Invidiana

DRUID A woolen robe infused with the scent of a vast, primordial forest: ancient trees, fertile soil, wild herbs, spring grasses, and burgundy pitch incense. Druid smells ancient in the best possible way. I've always been fascinated by Druids in both history and fiction, and this scent evokes all the mental images I've had of them. There are definitely a lot of dark resins and woods here, overgrown with moss and vines like a forest that has gone completely untouched since time immemorial. There is something of an earthy backdrop to it as well, probably with a bit of black patchouli grounding it. I think there is cedar in this but the fact that my skin doesn't turn it into a hamster cage means it's very subtle, and if I'm not mistaken it reminds me of the black cedar in An Altar to Cold Dark Rigid Death. Complex and intriguing, not promouncedly masculine as it may seem with all the wood notes ( I think there's oak in as well and some sort of bark). I'm looking forward to the final iteration of this.

CLYTIE This Clytie knew, and knew she was undone, Whose soul was fix'd, and doated on the Sun. She rag'd to think on her neglected charms, And Phoebus, panting in another's arms. With envious madness fir'd, she flies in haste, And tells the king, his daughter was unchaste. The king, incens'd to hear his honour stain'd, No more the father nor the man retain'd. In vain she stretch'd her arms, and turn'd her eyes To her lov'd God, th' enlightner of the skies. In vain she own'd it was a crime, yet still It was a crime not acted by her will. The brutal sire stood deaf to ev'ry pray'r, And deep in Earth entomb'd alive the fair. What Phoebus could do, was by Phoebus done: Full on her grave with pointed beams he shone: To pointed beams the gaping Earth gave way; Had the nymph eyes, her eyes had seen the day, But lifeless now, yet lovely still, she lay. Not more the God wept, when the world was fir'd, And in the wreck his blooming boy expir'd. The vital flame he strives to light again, And warm the frozen blood in ev'ry vein: But since resistless Fates deny'd that pow'r, On the cold nymph he rain'd a nectar show'r. Ah! undeserving thus (he said) to die, Yet still in odours thou shalt reach the sky. The body soon dissolv'd, and all around Perfum'd with heav'nly fragrancies the ground, A sacrifice for Gods up-rose from thence, A sweet, delightful tree of frankincense. Tho' guilty Clytie thus the sun betray'd, By too much passion she was guilty made. Excess of love begot excess of grief, Grief fondly bad her hence to hope relief. But angry Phoebus hears, unmov'd, her sighs, And scornful from her loath'd embraces flies. All day, all night, in trackless wilds, alone She pin'd, and taught the list'ning rocks her moan. On the bare earth she lies, her bosom bare, Loose her attire, dishevel'd is her hair. Nine times the morn unbarr'd the gates of light, As oft were spread th' alternate shades of night, So long no sustenance the mourner knew, Unless she drunk her tears, or suck'd the dew. She turn'd about, but rose not from the ground, Turn'd to the Sun, still as he roul'd his round: On his bright face hung her desiring eyes, 'Till fix'd to Earth, she strove in vain to rise. Her looks their paleness in a flow'r retain'd, But here, and there, some purple streaks they gain'd. Still the lov'd object the fond leafs pursue, Still move their root, the moving Sun to view, And in the Heliotrope the nymph is true. Excess of love begetting excess of grief: heliotrope, frankincense, muguet, osmanthus, and neroli. I was born here to Greek parents and grew up with these stories, so the Great Duets in Tragedy series is especially meaningful to me since this mythology is s a part of my heritage. When it comes to florals, I tend to be extremely picky. There aren't many straight florals I like; I need my florals taken with spices, resins, musks or gourmands. Now take the florals in this, add frankincense and suddenly something magical happens. It turns into a golden, exotic blend with the frankincense shining at the fore and the flowers backing it up with a dreamy and sweet, but definitely not cloying, sweetness. This is not a dark and brooding frankincense (which I'm equally fond of) but one that I can imagine is the color of liquid gold. I can't pick out a single floral because everything is so well-blended, but they all merge into something exotically feminine. There is also something in here, something poignant but not bitter, possibly the neroli, that clearly evokes the grief of Clytie. It's a beautiful and very accurate evocation, and I'll treasure it along with all the rest of the scents in this series.

Mrs. Dunbar conducts her house of assignation, at No. 44 Grove street in the best manner. The utmost decorum is observed, and every facility is furnished to those who call for passing the time in the most agreeable manner. This is a first class house. A decorous, agreeable experience: crystalline vanilla musk, freesia, and white tea. Be still my beating heart. The vanilla musk had me at first sniff out of the bottle, and it only blooms on my skin the longer it dries down. This is more of a translucent vanilla as opposed to the foodier ones, but there is still something irresistible that could almost be called "delicious" about it. Ethereal freesia and white tea swirl into what is really an enchanting, almost fairy-like scent that would make me think more of a Victorian virgin ghost bride than a mistress of ill repute. I'm conservative with what I get backups of, but I had to get a backup of this one.

Puffy clouds of pumpkin candyfloss with a trickle of blackberry juice. What? I live all the way in New Jersey and I'm the first to review this? So I'm a notorious pumpkinphile, as some of you may know. Given that, it's probably no surprise this was one of the first Weenies I scrambled to order this year.In the bottle and wet, it seems to be just spiced pumpkin; it really needs some time on the drydown to reveal itself as "blue pumpkin floss" as opposed to strictly (still pretty damned delicious) spiced pumpkin. I have this dabbed on one arm and the proto on the other; I find the released to be sweeter and richer than the proto, with a more buttery pumpkin note (as opposed to the more squashy/fresh pumpkin of the proto) and more pronounced candyfloss and blackberry notes. Also, the proto seems to have more spice while the released seems to have no more than a pinch if at all (I do detect what may be a dash of cinnamon). The blackberry is not one of those cloyingly sweet and/or artificial berry scents at all but a real true-to-life dark, tart blackberry that adds a tart edge and even a wicked dash of evil to the sweet buttery pumpkin. The tartness of the blackberry also counteracts the sweetness of the pumpkin and candyfloss, with the candyfloss acting as a sugary support base for the two, not overtaking either of them but rather balancing them out on puffy sugary clouds as the description suggests. All in all it's a dentist's nightmare with a distinctly autumnal feel, which in a scent (for me at least) is an extremely good thing. If you're as crazy about pumpkin as I am, or just a foodie in general, don't miss out on this one because it's a uniquely delicious and very craveable variation on our favorite spooky gourd. :pheart:

BARD A ridiculously charismatic blend of bay rum, honey, and white musk mingling with the scent of harp wood and lute strings and the twang of horn brass. How do I love thee, Bard? Let me count the ways. I love your clouds of vanilla, your light, white florals, your sheer musk. There is definitely vanilla here, but it is not a buttery or foody or overly sweet vanilla but an airy nonfoody vanilla that does have something of a cloud-like quality. I would say it's more a vanilla orchid than anything else. It's difficult to pick out exactly what floral notes are in here; they start out fresh and dew-covered, even a little green, but dry down soft with a slight (pleasant) powderiness. Definitely white florals for the most part. I think I pick up some lily of the valley and a trace of iris, but there must be other types of white flowers in here as well because it's too complex to just be those two. Later on in the drydown I pick up the musk, something that must involve white musk since I can detect that pure, clean-but-not-soapy scent in here. There may or may not be skin musk in here too, difficult to tell since it's so well blended. The musk(s?) give it a slight warmth but on the whole I would say this is neither warm or cool, the same type of neutral feel as Thieves Rosin but an entirely different scent. It's on the feminine side of unisex and also really uplifting. I swear when they're released I'm getting all four of these.

THE MONTAUK PROJECT Vile weapons spawned in A mysterious sanctum Yes, Tesla still lives. The government’s most dangerous and fantastic experiments are conducted in Montauk, home to the real Men in Black. Mind-shattering psychological weapons are developed in top-secret facilities, where researchers also investigate invisibility, psychic and psionic power, and travel through hyperspace, alternate dimensions, and time. Breathtaking native flora concealing a bastion of covert government experiments: shagbark hickory, sassafras, black gum, bald cypress, pine, dogwood, wild comfrey, swamp sunflower, and trumpet creeper. Aaaand another one of the Black Helicopters that goes insanely manly on me. It's very piney and cologney wet and in the bottle, and while I was hoping for some exotic florals (I don't exactly know what comprises the native flora) to burst out and save it, but the masculine pine cologne dominates all the way. It's almost completely pine wet, with the cypress making this something of a sharp pine, and as it dries down it gains more of a woodiness from the bark note. Finally on the extreme drydown I do get a hint of florals and a bit of sweetness from the gum, as my skin does sweeten most resins, but it's still very highly masculine and just won't work on me. The cypress, which is often a death note for me, doesn't help either as it gives it a sharp and medicinal edge. It would probably work well on a guy or anyone who really has an affinity for bracing pine scents, but I can't pull it off.

PHANTOM TIME HYPOTHESIS Charlemagne? Fiction. What is the date anyway? Three-hundred year lie. All archaeological evidence that the years AD 614-911 took place is fabricated, and these years were added to our contemporary version of history due to the deliberate falsification of documents and manufactured artifacts. This year is, in actuality, AD 1713. A traditional Medieval perfume that never existed: balm, benzoin, damask rose, gumdragon, lignum aloes, orange water, ambergris, and vegetal musk. I had high hopes for this, especially because of the benzoin which has come to the rescue for me before in many other blends. Unfortunately it couldn't in this one. Initially I get a bracing menthol rush of what I actually jotted down as an almost metallic "time machine air" in my notebook and as it dries down I realize this is the dastardly work of the balm and aloe with the damask rose possibly being an accomplice. Despite vainly hoping it will turn into something amazing after a couple minutes, it ends up a predominantly medicinal old-fashioned ointment with VapoRub-type aloe (which is probably what gave me the "time machine air" impression), and the blending of the rose with these two already highly herbal and menthol scents only succeeds in making them sharper. There is a very slight sweet undercurrent, which must be the benzoin trying to break through, but it's too suppressed by the medieval medicine. Instead of taking me back in time, what my skin chemistry does with this just reminds me of being in bed with a nasty cold.

Increases the chance of successfully picking pockets by 25%. This was a really hard one to pin down, but it is just sexy. The first thing I get is woods and resins, and then a sensual musk snakes through and take the whole thing to a completely different level. Since this specifically has "rosin" in its title, it made it a little easier to know what type of resin is in here--for those who don't know, rosin is a type of pine resin and the same type of note that's in Mr. Fezziwig's Ball. I definitely get that deep, slightly sweet resin right off the bat. The wood is a little more difficult tp grasp, but I'm venturing to say there may be teak in here judging by how it reacts on my skin. It has that same smooth, wood-but-not-wood drydown as teak, just not the same kind of finish as sandalwood. Not "woody" enough to be mahogany. No lacquer notes that I can detect. I told you this was hard to pin down! Finally we have that musk, which I think either is a sort of Indian musk or must have Indian musk involved somewhere. It's more noticeable than skin musk, but not quite as intense as Siberian musk. The scent as a whole is unisex and neither warm nor cool, and there is a certain oddly airy and uplifting aspect to it which makes me think, however strange this sounds, that it would actually layer well with Vial of Holy Water. I can't wait till it's released because this is another one I'm buying vats of.

Lady Death in all her savage glory: an unrelenting supernatural warrior witch! White musk, grey amber, Calabrian bergamot, vanilla absolute, French labdanum, styrax, wormwood, caraway, and bois de jasmin. Warrior witch indeed. I couldn't possibly resist this for the theme alone, and the scent is just.....sex. Not a smutty scent, but something that clings to the skin with a fierce edge. The Lab's ethereal white musk is given a dusky feel by the grey amber, and a nonfoody vanilla that is sweet enough to complement the blend but doesn't overpower. I should note that I tend to amp vanilla so it may be a little sweeter on me than on someone who doesn't. The labdanum and styrax give it a substantial resinous anchor that layers very well with the gray amber and emerges more over time. There is something, though, that I can't really put my finger on--something that gives it that extra oomph--maybe that rare jasmine that actually likes me? The caraway? I really doubt the wormwood note is what does it though its interaction with something might give that result. I have a feeling it's from the intermingling of more than one note. Either way, this is a scent that almost hisses its darkly sexual aura, and is the olfactory equivalent of a leather catsuit (without the leather). Love it.

Peony blossoms and vanilla orchid. We used to grow these huge fluffy peonies out back when I was a kid so this will always have some nostalgic connection for me. I remember sticking my nose in them and just inhaling, and the peony note here reminds me of just that: an airy yet sweet and unmistakably pink floral, a "pink" scent in the way that sweet pea and tea rose smell "pink" but a different type of pink fragrance than either. I hope I am making some semblance of sense so far. Now I cannot imagine this delicate scent being blended with a heavy buttery vanilla, but vanilla orchid is its perfect match. It adds that creamy sensual sweetness that I recognize from scents like Moonshine and Mist and Opuhi. The more it dries down, the more the vanilla orchid emerges to entwine with the peony into one harmonious creamy pink whole, thus the more I keep falling for it, right to my knees like that lady in the pink kimono.

Sin in the Pumpkin Patch There's all manner of shenanigans in this year's pumpkin patch! Pumpkin'ized hybrids of GC BPAL scents abound! This is like a pumpkin doing burlesque. The warm, creamy, comforting pumpkin appears all wholesome until it gets entangled with the blatant sensuality of Sin. Even though I tend to amp cinnamon, it behaves rather well here. The pumpkin note is lightly spiced, and I also think that the pumpkin just being present balances out the cinnamon of Sin so it smells more subtle than that of the original does on me. It warms the blend as a whole, but doesn't stomp all over it. At least on my skin, the most prominent note in Sin that dances with the pumpkin--and probably what makes this such a sexy pumpkin--is the black patchouli. Supported by the amber and sandalwood, which give it additional depth (read: even sexier) it crosses pumpkin over into territory I never thought pumpkin would go to. It's like putting that jack-o-lantern-next-door in black lace stockings that take her from pumpkin shell to bombshell.

The next house, No. 55, is kept by Miss Addie Blashfield, the dashing brunette, who has eight or ten boarders, both blondes and brunettes. These are a pretty lot of girls, of pleasing and engaging manners. It is regarded as a first class house, very quiet and orderly and is visited by some of our first citizens. Night-blooming wildflowers, indigo musk, black currant, and clove. Anything night-blooming is a win for me, so this lady of the night gets along with my skin chemistry very well. Something in it reminds me of my beloved long-discontinued Midnight. It's all glorious, heady jasmine (and possibly gardenia, possibly even moonflower) that you'd expect to find growing around haunted Garden District houses in an Anne Rice novel. The midnight musk and deep purple shadows of blackcurrant only makes it even more intoxicating. It's like jasmine-scented skin wrapped in a velvet cloak. Wherever the clove is, it behaves. While it must be adding something, maybe a the barest hint of warmth, like the debauchery behind the brothel walls, but stays distant in the background. This makes me want to go read The Witching Hour again.

THE BRITISH BLONDES In 1868, Lydia Thompson’s British Blondes took New York City by storm, introducing burlesque to the Americas. A cluster of hothouse orchids with smoky vanilla-touched skin musk and burnished golden amber. Complex and sophisticated, sensual and beautiful, and very "golden". There is no one element that really stands out above the others in this blend but they all harmonize together into something amazing. It isn't a screeching floral though the orchids are present, and it is not gourmand though the smoky vanilla musk is definitely there, merging with the mysterious and sexy aroma of orchids on a bed of sweet golden amber. It makes me think of an old-school Hollywood actress spraying on perfume from a tasseled atomizer before going off to a movie premiere. I sprayed this on my shirt and couldn't stop huffing it the rest of the day.

While the released Sugar Plum Fairy had a candy aspect to it, this one is pretty much all yummy candied fruits. Wet it actually reminds me of sticking my nose in a bag of gummies, and then as it dries down the types of fruits make themselve known. There is definitely a lot of sugarplum, which I expected; there also must be candied cherries in here, almost like a maraschino cherry note and candied apricot that is sweeter than the apricot note in the released. There is also hint of candied citrus, what I believe is orange, lemon and lime, though it isn't dominant. I also get the tiniest hint of spice from what I think might actually be a type of gumdrop note. It's actually more in league with scents like the Confectionary proto (more fruit candy) and The Kingdom of Sweets (less tart) than its released version, but delicious all the same.

PALLAS ATHENE Pallas Athene, Gustav Klimt. Antiqued amber, cumin, saffron, frankincense, Atlas cedar, myrrh, mandarin, Ceylon cinnamon bark, and osmanthus. I didn't think this had a chance of working on me because of the cumin and cedar. Boy was I wrong. Sometimes I can amp cumin, true, but here I get only a tinge of it wet and then none at all. Cedar can alo be problematic but instead of the cedar death I expected a la Sacrifice, I get a surprisingly soft woody background. The real stars of this scent are the resins and mandarin, especially the amber. It's a rich, full-bodied "expensive"-smelling amber that is just sweet enough and thoroughly sophisticated. The frankincense and myrrh add even more golden resinous body to it and the mandarin adds to the Oriental luxury of the scent. I get a hint of spice from the cinnamon and maybe the faintest trace of floral from the osmanthus, but these are just details that round out the whole picture. It's a complex scent that reflects the ornate nature of Klimt's painting. The bottle I am testing from is not mine, but I'm definitely picking up one of my own with the next Lunacy. This is just way too lovely to pass up.

GOBLIN MARKET Apples and quinces, Lemons and oranges, Plump unpecked cherries, Melons and raspberries, Bloom-down-cheeked peaches... Like honey to the throat, but poison in the blood. Let me just say that I'm so relieved I don't get any melon out of this because it generally doesn't love my skin, but it's all ripe fall fruits uninterrupted by any melon shenanigans. Now that that's out of the way I can let the goblins seduce me with their tempting fruits. There's the juicy sweetness of the peach and apple, checked by the red tartness of the cherry and raspberry. I can definitely distinguish the quince note; I've eaten them baked many times and it smells like exactly that. It's kind of like a less sweet apple with something of a starchy, almost bread-like undertone. I also like how the quince adds something warm and hearty to the blend and balances the sweeter fruit notes. There is a hint of citrus from the lemon and orange, and they're both sweet-tart juice notes rather than the more bitter rind notes. The presence of citrus here doesn't make this a summery scent at all but has more of the effect that the orange in Fearful Pleasure has, even though they're very different scents. I'm thinking there might even be a kiss of golden honey here though I can't be completely sure with all the fruit action going on. I adore Christina Rossetti's poem so much, and this is like the lines above were brought to life and bottled.

ELF Pale golden musk, honeycomb, amber, parma violet, hawthorne bark, aspen leaf, forest lily, life everlasting, white moss, and a hint of wild berry. I think I'm going to die of happiness that I'm the first to review this. Elf was the first RPG bottle I *had* to get because I used to write LOTR/Silmarillion fanfics and my character was a Noldorin elf. Plus I have a peculiar fetish for pointy ears. Wet this is woody and a bit piney with berries that remind me of Skadi/Talvikuu/The Snow Maiden and a certain dewiness to it, like walking into an enchanted forest at dusk after the rain. It' really on the drydown that the true character of the scent starts emerging and it hits me: this smells like Lothlorien. Not that I know what Tolkien imagined the foret of Lothlorien to smell like but it's at least dead close to what I always imagined it to smell like. Slowly the wood/green aspect drifts to the background and the lovely soft musk and honeycomb emerge on a bed of soft forest florals. I definitely get some gentle violet petals here, though by no means is the scent dominated by violet. I'm not really familiar with what life-everlasting smells like on its own but it' an appropriate floral to have in here because elves are traditionally percieved as immortal. Gradually the amber emerges and adds warmth and depth, and finally the moss which give it a hint of woodsy earthines. The woodsy and berry elements entwine with the honeycomb, musk and florals to create an enchanting ethereal scent highly evocative of the these elusive creatures and the mythical forests they call their home. Final verdict?

THEME IN YELLOW I spot the hills With yellow balls in autumn. I light the prairie cornfields Orange and tawny gold clusters And I am called pumpkins. On the last of October When dusk is fallen Children join hands And circle round me Singing ghost songs And love to the harvest moon; I am a jack-o'-lantern With terrible teeth And the children know I am fooling. - Carl Sandburg Ghost songs and love to the harvest moon: fresh pumpkins warmed by candlelight and aglow with Halloween joy. Pumpkin and beeswax. For me, a confessed pumpkinphile, this was a no-brainer. Before I start-- no raw pumpkin guts! It's a creamy, delicious baked pumpkin note with just a hint of spice, less than I find to be in Jack or Pumpkin Latte. Wet, it's all that lightly spiced pumpkin, which is delicious enough on its own, yes. But then the magic happens. The beeswax flickers to life and the more it dries down, the more it "glows" in an olfactory sense. The beeswax note most definitely brings to mind beeswax candles with that honeyed undertone, though not actual foody honey. When I was a kid I would just sit there and huff beeswax candles for that reason but that's besides the point. The way that it mingles with the pumpkin into yellow-orange bliss makes it a comfort scent like no other. Mind my synaesthesia but it truly is a scent on the orange side of yellow, warm and welcoming like the candlelit smile of a jack-o-lantern on a crisp October night. Like those candles way back when, I just keep huffing.

VIAL OF HOLY WATER The gleaming, indescribably clean scent of purified, ritually consecrated holy water. I know how crazy I'm going to sound but this actually smells like water. Now I'm sure there are people who are going to think "well that's a big help water has no smell" but imagine opening a bottle of cool, crisp water straight out of the fridge, no other scent mixed in except utter crispness and coolness--that's how this smells. It's fresh but not cologney, refreshing without being minty, clean without being soapy. There is really no other way to describe it. I can't even begin to pick out notes besides the fact that it's the perfect balance of aquatic and ozonic and still completely unisex. I want an entire tank full of holy water when and if this comes out!

Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer, Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing, Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects, Ceaseless, insistent. The grasshopper's horn, and far-off, high in the maples, The wheel of a locust leisurely grinding the silence Under a moon waning and worn, broken, Tired with summer. Let me remember you, voices of little insects, Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters, Let me remember, soon will the winter be on us, Snow-hushed and heavy. Over my soul murmur your mute benediction, While I gaze, O fields that rest after harvest, As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to, Lest they forget them. - Sara Teasdale A myrrh-darkened amber chypre sweetened by newly-ripened black pomegranate. The first sniff of this transported me straight outside to the depths of an autumn night. Granted the air outside doesn't smell exactly like resins and pomegranate, but what I really mean is that it evokes that feeling of a September (or October or November) midnight. This is a seriously dark pomegranate note, not nearly as bright as that in Persephone or The Fruit of Paradise. I love how this pomegranate is almost dark enough to be akin to blackcurrant, but still retains that characteristic "red" quality. This is the last pomegranate of the season, whose juice is as bloodred as the edges of an autumn sunset. The resins work to add depth on the drydown, which I can best compare to that same autumn sunset purpling and darkening before it succumbs to completely to nightfall. While the pomegrante note is perfectly balanced between sweet and tart, I believe the myrrh adds just a hint more sweetness--I tend to amp a subtle vanillic sweetness in myrrh. I feel September Midnight is the counterpart to Autumn and Winter, a prequel for what's to come as the days grow shorter and the nights deeper.

AUTUMN AND WINTER Three months bade wane and wax the wintering moon Between two dates of death, while men were fain Yet of the living light that all too soon Three months bade wane. Cold autumn, wan with wrath of wind and rain, Saw pass a soul sweet as the sovereign tune That death smote silent when he smote again. First went my friend, in life's mid light of noon, Who loved the lord of music: then the strain Whence earth was kindled like as heaven in June Three months bade wane. A herald soul before its master's flying Touched by some few moons first the darkling goal Where shades rose up to greet the shade, espying A herald soul; Shades of dead lords of music, who control Men living by the might of men undying, With strength of strains that make delight of dole. The deep dense dust on death's dim threshold lying Trembled with sense of kindling sound that stole Through darkness, and the night gave ear, descrying A herald soul. One went before, one after, but so fast They seem gone hence together, from the shore Whence we now gaze: yet ere the mightier passed One went before; One whose whole heart of love, being set of yore On that high joy which music lends us, cast Light round him forth of music's radiant store. Then went, while earth on winter glared aghast, The mortal god he worshipped, through the door Wherethrough so late, his lover to the last, One went before. A star had set an hour before the sun Sank from the skies wherethrough his heart's pulse yet Thrills audibly: but few took heed, or none, A star had set. All heaven rings back, sonorous with regret, The deep dirge of the sunset: how should one Soft star be missed in all the concourse met? But, O sweet single heart whose work is done, Whose songs are silent, how should I forget That ere the sunset's fiery goal was won A star had set? Bitter currant and dry leaves. Winter wind at dusk. This one hasn't gotten any review love yet? I'm shocked. Now I am a sucker for anything involving dry or burning leaves, and the dry leaf aspect of this scent is amazing. It really is dry leaves--not rotting leaves, not wet leaves, just dry crackling leaves. The blackcurrant is the perfect type for this type of scent, dark and bittersweet. It adds a hint of sweetness (just like the sap note sweetens October a little), but isn't foody at all. While I love my foody scents I don't feel foody would be appropriate for this particular one. There is also somethign extra in there that indeed reminds me of cutting winter wind; it's very difficult to describe, but that wind during November/December has a distinct cold but dry smell it carries with it and I think Beth captured that perfectly in this blend. For anyone who loves dry leaf scents and October as much as I do, don't hesitate to pick up a bottle of this.

Opium tar and Damask rose. Do NOT be afraid of the rose in this one; on a blind sniff without looking at the notes, rose didn't even come to mind, but wonderfully sinister opium with a backdrop of something soft and feminine to balance it. It could be I'm amping the opium, since I do amp resins, which of course I don't mind one bit. The opium and rose just blend so well that it really just seems like a softer and more feminine version of opium rather than a distinct opium and rose blend. It's definitely an intoxicating scent, conjuring images such as a well-reputed manor overshadowed by specters of the past and a wholesome-looking socialite with dark secrets up her sleeve. This is already darkly lovely adn only going to get deeper and more mysterious with age.

TRAIPSING THROUGH THE CROP CIRCLES Mystery doodle Vast: in corn, maize, or barley Aliens or what? Alien navigational landmarks? Extraterrestrial communications? Plasma vortices? Manifestations of the mystic power of ley lines? Miles and miles of flattened wheat, barley, and maize. I was really hoping for the bready and slightly sweet type of grains that are warm and foody and comforting, but my skin had a mind of its own with these because they came out pretty grassy on me. As it dries down it does warm up and a bit of that bready quality does emerge, but not enough to overtake the dominant smell of crushed plants. I'm guessing it really isn't the grains themselves that are at play here as much as the actual plants that produce them. However, if you like the scent of open fields and plains on a warm spring day and aren't so much into the foody type of grains, give this a try, because it is a very accurate rendition of that.

PHASMOPHOBIA Fear of ghosts. Whispers in the darkness and cold breath upon your neck: calla lilies, white sandalwood, snow rose, white amber, and iced wine. If there was ever a beautiful way to interpret ectoplasm, this is it. I love white florals and the lily note alone makes it an absolute win. There is some rose in the background, but it's not a dry or dominant rose that shrieks its presence out to the world. Think more along the lines of velvety white petals mingling with the heady (but not cloying) calla lily. It's all floral in the wet stage, and then as it dries down something moderately sweet enters the mix--that must be the ice wine. As someone who has actually tasted ice wine I can say that it isn't nearly as strong a flavor (or smell) as red wine, and while sweet enough, it's not saccharine. Same goes for the wine note here. It balances the ethereal florals and allows them to maintain that ghostly quality while still adding something extra. If there was any phobia here it was the white sandalwood. Some types can go bone-dry on my skin but it turned out there was nothing to fear because it's very soft and subtle. Phasmophobia conjures images of spectres in flowing white dresses forever haunting an abandoned attic. I do believe any self-respecting phantom would approve.

A WORLD WHERE THERE ARE OCTOBERS October was a beautiful month at Green Gables, when the birches in the hollow turned as golden as sunshine and the maples behind the orchard were royal crimson and the wild cherry trees along the lane put on the loveliest shades of dark red and bronzy green, while the fields sunned themselves in aftermaths. Anne reveled in the world of color about her. "Oh, Marilla," she exclaimed one Saturday morning, coming dancing in with her arms full of gorgeous boughs" 'I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn't it? Look at these maple branches. Don't they give you a thrill--several thrills? I'm going to decorate my room with them." An armload of maple boughs and a swirl of autumn leaves. October has a sister! Almost anything with dry leaves has my heart and this is no exception. The leaf notes definitely remind me of October, but I feel that while that one is evocative of late October when there are cold winds and crunchy leaves everywhere, this one is more evocative of early October when all the leaves are ablaze. The maple wood note is actually very close to oak, perhaps just a tad sweeter. The sweet undertones come out more as this dries down, and it seems like there is a hint of sap here too, though somewhat lighter than the sap note in October. It's not maple syrup or the least bit foody but there is a very, very slight undertone that hints at it being related to maple syrup if that makes any sense at all whatsoever. Like something that says this is the raw state of what eventually ends up as maple syrup. Maybe that makes a bit more sense. Keep in mind I could potentially be high from all the Weenies I've already assaulted my nostrils with. But I love how this one brings out a distinct "redness"--there goes my synaesthesia again--in the leaf note. It just so clearly illustrates brilliant red leaves, along with memories of apple picking in upstate New York, in my mind.