suileach

Harvest Moon is celebrated in almost every culture, and the bounty of the season is marked in a myriad of ways. Harvest Moon touches the Equinox, the festival of Janus, the culmination of Homowo, the "crying of the neck" in Cornwall, and the Women's Festival of the Moon. This is a day that celebrates abundance and beauty, fertility and progress, and the light of this full moon blesses new undertakings and reunites lost loves. The Harvest Moon, by definition, is the Full Moon that falls closest to the Autumnal Equinox, and thus, it shares some of that Sabbat's characteristics. This Full Moon was thus named because it rises within half an hour of the sun's setting, in the Northern Hemisphere, and at this time farmers are able to work longer into the night by the light of this Moon. As the year draws to a close, the Full Moon rises an average of fifty minutes later each night, with the exception of a few nights surrounding the Harvest Moon, which only rises 10-30 minutes later. This moon is also, to the human eye, the fullest and largest of the year's Moons, hanging gloriously huge, yellow and low in the night sky, and many lunar illusions play tricks our eyes at this time. The Harvest ushers in many celebrations, including the Equinox and the Festival of Janus, God of Doors. Janus is the Roman Lord of Gateways, beginnings and endings, and transitions. Thus, the Harvest Moon is a time for blessing new ventures, the onset of new and progressive phases in one's life, and rites of passage into adulthood. This time of year also marks one of the Festivals of Dionysus, Lord of Ecstasy and the Vine. This Harvest lunacy combines the autumnal scents of balsam fir, cedar, juniper berry, clove, saffron, damson plum, sage, black cherry, and fennel with the crushed wine grapes of Dionysus and Janus' lingum aloes. Wine 'n pine fir. Has an astringent scent at the start and it smells more like a winter blend due to the powdery fir. But it warms as it sits on the skin, the wine becoming more full-bodied, and the plum becoming sweeter. Wine and grape notes don't typically work on me, so I'm impressed by this one, which doesn't go all grape-candy on me. Sage is also present, lingering around the edges of the scent to lend a distinct herbal touch. Clove only makes itself known on drydown, and it works as an accent rather than overpowering the blend. Ultimately, this is a great, seasonally-evocative scent, but one I would be far more likely to use as a room spray or tart. It doesn't really suit me as a perfume. It should be liked by fans of L'Inverno and The Shivering Boy.

Hm! Light floral, watery bluegreen in nature. Gardenia, are you there? Something in that waxy-white floral category, anyway. My nose also detects something a bit spicy, almost like pimento (though I sincerely doubt there's any of that in this blend) and a vague, breezy, bergamot-like citrus. It reminds me every so faintly of a commercial perfume my grandmother used to wear, possibly Wind Song. Misty, floaty, feminine. I actually...like this. It's a floral and an aquatic, and I like it! Will wonders never cease?

In a word: creamy. In more: The creamy undertone of this greatly gentles the florals - jasmine is a Big Big No for me in everything else I've tried, but this *might* be workable, if it continues to behave. In the vial, I got only a faint whiff of the Celery Peanut Butter smell that my nose typically gets from jasmine. The olive blossom rounds this out - overall, an almost green, Spring-like floral. Thick, waxy, heavily-scented hyacinth petals and a woodsy, somewhat gourmand cream. A lovely surprise! ..Later: Still gorgeous. Mmm. The cinnamon really helps this scent form a coherent whole and perhaps, as I amp it, assists in the drowning of the jasmine. Overall:

Much sweeter than I was expecting. It reminds me a bit of Faeu Boulanger, which is amusing, as I was trying out Death Cap in the hopes of finding a dirt and decaying matter blend over which I could layer Faeu Boulanger to ground it! I'm quite liking Death Cap all on its own, though. It's sweet, soft, green and misty, with a hint, as it dries, of crumbling mushroom cap. ...Okay, and now it's turning to sunscreen. I do finally detect some dirt in here, but it's buried under the great big glob of Banana Boat that someone spilled all over said dirt. Normally I like blends reminiscent of that particular scent, but this is just much too sweet, cloying, and powdery.

In vial: Soft green, herbal, luminescent. On me: Mint comes out! So pretty and refreshing. It has the same feel as a cucumber melon type scent - that cooling, pale green feel - but, unlike those, I quite like this. Some time later: Oh my goat, this is gorgeous! The violets have come out to play now, but they're actually behaving themselves and just lending a poignant sweetness to the mint. So creamy and sweet! Between this and Torture Queen, I smell wonderful! This is fantastic. If I can get over my 'if I wear mint, people will think I've spilled toothpaste on myself!' mental block, I'll like it even more.

Smooth, electric, bright white. The tea and ambergris are the big players on my skin, with the gardenia, musk and ozone-like chrome lending support. It's oceany, in a way, and reminds me a bit of Kiyohime Changes From A Serpent and R'lyeh. Just...brighter, and less murky than those scents. I'm waiting to see if the tea will continue to behave - I often get a harsh, metallic drydown from it. Crossing my fingers, because this is fantastic, and a big change from the types of scents I normally wear. Wow, this really softens; I'd almost say it gets fuzzy as it dries. It's all rounded corners now; the chrome has lost its blinding gleam. It's a creamy, almost downy musk and ambergris, with the tea and gardenia still lending an uplifting quality. The drydown several hours later isn't as impressive; it's blandly musky and too muted. I'll give this a few more tries before making a decision. I do love the first few hours of wear.

Huh. When I opened this decant the first few times for sniffing, all I got was a big wallop of pine. Today, I get a big wallop of clove. Once it touches my skin, the vanilla comes out, sweet and warm. The sharp pine sap remains for a minute, but it's soon shoved out of place by cinnamon and clove. I smell like I've been rolling around with wanton abandon in my spice drawer. There is nothing subtle about this scent - if you want spicy, here it is!

This worried me in the vial, as the lilac was prominent and touched only lightly by a cool undercurrent of hyssop. The warmer notes come to life on my skin and for a brief time it becomes a warm, spicy floral - quite pleasant! - until the lilac once again rears it head, devouring the rest of the notes. And then my skin chemistry renders this truly disastrous indeed - I get this odd whiff of something funky, almost fishy from the throw at about 6" away. I don't know what went wrong, but I suspect that perhaps babylonian musk is the culprit, because that fishy note has a hint of powder to it. And when musks go bad, they go powdery. I feel as though this could be an incredibly lovely, unique blend on those with more cooperative skin chemistry. Sadly, I am not among those so blessed.

I just don't know how to describe this. It fits the inspiration so perfectly - a desiccated hand, yellowed and rough with sinew, dripping wax, and the sulfuric stench of a lit match... The bark note is dead on. Independently of reading the notes, I was thinking that I smelled bark. Indeed! It grows smokier after a few minutes. The hand, full of unholy mischief, does more than light the way; somehow, a fire starts. Parchment and dry leaves go up in flame; black ashes and soot scatter. Several hours later, the smoke and decay are gone, leaving behind a soft, mellow beeswax. This is an eerie, disquieting scent and quite an experience to follow through its various stages.

Whoa. Intensely sexy. Inez dances with you in a hot room, an old phonograph scratching out a love song. This is her scented hair, the humid weight of summer, her red heels tapping on the wooden floor, and the sweat beading between her breasts. From there, her perfume rises - musk, glowing amber, dry sandalwood, heat... Holy hell, this is sex in a bottle. Nothing like O's post-coital scent, but a feminine skin-scent reminiscent of desire and lust. It entices, draws you closer, heats the blood, brings words like 'devour' and, well, rather less coherent things, to the forefront of the mind. My skin almost completely eats this after an hour, but I certainly don't think I'll mind re-slathering this one. ...In short?

Gorgeous! Golden apples and glistening swirls of caramel are topped by a fluffy cloud of whipped cream. A wonderful dessert-like blend that positively sparkles with joy and pleasure. The caramel in this is positively luscious - so different, to my nose, than the usual BPAL caramel that unfortunately tends to turn to dust when it hits my skin. And, somehow, the teak doesn't turn on me either! This blend makes me feel like grinning from ear to ear. I love it! ...Sadly, the apple takes over after a half hour, stomping heartlessly all over the delicious cream and caramel and grinding them into nothing. Ah, but for a brief time, I thought I could actually wear apple...alas! A fleeting love affair.

Sniff test: Sophisticated, timeless, feminine. The honey - delicate and sweet - is the main note here, surrounded on all sides by an airy profusion of pink summer flowers in full bloom. It reminds me fleetingly of my grandmother - impeccably clean and lady-like. I'm not sure I'll be trying this one in the shower, as the scent seems a bit light and subtle for my soap preferences, but it really is lovely, and I look forward to smelling L'Estate in other forms.

An interesting scent of the woodsy-oriental type. Much less dry than I was expecting! There's a sweetness lying underneath, almost a tang of fruit. This smells rather like a masculine version of O - sex and powdery amber - the honey replaced by saffron and woody notes. The cedar is strong but functions mainly as a backdrop, grounding the sweet, heady golden amber. After an hour, it has become sweet enough to remind me of another phallic scent - Harikata. Overall: Pretty sexy! I amp sweet notes and amber, making this much less dry and incensey than I think it would otherwise have been. Very wearable for me personally, and a scent I would love to smell on someone else.

Looking at the notes, you don't think 'agony', but the oil as a whole has a bitter, lovelorn air to it. Dried up tears and burned love letters, indeed. Harsh with ozone and dusty keepsakes that bear a touch of an old love's perfume. It grows sweeter and fruitier over time, becoming somewhat like an angry version of Hungry Ghost Moon; then the lavender appears, rounding out the scent and bringing a new softness to it. It's a gentle, soothing lavender - the grogginess of too many tears sets in, and sleep comes to ease the pain.

Vial: Dirty. Earthy. Dry. On: Wow. Warms up intensely. It still has a dirty, gritty edge, but there seems to be a sweet evergreen like terebinth pine or juniper present. There's also a prickly, wintry berry. Five minutes elapse and the warming trend continues! I have only a brief time to wonder if amber is present when suddenly: AUGH. CAT LITTER. Oh gawd. This is not your simple, ordinary cat pee scent, but rather a deep medley of soggy clay and ammonia, with a soupcon of plastic tray.