Macha

In recent discussions on this forum, I mentioned that my handle is commonly referred to as one of the aspects of the Morrigan, and so a number of people were quick to point out that I had better try Phantom Queen and that right fast. I had thought about buying an imp with my next order, but when I unexpectedly found myself at Black Broom, and just as unexpectedly found they had a bottle of this...well...how could I resist? In the Bottle: I will admit that I'm having no little trouble identifying any distinguishing notes, except to say that it's floral, it's sweet, and it's VERY strong. Smells like perfume (and by that I mean one of those exceedingly complex high end perfumes, where it's impossible to make out individual notes) and smells like expensive perfume at that. Wet, on skin: I have either put on too much, or this has a hell of a throw. I'll have to be careful with this, because it could easily cause a headache. I spent a lot of time trying to decide if I even like this, although in classic BPAL fashion, I can't stop smelling my arm. It smells floral, but also grassy, very crisp and a bit wild. There's something dark about this, which is strange because the notes are all sweet and light. Dry, on skin: It takes me most of the day to figure out what's the deal with this fragrance. I've never really encountered anything quite like it. It's a soft floral, and in some ways it reminds me of Unseelie, but it's not gentle. In fact I never thought I'd encounter a perfume that smelled of grass and flowers that was so menacing. This is the olfactory equivalent to standing in a gorgeous meadow on a clear day — with the birds singing and the smell of flowers all around you — then stubbing your toe on a rock, and realizing that rock is actually a skull, and further that the tall grass hides thousands just like it. Conclusion: This is a gorgeous tribute to the Morrigan, and rather uncanny. This is a kick-butt, take no prisoners scent for a woman of incredible confidence, poise and sophistication. I have a character in one of my novels who is an elven warrior-queen of considerable ruthlessness and power. This fragrance makes me think of her to such an extent that I may well wear it to put me in the mood to write about her. Thanks to everyone who told me I should pick this up!

It IS scary. I absolutely agree. On the other hand, I would never have discovered the brilliance that is Aunt Caroline's Money Draw if I hadn't taken that blind chance! Perversion though...*smacks head*...gah! Of course. I absolutely should have remembered Perversion. Fantastic scent, complicated, nuanced and very, very evocative. One of these days I really do need to pick up a bottle of that stuff.

I bought a bottle of Ophelia, unsniffed, because of the "what smells like LEs" discussion where a number of people mentioned they thought Ophelia was a good stand in for my precious, precious Rose Red. So... In the bottle: Florals, a little rose, and an aquatic note that tickles my nose like champagne or some other bubbly alcohol. It does smell very delicate, very pale, very fragile. Wet, on skin: I do not find this smell pleasant. In fact, it reminds me of nothing so much as cheap permanent wave setting solution. I am not at all pleased, particularly since it seems to have a healthy throw. I bemoan the fact that I have indeed managed to buy a bottle of something that it looks like I'm going to loathe.... Dry, on skin: Or have I? As I finish having breakfast with my boyfriend (pineapple pancakes, yum!) I start to catch whisps of a clean, crisp, rather refreshing rose scent, and yes indeed, it turns out that I'm the source. It's not a perfect match of Rose Red, but the more I smell this, the more it's growing on me. It seems to have fine staying power, and excellent throw, and I think I'm beginning to understand why Ophelia is so well loved (by BPAL fans, if not by a certain Prince of Denmark.) Conclusion: Despite a bad beginning, I think this could be a winner.

I ordered this because of the discussion on the forum where Loup Garou was compared to Mistletoe, and since I had very much wanted that fragrance but missed out on it, I figured I would buy the next best thing. In the bottle: Juniper and Eucalyptus, strong enough to clear the sinuses. Woah! That's pure Vics Vap-O-Rub, that's what that is! And um...ahem...it's quite lovely. (But I've always liked the smell of Vics!) Wet, on skin: This is a strong forest smell, very strong indeed. I love this forest! It's very vibrant and exuberantly alive. The Juniper and Eucalyptus both tickle my nose. Yes, it's medicinal, but it's a lovely forest medicinal. It lifts my spirits tremendously. Dry, on skin: As this dries, it mellows into something much softer and very pretty. I was having trouble identifying what I was smelling until I went back and saw this scent contains galengal, which is a fascinating and highly aromatic spice I adore. Lovely. Occassionally I catch quite unexpected throws of juniper, over 12 hours after the original application. Conclusion: I don't know that I would wear this every day (as if I wear any of my fragrances every day... ) but Loup Garou does have definite appeal. It is, as one reviewer said, a nice change of pace from many of the other sweet or flowery perfumes in my collection. This is a bracing, eye-opening scent, and I'm very glad I bought it.

This was a complete and total impulse buy, completely the fault of some folks here on the forum who started going on about pretty this scent was. Since it was my "compulsive shopping" phase of the moon (i.e., full) I decided to add a bottle of this to my order. In the Bottle: Sweet fig, dark chocolate, and cedar. The fig floats above the chocolate, and the cedar gives them both depth. Which is a fancy-schmancy way of saying this really works well, a perfume where I can tell the individual components but where they all cooperate as a whole. By that is just in the bottle... Wet, on skin: On my skin, the fig is not quite as intense as it is when I smelled the bottle, but fig is still the first and primary note I smell. I use dried figs quite a bit in my cooking, but this isn't the honey-sweetness of such: this is fresh fig, green fig, the sort of fig that is rare, fragile and delicate. The cocoa makes this seem like a particularly choice french desert — fresh fig drizzled in dark chocolate — not too sweet, but still rich and satisfying. Dry, on skin: As the scent ages, the wood notes (a little cedar, perhaps a little sandalwood) come into play, but the funny thing is that I honestly expected a perfume called 'Intrigue' to be more of a shapechanger. On me, Intrigue is remarkably stable, and changes little. If anything, it simply mellows and grows more languid. Conclusion: Lovely and different, Intrigue lives up to its name. It has good throw, excellent staying power, and on me at least, smells lovely. As impulse buys go, I would judge this one a success.

Believe me, Black Phoenix is ALL cherry and almond, all the time.

Ooo! Did I forget to review this one? My little imp of Havisham (kindly decanted by Ivyandpeony for me) is no longer in my possession, but I do remember that it was not something that agreed with me. Within minutes...nay...within seconds, of hitting my skin, Havisham turned into industrial strength soap and stayed that way for the rest of the day. Me and my fickle, unforgiving chemical relationship with rose scents strikes again. This made me sad. On the good side, I knew the imp would find another loving home, and indeed, it did.

Have you tried Siren? that's white ginger, vanilla, jasmine and a little apricot, and a lot of people comment that white ginger can smell very citrus.

I'd like to add that I highly doubt you'll find a perfect match, particularly since the Lab isn't trying to copy other commercial perfumes, per se. But you may find something with the same qualities as what you love, even if it's not identical.

Well, certainly there is some evidence in support of chocolate, because of the seratonin levels. Bliss, anyone? (I love Intrigue too, and Spooky just made it on to my TOM "list" for me.) And lavender IS supposed to be an anti-depressant in aromatherapy, and apparently so is sage — so you may wish to investigate the effects of perfumes like Corazon and Chiroptera that have both. I've noticed that many of the voodoo oils seem to have citrus components (lemongrass, I would assume,) and often have a base note that smells very much like geranium to my untrained nose. I would expect High John the Conquerer to smell like...well...High John root, but there certainly may be something to that. Another voodoo oil you might want to look at Aunt Caroline's Joy Mojo. I hear good things about that one.

Hopefully someone who has tried either of these will throw in their two cents....but let's see. Namaste is Sandalwood, jasmine, rose, patchouli, cedarwood and lemongrass. Queen Mab is black orchid, sandalwood, night-blooming jasmine, osmanthus, Somalian rose, and Chinese musk. Tamora is Amber, heliotrope, golden sandalwood, peach blossom and vanilla bean. Jesibel is honey, roses, orange blossom and sandalwood. You might also want to take a serious look at Morocco, which contain Arabian spices, warm musk, carnation, red sandalwood and cassia (which is another type of cinnamon.) and Sin, which drops the brighter notes in favor of amber, sandalwood, black patchouli and cinnamon. Hope this helps!

I've been stocking up on chocolate scents for this purpose. I don't know the medicinal powers of essential oils for this sort of thing, but I smile when I smell chocolate. That counts, right?

Heh. I almost pushed Dracul at her, but I've become such a Dracul cheerleader I thought I'd give it a rest. (go Dracul!) I didn't find Intrigue to be terribly complex (at least not with my chemistry) but I do like it a lot, so I would agree it's worth investigating. I think it'll be interesting to see how some of the new stuff turns out too. A number the recent introductions sound like they might well hit the spot for complex gourmand fragrances.

The dry, glorious warmth of the Savannah. A golden, spiced amber, proud, regal and ferocious. I bought this because I have two different friends I'm trying to enable with BPAL, and upon questioning them for their scent preferences, I discovered that they share a common love of amber single-notes. Well, of course BPAL no longer offers an amber single note, and since amber is often the base note in a fragrance, it's rarely what first hits the nose in a perfume. I decided to order either Bastet or the Lion, and after reading the reviews, decided they'd probably like the Lion best. Of course, I had to try some myself, right? In the bottle: Sweet amber, with a very unexpected and delightful citrus note. I must remind myself that it is NOT okay to drink BPAL, no matter how delicious a fragrance smells. There is a faint cardamom/cinnamon spiciness, hiding in the background. Because of the name, I'm humorously reminded of a lion hiding in tall grass. Wet, on skin: Soft, sweet cardamom, golden and beautiful. This mixes so well with the amber. It's a clingy, sexy, second-skin sort of scent, as I would expect an amber to be, but the spice keeps it interesting. What is causing that citrus note? Is it the amber? You know, I think it is. Mmm....this is so pretty. Dry, on skin: Tea? I didn't expect to hit a tea note, but that sure smells like tea. Not just any tea mind you, but the best marsala chai — just a little sweet, just a little spicy, over a base of creamy black tea. My eyes just about roll back into my head every time I sniff my wrists. This is so gentle, beautiful, rich...words fail. Conclusion: 5ml is not enough of this perfume. I need vats of this stuff. Beautiful!!

I'd like to add that in my opinion, many of the Lab's most complex, nuanced scents seem to be deity-ritual oils, tarot oils, and (probably) the Sepheroth. The Orisha series of oils, while I haven't tried them all, seem to be very, very complex, often containing either a fruity or gourmand component. Having read the descriptions of the Tarot oils, there seems to be a whole lot going on there as well. I have little doubt the Sepheroth contain similiar complexity of notes. As for those fragrances I have personally tried, I would agree that Dia De Los Muertos is divine. If you like incense-rich complexity, I would also recommend Anubis, which is nothing short of extraordinary.

Bewitched is lovely, but didn't strike me as foresty (your chemistry may be different though.) Dublin is just lovely beyond belief, IMHO.

I bought this...well...I bought this because of Kebechet. That's a bit of 'duh!' I know, but when I found out that Kebechet was the name of one of the daughters of Anubis, it began to cross my mind that Beth must have put quite a bit of work into this oil. The oil for her metaphorical "father" would have to be perfect, wouldn't it? A labor of real love (which is not to say that's not true of all her oils.) Still, it seemed to me that Anubis would have to be something very special...I ordered a 5ml bottle, unsniffed. In the Vial: Sweet, resiny...is that honey? Gods, I hope not. The honey Beth uses in her blends doesn't tend to like me at all. It would even be appropriate, now that I think about it: the antibacterial properties of honey and its use as a preservative were well known to the Egyptians. Imhotep was quite fond of the medicinal use of honey. Despite this promise of honey, I annoint myself. Wet, on skin: Myrrh, and insense, and the slightly anticeptic woody smell of balsam. The sweetness is still there, but it's an afterthought rather than an over-powering top note. The herbs...hmm...how very hard to describe. I would expect a complicated mix, which may be why I'm having trouble isolating specific notes. A little research reveals that amongst the many, many herbs and spices that are mentioned in connection to funerary rites are: aloe, cassia, thyme, camphor, beeswax, fir resin, pine resins, palm wine, raisins, sandalwood, cedar, juniper, cardamon, fig, saffron, ritual "kyphi" insense (itself a complex mix of ingredients) and attar of rose. No wonder I'm having problems picking out individual notes! Dry, on skin: What a wonderful fragrance. Warm, sweet, glowing, comforting, and quite beautiful. I'm picking up a little bit of a rose scent too, but it may be my imagination since I'm hardly a pro about picking out notes. I think it's quite lovely though. The spices and incense have mixed in a thoroughly delightful way. Conclusion: Why doesn't Anubis get more love? This is a glorious scent, rich and resinous and wonderful. It's not morbid or dark at all, which is as it should be, in my opinion. ETA: Add stupidly long-lasting to the list. One application on me stayed true and strong for 24 hours. I woke up the next morning smelling Anubis wafting around me in a glorious and comforting cloud of golden scent. Divine!

I wasn't sure about this one. Buttery rum? Eww. Coconut? Double eww. But ordered it anyway (indeed, I ordered two bottles of it) because it seemed like one of those holy grail scents that I would regret not having experienced, given the opportunity. In the Bottle: Woah. How did Beth DO that? It's a Girl Scout thin-mint cookie in a bottle. It's the Chocolate Moroccan Mint tea lattes from Coffee, Bean & Tea leaf in perfume form. An incredible swoon-worthy blast of chocolate and mint. Incredible. Wet, on skin: On my skin the buttery rum immediately comes to the foreground, with a little of the vanilla and coconut. To my surprise, this is no way unpleasant, but very much conjures up images of cookies. The peppermint cocoa smell stays in the background, present (and very much wafting) but willing to share the party. Everybody wants cookies, right? Dry, on skin: Ah, Spooky, I love thee. How shall I count the ways? I love the way you smell like buttered rum cookies, yet don't make me gag. I love the way the chocolate mint lingers in the background, a velvet-wrapped embrace of olfactory delight. I love the way I don't smell coconut...at all. I love how giddy, silly and happy you make me feel. Conclusion: Unless this scent takes some sort of terribly sour detour as it dries, I can safely say I adore Spooky. A silly, happy, perky scent that I guarantee will likely be a certain mood-lifter in the days ahead. Considering the timing and reason for this pick-me-up's release as a limited edition oblation, I think that's probably quite appropriate.

Pele. I hear the Maiden and the Unicorn are both gentle and soft, but I haven't tried them.

Yes, I've gotten a temporary doh from Snake Oil. Turned out my Snake oil was too new. The older the oil aged, the less play-doh came to play. Chemistry (and that time of the month) is also a factor for me.

I was doing some looking on line for information about "Has No Hanna" (Trying to answer your pronounciation question, Penance!) and I did notice that one of the most common "uses" listed for this is...you guessed it...help with job interviews!!!

Indeed, I would agree. I would go far as to say you have a lot of wiggle room to not only pick out a scent that is historically in line with your desired effect, but fits the personality of the personna you have created. One more comment: the big advantage of Catherine has got to be bragging rights. "What's that perfume you're rearing?" "Oh, it's an old recipe used by Catherine di Medici...." You'll be the envy of the Court!

Take all this with a grain of salt: I'm remembering most of this from a faulty memory of discussions that took place years ago. "Most" although probably not all medieval perfume would have been in the form a scented fan or article of clothing or pomander, and I remember hearing that rose would have been, hands down, the most popular scent for a woman, followed by jasmine, rosemary, lavender, orange blossom and violets. Perfumers in the medieval world were probably more sophisticated than most people give credit: consider that the society of the day believed that disease could be spread through bad odors, and prevented through pleasant ones. Perfumery was considered an vital component in the prevention of illness, something that's only now coming back into vogue with aromatheraphy. Other common components in perfumes would have included sandlewood, clove, nutmeg, myrtle, thyme, deer musk, ambergris, amber, storax, frankensence, myrrh, balsam and amber. Also throw in...oh...probably orris, civet, cinnamon, and herbs like thyme, marjoram and basil. That's quite a lot to work with. I would expect a medieval blend to be very strong, since its scent-masking qualities would be considered of highest virtue. Catherine does seem to fit that qualification. I imagine the newly released Rose Cross would also be excellent. Hymn, Black Rose, Seraglio, Delight and Venice also sound like they might fit the bill. And if you hate rose? Medea, Cathedral, Sacred Whore of Babylon, Sophia and Scherezade might also work. I don't remember hearing anything about carnation being used, but in spite of that Masquerade has some great medieval ingredients. So many of Beth's blends are either based off of Medieval inspiration or use the same sorts of ingredients that I can't imagine it would be too hard for you to find an appropriate scent.

This imp was sweetly gifted to me from Witch's Dagger, for no other reason than because she felt like it (SO sweet!) I had it on my wishlist as a bit of a lark. Now, I should add that I don't like black licorice. Nope. Not one tiny eeny bitty bit. In fact, I will go so far as to say that nothing will send me screaming from a room quite as quickly as a strong black licorice scent. Licorize altoids? You're joking, right? *shudder* In the Vial: Anise, with a little bit of a citrus kick. And...oh thank heavens. It's not the super strong artificial licorice scent that I've come to loathe. This is the sweet light scent of fresh anise plants, the sort that grew like weeds in the vacant lot down the street from where I grew up. This is more like using a little fennel in your wine sauce, rather than hard black licorice candies. Wet, on skin: This hits my skin and immediately turns to a bright green juicy citrus. Wow. That's actually gorgeous. This isn't lemon cleaner, no sir. The anise in the background keeps it from being too bland, and there are a number of subtle scents (the mints and other ingredients, although I'm never consciously aware of them) that stir this scent in lovely ways. Clean, vibrant, and very nice. If Absinthe had stayed like this (with more staying power) Absinthe would have taken a surprise leap into my top 10. The wet stage is THAT nice. Dry, on skin: As it dries, the anise gains a little more predominance, as I knew it had to when the top-note lemon went away. But this is okay, more than okay. This is rather more like the candy-coated fennel seeds they serve at Indian restaurants. But then...ah hell. A few minutes after this stage, the scent vanishes. If I sniff very closely at my wrists I can smell lingering traces of a very faintly anise-scented, clean, fresh smell. It smells like I just stepped out of the shower after washing up with Villainess's Dirty Laundry soap. Conclusion: I really like this! Such a tragedy that my skin eats it up so quickly. From start to gone was about an hour, and I'm not so fond of reapplying scents quite that quickly. I can't say if this smells just like absinthe or not, but the absolutely amazing thing about this blend is the restrained hand with which it has been crafted. It's not cloying or super sweet, which would have been an easy trap for a licorice/anise blend to fall into. Indeed, the very fact that I like this as a licorice scent is nothing short of miraculous. All hail Beth!

I bought an imp of this from the lab, since I was hoping to find a scent evocative of picking blackberries in the summer when I was young. In the vial: Oooh. This is very much the smell of blackberry sage tea. A light, sweet berry scent that is really quite beautiful. Wet, on skin: Blackberries! This is simple, true, and juicy. The blackberry smell is very sweet and vivid, but less evocative of the wilderness that I'd hoped. Not that such is bad in any way. After a little bit, this starts to smell almost candle-ish on me, but it's still a dead ringer for blackberry sage tea with lots of sugar. I can easily see where this might be too much for some people. Dry, on skin: The berries fade a little, allowing the sage and musk to have more of a say in matters. I like this stage quite a lot, since it lends some desperately needed complexity to the blackberries. It dries down quite pleasantly. Conclusion: While I don't need a bottle of this right this instant, I would by no means object to having a large bottle should the opportunity present itself. I find that this is a playful, straightforward fruity blend that delivers exactly what it promises. It has excellent throw and staying power, and would be fabulous in the summertime.