps all over the house. I find it hovering in the dining-room, skulking in the parlor, hiding in the hall, lying in wait for me on the stairs. It gets into my hair. Even when I go to ride, if I turn my head suddenly and surprise it—there is that smell! Such a peculiar odor, too! I have spent hours in trying to analyze it, to find what it smelled like. It is not bad—at first, and very gentle, but quite the subtlest, most enduring odor I ever met. In this damp weather it is awful, I wake up in the night and find it hanging over me. It used to disturb me at first. I thought seriously of burning the house—to reach the smell. But now I am used to it. The only thing I can think of that it is like is the COLOR of the paper! A yellow smell. There is a very funny mark on this wall, low down, near the mopboard. A streak that runs round the room. It goes behind every piece of furniture, except the bed, a long, straight, even SMOOCH, as if it had been rubbed over and over. I wonder how it was done and who did it, and what they did it for. Round and round and round—round and round and round—it makes me dizzy! I really have discovered something at last. Through watching so much at night, when it changes so, I have finally found out. The front pattern DOES move—and no wonder! The woman behind shakes it! Sometimes I think there are a great many women behind, and sometimes only one, and she crawls around fast, and her crawling shakes it all over. Then in the very bright spots she keeps still, and in the very shady spots she just takes hold of the bars and shakes them hard. And she is all the time trying to climb through. But nobody could climb through that pattern—it strangles so; I think that is why it has so many heads. They get through, and then the pattern strangles them off and turns them upside down, and makes their eyes white! If those heads were covered or taken off it would not be half so bad. I think that woman gets out in the daytime! And I'll tell you why—privately—I've seen her! I can see her out of every one of my windows! It is the same woman, I know, for she is always creeping, and most women do not creep by daylight. I see her on that long road under the trees, creeping along, and when a carriage comes she hides under the blackberry vines. I don't blame her a bit. It must be very humiliating to be caught creeping by daylight! —The Yellow Wallpaper, Charlotte Perkins Gilman A yellow smell. Old foul, bad yellow things. Honeysuckle, chrysanthemum, balsam, hydrangea, and helichrysum. Encroaching Madness - "Old foul, bad yellow things." You know what else is foul and yellow? Urine. That's exactly what this smells like when sniffing it in the bottle. It's so gross it's retch-inducing. I wasn't going to skin-test this one, but then someone in the Seattle Will Call thread mentioned how funny it would be if Beth made a scent that smelled horrible in the bottle but lovely on the skin, and I thought... hmmm... yeah, what if? So I hitched up my britches and jumped right in. And wouldn't you know... it actually smells gorgeous on my skin. I mean, so gorgeous that I couldn't stop huffing away at my skin, partly because I couldn't get over how something so god-awful could become so pretty, and partly because it was just so damn pretty. On my skin it's fairly light. I don't smell the honeysuckle at all (thankfully, since it's not a good note for me). I'm not sure what hydrangea or helichrysum smell like, so I don't know what was doing what on my skin, but it is a gentle floral that is very sweet and incredibly feminine, pretty, and soothing. It's such a gorgeous floral that I'm tempted to find a bottle, or at least a partial bottle of my own. And if I wouldn't have built up the courage to try it out, I'd have never known how pretty it would actually turn out to be. It may smell like urine in the bottle, but on my skin, it's really, really lovely.
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ODD PORTENTS "Isaac, you dreamed your ill dream on this Wednesday morning. What time was it when you saw the fair woman with the knife in her hand?" Isaac reflected on what the landlord had said when they had passed by the clock on his leaving the inn; allowed as nearly as he could for the time that must have elapsed between the unlocking of his bedroom door and the paying of his bill just before going away, and answered. "Somewhere about two o'clock in the morning." His mother suddenly quitted her hold of his neck, and struck her hands together with a gesture of despair. "This Wednesday is your birthday, Isaac, and two o'clock in the morning was the time when you were born." —Brother Morgan's Story of the Dream-Woman, Wilkie Collins Black rose, olibanum, dark musk, myrrh, blackcurrant, lavender buds, bourbon geranium, and amber incense. Odd indeed! Portents in here are amazing. There is fruit in this. Black currant is peeking through along with the lavendar with the barest hints of rose. There is something fruity, dark, and sensual about this. I don't smell the myrrh or the black musk. Everything is so well blended that nothing dominates. It's just kind of all mish mashed in there to create this heavenly scent. This is definitely a keeper!
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On All Saints Day, Spanish families visit their loved ones in the cemeteries, keeping vigil throughout the evening, saying prayers for the dead. Family burial plots are cleaned and tended, and graves are adorned with gladiolas, chrysanthemums, and roses. Bone-shaped pastries called Saint's Bones, or the Bones of the Holy, are baked and shared in honor of the souls in Purgatory, and to remind us of those who no longer share our repast, but with whom we one day hope to be reunited with again. Orange-glazed cake, dotted with anise seed, and filled with custard, set beside a bouquet of celebratory funeral flowers. Hello deliciousness! This smells just like orange poppyseed cake with a thick layer of custard cream in the middle. (it also kind reminded me of the dry smell of orange fruit loops) This is the first bpal that has any kind of "cake" scent that works for me. All the others made me sneeze. But this is just wonderful without being cloyingly sweet. Nom
