Invidiana

Now this is what I wanted Strawberry Moon 09, which sadly turned to grass clippings on me, to smell like. This is lovely honeyed, vanilla-kissed strawberry that really does smell like wild strawberries and isn't cloying or candylike. As it dries down I also get a hint of dandelion sap like that in Plastic Pink Flamingo and the tiniest hint of soft grasses blowing in the breeze, but nothing like the overwhelming grass clippings I got from 09. This is the Strawberry Moon I've been waiting for.

On me this is almost a dead ringer for Honey hair gloss. I was a little leery of the gingergrass and turmeric, but they are barely detectable. It's just a lovely golden honey scent tinged with vanilla and gardenia and the tiniest bit of dragon's blood for depth. I positively can't wait to wear it along with the hair gloss.

At first this is very much a wood and patchouli scent, not calling to mind the white butterfly that is its namesake. However, as with others in this series, I get a real surprise on the drydown. The woods and patchouli soften and allow the vanilla, tonka and musk to really shine through. I don't really get any spikenard, which for me is a good thing as spikenard can be iffy. Several minutes after letting this dry down I almost didn't recognize it from the wet stage, as the vanilla really got a chance to bloom. So pretty.

Blueberry and lilac seems like such an odd pairing of notes at first, but it's actually a winning combo. This scent is such a departure from the norm but so dreamy and relaxing. Blueberry is obviously the first thing to jump out at me wet, but then the soft florals of lilac and orris put it on fluffy clouds that make think of a blue sky in June. Love it.

I almost thought I wasn't going to like this, because in the wet stage it was just a sharp blasting confusion of bergamot and violet leaf, but something amazing happens after a couple minutes. The bergamot and violet leaf all but completely disappear, and taking their place is the most wonderful lily of the valley backed by soft patchouli and an uplifting spark of that chocolate peppermint. The resins and tobacco waft up through the background to add a summery warmth. What I assumed I was going to completely disagree with turned out to be love.

This is like the most luxe chocolate orange ever. The cacao and orange are prominent from the beginning, exactly like orange-infused dark chocolate, but as it dries down something magical happens with the smokiness of the coffee, tobacco and wood that elevate it from foody to sensuous. I only wish Vosges made truffles like this.

For all that grandiflorum jasmine ends up as cat piss on me, night-blooming jasmine works. The two most prominent notes here from the beginning are the blood orange and jasmine, but as it dries down I get some lovely vanilla and wood coming through, which together blend into a warm smoky vanilla, and that dark richness of the oude. Another uncommon win for my skin and jasmine!

I had hope for the honey and musk in this, but no such luck. This is the spitting image of Fee on me: all honeydew, all the time. No musk, no honey, just honeydew. Honeydew that amps to cloying melon rolled in Sweet 'N Low. We will never be friends.

I had no idea what gingko nut smelled like, but apparently it complements the almond in this really well, because at least on me this one smells like cherry-flavored marzipan. I would think I get the cherry-ish tinge from the persimmon. The musk warms it up and gives it another dimension, but it's still foody deliciousness on me and I need a bottle.

This 13 is so different from any of the others, and I am really liking it. It's all honeyed wildflowers on a creamy soft base. I pick out random flowers here and there, especially the chamomile blossom (a little strong in the beginning but calms down eventually) and champaca, but they all harmonize into something really pretty and even soothing on the drydown. Some of the 13s have been too sharp and herbal for me, but this one is a winner!

This one really does smell like someone bottled swirling shadows from the goblin castle. Something incensey here reminds me of--dare I say it?--Formula 54.I think there must be clove somewhere, possibly in that dusty stone note, because I tend to amp clove and I bring it to the forefront as this begins to dry down. Something like F54 with rosehips instead of that cherry note that hangs around in the beginning. Along with the clove, rosehips are also pretty prominent in the wet(ter) stage. As it keeps drying, the clove and rosehips recede a little and something cold and stony reminiscent of Night's Bridge comes through. I think this is the work of the moss and ivy along with something else unnamed in that stone note. I tend to lean towards foodier clove blends, but I must say this is highly evocative of what it's supposed to bring to mind.

Katniss: Ranger, obviously. I think The Bow and Crown of Conquest would work well, too. Peeta: Bread and Butter-Fly. Simple and wholesome, and befitting a baker's son. Gale: Hunter or Dee. Haymitch: John Barleycorn. Cinna: Chimera. President Snow: The Last Evening of the Year. Ooooh Hunger Games! Let me try! *I am giving away a handful of characters from the next two books, but no events, so those of you who haven't gotten there yet are safe. Katniss: Hunter Peeta: Barmbrack (I know, I know, not technically a perfume but it smells exactly like fresh-baked bread!) Gale: Brom Bones Primrose: Nonae Caprotina (that goat is her pride and joy, after all) Rue: Pa-Pow Cato: The Bloody Sword Clove: Alana Patel Glimmer: Glitter Foxface: Cathode Cinna: Gold Phoenix Haymitch: Mad Sweeney (he'd probably try to drink it, too) Effie: Pink Phoenix Seneca: Lord Ruthven Plutarch: Aureus Beetee: The Coil Finnick: Sturgeon Moon Annie: Mania Joanna: Lady Death: Savage Coin: Violet Ray President Snow: Blood Rose (perfect...just so perfect)

This is like Punkie Night and Autumn Cider's darker cousin. I can definitely pick out the fermented apple from the beginning, and while there is definitely ginger there it isn't a sharp blasting ginger, just adds an element of warmth to the blend. It makes me think of hard cider and dark beer mixed together with brown sugar and spiced just so. Delicious.

I love pumpkin blends. Adore them. Wear them year-round. This one does not disappoint, with a pumpkin note that isn't overly spicy and actually reminds me of pumpkin beer (I guess it should, since it's supposed to be a fermented pumpkin) on a bed of surprisingly sexy leather, tobacco and woods. There is sweetness here, mainly from the pumpkin and tobacco, but just enough to balance it out. This isn't a "dusty" blend at all, at least on me. Another win from this series.

This starts with a generous bite of peppermint, but don't judge it so easily. After the initial clearing of the nostrils, the peppermint slowly but surely backs off and reveals a playful, candylike combo of tart fruity raspberry, sweet honey and gentle florals. The raspberry and honey especially amp over time, and something about it ends up reminding me of The Confectionary. It's going to be great for those hot summer days when I want something sweet and refershing at the same time.

This smells like the embodiment of exactly how sexy David Bowie is as Jareth, bulge and all. This is definitely in the Dorian family, kind of like a hybrid of Dorian and Mysterious Warning. It actually doesn't smell very lilac-dominant, at least on me; the notes I get the most are the vanillic tonka and ethereal white musk grounded by mysterious oude and second-skin black leather with light florals wafting around. Instant love.

I'm probably not going to be much help with this review, because UMU1 was all grape gummies on me, exactly like those Welch's grape gummies made with real fruit juice. It seems to be a cousin to Beth's "fruit gums" notes like those in Magic Do As You Will and Nightmare, more like that in Magic Do As You Will, which was sweeter. Unfortunately that was the issue; I amp the sweetness in anything that has it to begin with, and this ended up becoming cloying on me in the end. It has gone off to greener pastures.

THE AURORA SPACESHIP TAKES A DIVE Alas, poor spaceman! We hardly knew you before You smashed the windmill On April 17, 1897, an alien spaceship appeared in the skies over Aurora, Texas. It came in too low, flying through the Aurora town square, and then hobbled north towards Judge Proctor's farm. There, it smashed into a windmill and exploded, destroying the judge's house and flower garden in a deluge of tons of debris and wreckage. The townspeople hurried to the scene, where they found the horribly burnt and disfigured corpse of the alien pilot. The kindly people of Aurora buried the unfortunate alien, keeping his gravesite a secret from curious onlookers. Texas thistle, bluebell, red corn poppy, magnolia, sunflower, cedar sage, and smashed, flaming windmill. I had a bit of hope for the magnolia, but unfortunately this really does end up as an herbal woody electrical fire on me. Wet, it's mostly an herbal floral for a couple of seconds, the thistle mostly responsible for the herbal part; not entirely unpleasant but not up my alley. As it dries down I really get hit hard with the cedar sage, cedar of which my skin notoriously amps like nobody's business and there's no exception here except the bit of herbal-medicinal undertone that comes from the sage. Then the whole flaming windmill note enters the scene and it isn't pretty. It takes over everything--even the cedar--with an overwhelming eau du electrical fire (and for the record I know all too well what electrical fires smell like); metal and wires and exploding sparks of electricity bursting into flame. There is something like an ozone or aquatic clashing with the fire note in this, which is what happened in Windy Moon and just did not bode well with my chemistry as it tends to turn that combination into singed tomato. I must say this brilliantly evokes a spaceship crash, but I just can't wear it.

With vetiver and rose in cahoots again I thought this would end up being an epic fail but I was all sorts of wrong. This is not a dominating, masculine vetiver that bulldozes everything in its path. This is more of a smooth, woody and slightly sweet variety like that in The Music of Erich Zahn, which lends a certain darkness and depth to this blend but doesn't overpower it. The honey here reminds me very much of the golden honey with floral undertones in Honey hair gloss, and I'm delighted to see two notes of love that don't show up that often--red patchouli, which gives it a warm sensuality, and black rose. This isn't a really dry or nostril-piercing rose as some can be on me but really velvety and voluptuous. It's a scent as complex and mysterious as Baudelaire himself. I've gone from giving this one a leery eye to putting it at the top of my bottle list.

I really mean it when I say this is the only, and I mean the only, BPAL with grandiflorum jasmine that did not go to piss of cat on my skin. The jasmine was a little strong wet and is still a prominent element on the drydown, but my chemistry actually allows this one to show off the sensual beauty of the flower that I've been missing with all the jasmines I turned to some variety or another of feline urine. It's actually closer to a cross of gardenia and tiare (which is a variant of jasmine), heady and sensual and pretty damn gorgeous. The honey and apricot are right behind it, sweet but not cloying. I get a little of the vanillic undertone of the tonka, a hint of sexy patchouli, the additional warmth of skin musk. I can detect a bit of downy orris in there, and while I don't distinguish quince per se (and I am well acquainted with what quince smells like, having eaten many of them) it is probably contributing a bit of a tart counterbalance to the sweet elements. I am stunned by the success of this one, to say the least.

I initially get an herbal burst of clary sage and violet leaf from this, but they take a backseat as it dries down and allow the beeswax, woods and resins to take center stage. I do get some lovely beeswax from this, much like that in The Lights of Men's Lives, and I do like the shadowy resinous backdrop. However, the Bony Moon-esque white sandalwood is the decisive factor in keeping this from being bottleworthy; I amp it considerably, and it's just much too dry for me.

I thought this would be much boozier than it actually came out on me--the drydown on my skin was actually pretty herbal. I like it much better wet because I got that nice boozy rum on top of rich deep woods, but for some reason as it dried the rum and woods faded considerably, overshadowed by bay and thyme with a little citrusy orange peel. It's alright, and for once the cedar doesn't go to cedar of death on my skin, but for booze and wood I think I'll stick to my Banned in Boston.

This is predominantly black tea and anise on me; I have to really strain to pick up the goji berry and oakmoss and anything floral. I imagine it would be great for someone who prefers black tea as a dominant note--it' a very true licorice-infused black tea with a bit of an earthy undertone from the oakmoss--but not really my thing.

This is not the black musk from Storyville or The Deserted Village or Enraged Groundhog Musk that hates me with the vengeance of an angry god. This isn't even the black musk from Black Temple Burlesque Troupe that I had to age the hell out of before the dry powderiness got toned down. There's a new black musk scent in town, and it's sexy as fuuuuuu I honestly thought this wouldn't work. I mean, I amp cinnamon to hell and, as you can see, don't exactly have the best history with black musk. However, this scent has turned that notion on its head and made it do the Electric Slide. This black musk is slightly powdery, yes, but not the chalky powdery or plastic powdery types that have failed on me before. This is a soft and sensual type of powdery like--dare I say it?--Unseelie, though the cinnamon makes it decidedly more sensual than Unseelie. The cinnamon here is like no other I've smelled. It's not nostril-piercing spice or red hots or even the bakery sort of cinnamon that is the only one of the three I tolerate; this is a different animal in itself. It has a spicy edge, yes, but a tamed spicy edge that is closer to the heat of a warm musk (especially red) than a cinnamon stick. It must be the type of cinnamon. I am not just surprised, I am floored. Must have a bottle!

I thought this would just be another grapefruit-dominant blend, but was I ever wrong. It's prominent wet but actually becomes very faint in the drydown and allows an array of heady, sensual notes to shine through. I get a lot of gorgeous ylang ylang and muguet mingling with warm fig on an ethereal bed of white musk, with the softest hint of ginger. I think the ambergris contributes to the warmth and sensuality while the jonquil, not a terribly strong scent, melds with the other florals smoothly. Khus is actually an alternate name for vetiver but I can't sense much of it, maybe just a slight woody undertone. I would put this in the same scent family as Blue Morpho and Beanman & Beanwoman. Gorgeous and turning into a bottle.