bLissKite

testing notes: ooh, lovely. like heavenly beeswax mixed with some scent quality that feels like i only knew it in another lifetime. after wearing it for a day: nauseatingly creamy cloudy carnation. in turn, i love getting whiffs of it and then feel totally repulsed by it. fwiw: BF backed away w/ "no likee" face. final verdict: overall, HOD = a love/hate blend on me for the time being, and, all too often, hate wins, as even a dab doesn't sit well (and i'm not talented at layering scents yet). but it's so evocative of something special that i'm wondering if a cellared bottle will be just the ticket. i am incredibly enamored with the reality that HOD exists, but it's not at all wearable for me, at present. weird.

...like when a bird is really a waldorf salad made w/ canned fruits in sugar syrup.

i'm adding FAUNALIA here, since it kinda fizzes on me; i find this scent totally intriguing. and thanks, everyone, for keeping the recs coming... :>)

it's the most amazing thing: this smells so strongly of real flaky pastry, warm buttery, with puddles of sticky fruity filling. insane. how does beth do this? it's novelty fun to sniff, not really my thing to wear (though i might think about how to layer it, just for kicks). but i know it would make the most knockout room scent. seriously, you'd have neighbors knocking down your door in search of the delectable-smelling baked goodness you must have just taken from the oven. how fun, then, to tell them, 'ha ha, sucker, it's phantom seasonal pastry! go home hungry'. the perfect diabolical seasonal scent blend for the cruel grinches among us.

old man ackerman can take his, uh, toys and his instructions and go home. i'm no admirer. on me, it's the most chemical-drenched version of irish spring bar soap imaginable. thick with deodorizing ack. greeny green slippery palmolive dishsoap. floofy leprechaunical laundry detergent. zest fully clean. you get the idea. too bad, so sad.

alright, what is wrong with me that i get ...bright, fiery, scorched cumin seeds drowned in sugar syrup...? on my boyfriend, NWNE smells decidedly better, but still definitely un-yum in a similar way.

not so fast, darling bennu. i shall be swiping a few bottles of this myself!! oh, this is a most delicious scent; when i first sniffed it in the decant just now, i couldn't refrain from putting this one on, even though i swore to myself i'd test all of these decants later (however, the rest will have to get in line, b/c i want to spend some q.t. with Faunalia). this smells exactly like canada dry ginger ale on me. not reed's ginger brew or any other ginger ale, but canada dry -- like my gramps used to use as a mixer for his crown royal. mmmmm! it totally effervesces and, in that, feels musical to me. a tad more musky after drydown, which is also equally brilliant. i adore this.

iii i i iiii i i i i adoreADOREADOREADOREadoreAdoreAdore adore ADORE this scent. this isn't gonna be the structured review i intended to do for later reference; maybe i'll edit this sometime soon, but i just had to get this down before the scent wears off entirely (does not last long): adore ADOREadore adore.adore Adoreeee this is olde tyme seriously tart country lemonade, honeyed, w/a bright liquor wooze of fermentation to it. behind it, a smooth undercurrent of dusty salon room dark-wooded furniture oil... maybe a slight slight suggestion of sweet, spiced liqueur-soaked teacakes left behind. yeah, from a fin-de-ciecle... gentlemen's club afternoon tea? i'm pretty sure i wouldn't be interested in giving it a try if i read my scent description, but i'm so glad i'm getting to try something like this on. oh i love this scent. unexpectedly sharp and amazing! smell-o-vision shows me a sassed-up golden-skinned harlot of the most refreshingly direct variety, outspoken, sharp, mirthful. she glitters as she strides along in the dusty sunset breeze. she's the patron whoresaint of the hard luck crib girls. i find her vivacious and joyful, witty and sly. think: 'bettie page-y fresh' but 'rose mcgowan sultry'. and a working girl this patron saint looks after would show you a really wild time in her little bungalow, its gardenia and honeysuckle shrubs in full bloom outside her front window. kinky but classic, these crib girls. no matter how unabashed and wild her night of whoring, a crib girl manages to get up early on sunday mornings to make lemon curd by her grandmother's recipe. humming a pretty tune in a silk negligee. pretty much sexySEXsex of the fresh, gleeful variety. i heart this one aplenty! <3

alright then. we've been over this plenty. you know you're getting the boot tomorrow in a swap sent from heavenz. but while we get you packed, talk to me, LWRC. who's responsible for this mess? because at the outset, i thought we were going to sync rapturously with one another. that's why i threw down on ebay to make you mine, in the first place!! i've given you three chances, but you've remained committed to showing me a bad time, and i can't, in good faith, ante up for more of what's been pretty crap treatment outta you. so, out you go. 1. you remind me of 'vanillaroma,' the terrible little yellow tree-shaped air-freshener from 7-11. well, i turned to toxic car scents only once, during a road trip long ago, when i desperately needed to drown out the deadly exhaust fumes seething into the air supply from my sweet old squareback and his craptastic engine. but that's not at all pleasant. my eyes still sting just thinking about that trip, if you wanna know. and turtle wax + coconut suave shampoo + plastic "vanilla-scented" baby doll skin was not my olfactory aim, then or now. 2. red ginger, is that you causin the ruckus? is your scent analogous to the 'exotic flower arrangements' from the flower cooler at the florist? those supposedly "masculine" arrangements w/ you and red anthurium (who naturally smells of fake and florists' wax)? b/c that's what i'm getting here. your root's the bees' knees, but your blossom...? 3. palm date, are you like yummy dates, like the medjool dates in my smoothies, so buttery and rich. or might you be a more astringent, inedible, yucky incarnation? a poisonous, wretched variety, perhaps? 4. we know each other well enough that i can trust your involvement here, oakmoss. ...right? 5. listen, oud, i understand you're a special substance, but gimme a freakin break. somebody fess up. tell me who's to blame for this scent-tragedy!! . . . . . ME?! OMG!STFU!! edited to reflect the unfolding of our whole interaction. but i'll be the bigger person and end this stupid blame-game claptrap.

this, from haley, made me snortchoo a red spray of JuicySqueeze soda across the screen of my laptop. i've been tug-of-warring a lot lately about whether/how to post my first review. it seems unfair to start with THE HESPERIDES because i loOove so many oils, but i'm extremely unambivalently not-in-favor of this one on me. yet it's the one i'm testing at this very special moment. In the imp: though the actual oil is clear, at inhalation it immediately strikes me as syrupy emerald green. and it's dry but wet. though i hadn't realized i knew what they smelled like, this blend reminds me of the frigid, soggy rubber mats rinkside at the Ice Capades Chalet. waiting for the zamboni, waaiiiiting for the zamboni machine. i'm thinking, at this point, that me + the hesperides = uh oh. X'd across the backs of my hands: oh, you're a trip, aren't you? you're proudly AstroTurf green. you are the unsexiest scent ever on me. you're somehow evoking the soft, yet sticky, old shag carpeting of some random <> single-diamond AAA motel on the outskirts of vegas. in the '80s. you're grossing me out, body chemicals. why take such a stand? At drydown: the feeling of a (mythical?) childhood-me, freshly 8 years old or so, behind the kid line at a small-time casino. we're in vegas, circa 1983. maybe it's part of a leg of our summer vacation... wait! this is way evocative; i know this scent! after a long inhalation of the stigmata oil splotches on my hands, the imagery gets even sharper: we just had brunch at a smoky diner, like Coco's, with dark formica tables and stackable jellies. the boring adults are yammering on, even though the food's long gone. little kid me, i'm looking at everyone's feet and the crinkled lost napkins on the floor. a few minutes ago, our server slipped me a bright green lollipop, one of the cheap cello-wrapped ones that might be lime, or it might be apple. it's just green flavor. and it's mixing with the taste of the trident wintergreen gum i was already orally busy with. ...or was it that perfectly square pillowy gum with the gooey green liquid center i was chawing on? it's that unsettling melange of fragrances/flavors/feelings. Well beyond drydown: nostril-singeing cold, dry, snowy weather and air-conditioned sweat. er, i know i'm wayyy off, but those are the notes as my nose decodes 'em. every now and then i get a sharp whiff of that nasty green Chloraseptic Throat Spray™, a smell reminiscent of my tonsil-infected youth. or it's a chilly midnight in the fluorescently-lit lounge at the ER, the hospital-issue industrial cleanser, the colored pathway lines on the linoleum. with an undercurrent of Ace bandages and the infirm. and Tiger Balm. but then it's the scent of toothfairy money from my mom's big ol' suede wallet. ok, what's up with my clearly disturbed skin chemistry???! damn it, i just couldn't make this happen. To: blisskite From: The Hesperides dyawanna, you know, go out n stuff?? [ ] yess! [ ] sure. [ ] okay. [ ] just not even! [x] right. step off, hoser.

thanks, everyone!! i haven't tried any of those blends before, so now i've got a great list to work my way down. for anyone who's still reading along, do ozone blends ever tend to have a bit of crackle-and-pop fizzy-ness about them?

are there any fizzy blends you can think of, boozy, fruity, or otherwise? ...like soda, maybe a gin gimlet, or overripe mangoes? fermented kombucha tea, even? pear cider? or maybe not due to drinky-foody notes at all? it's autumn 2009, and i just realized there's no better time than now to figure out how to effervesce!!