herongale

pre-conceived notion: this was one of two 5-ml vials I ordered from the lab a few months ago, based purely on description and reviews alone. I had such a lovely time the one day I spent in Amsterdam; it was the first time I'd navigated bus systems and a train system totally on my own, without extensive prior counsel, and it was ALSO the first time I'd tried to do those things in a place where English is not the primary language. Without Dutch OR a Dutch-English dictionary, I, a mere car traveler, braved the hazards of a totally alien transportation system. And not only survived, but triumphed! (I am still afraid to ride city buses or subways, however). in the vial: strong green tulips... pure and freshcut. wet: I don't quite understand what is meant by "fresh flowing water" as invoked in the original description. Totally fresh water has no scent, of course... but the scent of water from a stream, lake, river, or ocean... those are all very particular outdoors scents that I think can only be honestly replicated in a fragrance that is not tainted by anything stronger. Flowers overwhelm whatever sense of water I might get out of this... but these are cool flowers in the mid morning of spring, after a rain. Thus, this is a much more positive watery experience than R'yleh... clean tulips still reek of girl, after all. drydown: I'm reminded of the tulip bulbs I bought at an outdoors stall next to one of the canals, and how I carried them to the Rijksmuseum and wandered the exhibits, followed by an afternoon reading Haruki Murakami with my feet dipped in the nearby public fountain (where kids were allowed to swim, and dogs could splash around freely) while people loitered or biked on by... and the meandering walk where I allowed myself to get lost in the city, simply to have the pleasure of finding myself again. That was a good day. And this is a good scent to evoke those memories: it is light and floral and reminds me of flowers from a greenhouse which have been cut and placed on the table of an outdoors cafe. Pretty, formal, and archly European. post-conceived notion: I'm not sure that tulip is a scent that is very "me." But this scent is very Amsterdam, no question. verdict: I have the 5ml! I don't know if this is going to be something I will need to own forever, but I will definitely use it all.

preconceived notion: Guernsey Egg Nog is one of my favourite Christmas treats of all time, and from the months of November through January, the only thing Starbucks can sell me is the Eggnog Latte. All of the ingredients here just sounded so delicious, and I determined that this was one scent I absolutely HAD to try. in the bottle: I'm not sure if I'm glad or disappointed that the brandy and rum notes don't create any head whatsoever. But then, I've never had alcoholic eggnog, so I don't miss them much. A direct whiff gives me the strong scent of vanilla, but if I waft the bottle under my nose, I get a hint of the nutmeg, and on every third pass I smell it... absolute, perfect egg nog. The kind that is so thick that it pours like sludge, and so yellow and creamy that you can pretty much make it into a meal (and in fact, should... a Kathleen-sized cup of egg nog has something like 700 calories). This is the sort of thing you drink before going on a walk around the neighborhood to look at Christmas lights and sing carols, tramping on snow in the dark and walking over frozen lakes under the moon. This scent is merry, convivial, sweet, scrumptious, and very festive. wet: a dusting of nutmeg, and for a moment the blissful bottle smell continues... but it transforms onto my skin into a vanilla extract almost immediately. Unfortunately, vanilla is something I only like in French toast. On my body, it smells cheap and plastic. drydown: I have the feeling that other people smelling me would love this scent, because who DOESN'T like vanilla, dammit? Except for me. I don't like vanilla. I like EGG NOG, and feel bitterly cheated. Obviously my chemistry is betraying me. post-conceived notion: I never have liked vanilla as a perfume note. If I'd known this contained vanilla, I would have been a lot more hesitant about spending $44 dollars for a bottle. :/ verdict: a gorgeous scent that transforms into something standard on me. Needs to be with someone who it will bond with properly.

I have a Q-Tip suggestion for you all. Every day, I am fated to use at least one Q-Tip to clean out my ears. BEFORE I use it on the ears, I crack the Q-Tip in half and use the hard end for applying BPAL... and then I turn it around and put the cotton part in my ears. I find this to be economical and environmentally friendly, because I'm actually getting double use out of the Q-Tips I was using anyway.

preconceived notion: None, really. This is the first of four free imps the Lab included with my first offical order that I will be reviewing. However, I'm not much of a magical person and so the Voodoo, Tarot, and Sephiroth lines hold less attraction for me than they might for others. Although I believe that scent can have spiritual effects, in my mind those effects are mediated primarily by the mind and memory and NOT through any supernatural properties that the oils themselves possess. Thus, I disclaim: this review comes from someone with an 'unbeliever' perspective on magic. Therefore, please take my words with a grain of salt if it occurs to you to be inclined to believe in magic. in the bottle: the colour is a rich yellow urea. First whiff clears out my sinuses, therefore I think there is something rather astringent in here. It's very like witch hazel, actually, but there is also the smell of bruised apples and... ink. Fading in and out of the blend is an elusive citrus note that is hard to read, but also there is something like watermelon candies which have been sucked on a little and then spat out, and are not melting on a tar pitch under the direct sunlight of early August. Overall the effect is disturbing; I get the sense of outdoors rituals that involve the spilling of blood and the raping of virgins. It's an elemental, pagan scent that is profoundly attached to the earth, and suggests peace and tranquility purchased through obscene sacrifice. wet: swiping this out, the citrus scent opens up and becomes more obvious, and the sense of death no longer lingers. Instead there is a warm green spicy that reminds me of the darkest center of the forest, a place that does not see direct light ever and which therefore has mushrooms and moss all over, with fallen leaves from many years decomposing into dirt. The sunlight shines through green leaves but little comes directly through. drydown: In one of George Macdonald's books (Phantasies, I think, or perhaps Lilith), there was a rose castle that was beautiful during the day... but even more beautiful at night, when it was haunted by the ghosts of dead aristocrats, who danced in funereal waltzes in a wistful parody of life. This scent is that of death, but a kind of death that mimics life. I find myself both attracted and repelled to this scent. It does not seem strong from far away, but when my wrist is at my nose it comes off as extremely sharp. With time, the greenness fades and something powdery erupts... but all that does is add to the sense of cobwebs over time. This is what Arachne SHOULD have smelled like, IMHO. verdict: I don't know. This scent makes me uneasy. And yet, it is indisputably beautiful. Strange. post-conceived notion: I still do not believe in voodoo, but I cannot deny that this scent creeps me out. The connection of this scent to ancient, wild spiritual functions seems undeniable.

preconceived notions: I'm not so into the Irish thing, nor am I that fond of musk... at least, not for myself. But the description was intriguing and I wondered how it tied into the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund (the charity this scent was made for). So I saw an imp at lj_alchemylab, and decided to give it a shot. in the bottle: utterly clear oil. The scent is spicy and green and extremely male. wet: Is that lemon I smell? The musk continues to give this a really masculine feel. But this would be a very young man... one in his pre-teen to early teen years, just shading into puberty. This would be one of the first scents a boy would purchase on his own and over-wear at his first school dance. It's showy and yet bumblingly sincere, gangly and unsophisticated and yet charmingly direct. Mom might be driving this boy to and from his dates, but he is a creature of great romance already, at least in his own mind. A veritable Don Juan. drydown: This scent stays sweet and true and strong for a long time. It completely is unsuitable for me, but I think a tomboy-type girl could make a lot of use out of it... and any young boy, gay or straight, who is smitten, will charm the socks off both his date and all of the adults around him with his earnest precociousness. verdict: As I said, not for me. post-conceived notion: I will send this off to Cryogenia, who I think should try at least one boyish scent since she's wanting to get into BPAL. ♥

preconceived notion: THIS IS MY SIGNATURE SCENT. Seriously... I love it to some highly desperate degree. in the bottle: almost a purely transparent-coloured oil. This a rose, but such a rose that it really is distinct from any other rose I've tried. It's the full deal: a red, red rose in bloom, along with the heart and the stem and the leaves. This is the rose petal that is good enough to eat: fresh and living and with a hint of sugared waters. Perhaps it is the carnation, but there is an underlying spiciness, but it is very subtle. There might even be a hint of cherry here... it's just that red. wet: a green, almost candyish scent, replaced almost immediately with an exact replica of the incense used at St. Mary's church downtown (in Detroit) during the Latin mass. This reminds me so much of when I went to mass weekly... this is not at all a smoky scent; instead, it's that transient, almost evanescent twinkle of incense that comes briefly to the nose when you sit in the back of the church, and the priest is waving his silver incense-thingie around up front. It's also the residual scent when you go up for communion and take a sip of the red wine. And yet... despite this almost achingly holy scent, it is also a profoundly outdoors scent. That impression of living green roses never fades. I don't get the tea, I don't get the carnation, but whatever they are doing here is perfect and fitting. drydown: the most changeable, complex scent I've tried. Like Athens, this lingers on something fierce, but it seems to morph into something different every fifteen minutes. The scent of incense, the scent of rose... that stays as an undernote. But sometimes it smells like honey, sometimes it smells like crushed velvet, sometimes it smells like a small European bakery, sometimes it smells like turned-over dirt of the Netherlands on a wet spring day, sometimes it smells like a garden of rare flowers, possibly from the land of Lothlorien. Absolutely gorgeous in all of its incarnations; this is the scent of a young, immortal goddess. verdict: perfect. perfect for me. I always want to own this. post-conceived notion: I have a sneaking suspicion that I am nostalgic for high liturgy.

preconceived notion: I've had this on-hand for several weeks now, and have "sampled" it dozens of times at this point. Clearly it's a winner, and I've already ordered a 5ml. But this (along with Maiden) evoked such a positive response from me, that I actually put off reviewing it... because the notes are so complex, the way they wear and morph on my skin is so interesting and evocative, and it seems sort of dubious as to whether I can do this scent any kind of justice. It is, to put is simply, such an artful blend, that appreciation of it for me is on a level with the appreciation of fine literature. Also, my response is fairly personal. I can almost believe this scent was tailor-made just for me. in the bottle: ice-tea colour in the vial. I'd say that the honey and the myrrh are the most prominent notes, creating a tasty blend that reminds me of the sticky-sweet flavour of baklava. This is a very specific kind of honey... perhaps clover honey? The overall impression is that of a rich, ancient Mediterranean dessert. Mmm! wet: honey and... chocolate. Spicy nutty imported high-cocoa chocolate. drydown: this lasts and lasts. The myrrh comes out more and more as time progresses, but the honey lingers, leaving a sweet scent that really is not very "incense-y." This is a really warm scent that seems to have a lot of seasonal flexibility... on the hottest days it is light enough not to be overbearing, and yet on a cold, windy day like today, it really gives off a nice warm impression. Also, it works great as an end-of-the-day scent, because it's better on a body that is not stripped of its own natural oils. This is the kind of scent that makes you not want to bathe because it's just so sexy and feminine, and becomes even more so on a warm, working body. Would be great on a call night. verdict: As I said, this is worth a 5ml... and I will definitely reorder when I run out. Worth hoarding. post-conceived notion: I can't think of anyone I wouldn't recommend this to, at least for a trial run. Although it feels very specific for my skin, I get the impression that it would be rather flexible within a range of body chemistries... perhaps that is the advantage of resurrecting ancient, time-tested blends.

preconceived notion: Honestly, I never would have ordered this, but it was sent to me as a generous freebie imp by lj_vitawash24 with my Kyoto/Hymn request. I used to like cinnamon scents a lot (and I still love cinnamon buns, cinnamon sticks in cider, and cinnamon toast), but after a really bad visceral reaction to the alcoholic beverage Aftershock (a cinnamon-flavoured liqueur that one of my good friends loves), the concept of anything strongly cinnamon make me nauseated. And I mean, literally nauseated. I approach this one with much wariness. in the bottle: standard clear yellowish oil. And, HOLY F**K, this smells like Frankenmuth. Specifically, Bronner's (known throughout Michigan and along I-75 as the World's Largest Christmas Store). Interestingly, this is a very combative scent... the cinnamon is in there, for sure, but the other notes blend together into a spicy floral that is entirely separate from the cinnamon note and actively fighting with it. This is not exactly a harmonious chimera we are talking about here. wet: Sweet, unforgettable Wrigley's Big Red gum. My Aftershock fears appear to be unfounded... I am not getting sick here... but even though the scent seems to be "working" on my skin (meaning, it is staying true to the bottle scent and probably staying true to what it is supposed to smell like), I just cannot like it. Cinnamon needs some butter or apple for me to like it, I think. Another association: cinnmon-scented candles from the Yankee Candle Shop. drydown: This just gets sweeter and sweeter. The Bronner's association is returning, and that's a pleasant thing. But... and I hate to say this... the cinnamon is becoming cloying now. My stomach is feeling ever so slightly unsettled. I am remembering getting drunk on Aftershock and throwing up, multiple times, in Dante's toilet. This is not a pleasant memory. Verdict: Never, ever again. Could be nice on someone not tormented by my cinnamon demons, however. post-conceived notion: I will never try another cinnamon blend unless the words "apple cider" are mentioned prominently in the description. I just don't think I can handle this note.

preconceived notion: The only think I could conceivably love more than a pink scented perfume is one that also has pink glitter in it. Phylox? Honey? Tulips? STRAWBERRIES? Bring it on. in the bottle: sadly, the oil is not pink, but rather the colour of flat champagne. But the smell is redemptive and delightful... this is like a thick strawberry-honey elixir prepared fresh in some distant land of unicorns and Rainbow Brite. Somehow this is a lot richer than a candy smell, and yet doesn't have any of the thickness I associate with frosting or ice cream. If anything it's a summer pink-ambrosia salad, complete with orange slices and nut bits and coconut and marshmallow and pink-coloured whipped cream. It's a perfect chilled dessert, sitting out on a picnic table in a picturesque park next to a middling-sized lake and a grille. wet: delicious. There is a vague spiciness here, but the overall impression is strongly fruity with a hint of soft florals. This smells like a strawberry-flavoured Italian Soda. drydown: this quickly becomes faint but holds on tenaciously with a soft misty sweetness for a few hours before disappearing altogether. Despite claims to gender neutrality, this is perhaps one of the most feminine, nay... girly... scents from BPAL I've tried yet. Only those completely comfortable in their sexuality-- or those with certifiable estrogen reserves-- should venture here. verdict: OMG YES ORGASM MORE PLZ. post-conceived notion: I am a girl and like girly things. So sue me.

preconceived notion: bonfires and witchy cavorting suggests to me something rather wanton. My impulse is to love this muchly, scent unsmelled. in the bottle: dark maple syrupy colour. What I get out of this is a fairly deep evergreen scent which has a delightful touch of foreignness to it. I could easily imagine this scent fitting the Scwartzwald (Black Forest) region of Germany. There is also an undeniable smokey fragrance, however it is more akin to what a cigar puts out than what you get from a wood fire. This is for a still, starry night in early fall when the trees are still green (like right now) and when the outdoors sounds have been muted... the loud crickets and frogs of summer are replaced with something more lulling, but they are still there. wet: This is the first "gender neutral" scent I've tried that did not scream "boy" at me, and for this I'm grateful. The green scent here is so different from that of Val Sans Retour... that smells like fresh growing pine, whereas this smells warmer, richer...it almost has a honey note to it. Treesap. Also, the spice of incense comes out, but this is a smokey, adulterated incense that is both complex and more beautiful than what I would expect. drydown: God, this is gorgeous. In fact, it almost perfectly reminds me of Halloween trick-or-treat nights. It also reminds me of when I used to live in Detroit, and had my apartment in the sky, and would watch the fires of Devil's Night from my God's Eye view 19 floors up, distant enough to find them beautiful instead of frightening. Verdict: I WANT MORE. DAMMIT. post-conceived notion: spring and fall are my favourite seasons, and this scent kind of mixes up the best of both of them in one sexy, impressive night. Amazing. This scent is pure Herongale love.

pre-conceived notion: Because of Twilight, which is also in the Funereal Oils line, I am looking forward to this one. Also, look.... rose! But no lavender! And lilac! Lilac is one of my favourite springtime plants. We have a lilac tree at my parent's house, and lilacs bloom all over my hometown. Once, when I was in high school, I went with my friend Doug to some party with his Youth Group friends. He drove, so I don't remember how we got there... but the road approaching the house was lined all along its length with lilacs, all in bloom. Windows down, the scent was indescribable and now, in memory, it haunts me... because I no longer remember where that place was, even though it is so close... and because I can't describe the event very well to Doug (I don't remember anything about the party except that we all ran around in the dark playing stupid kid games for hours and hours), he can't tell me where it is either. Anyway, the point of all this reminiscence is that I am very much disposed to approve of a scent that smells authentically of lilac. in the bottle: yellow coloured oil with just the faintest greenish tinge. I am becoming quite the expert recognizer of rose tones, and that is what comes at me first... this is a crushed rosebud, with a chlorophyll scent that makes it more green than most roses I'm used to. I smell something else that is floral, which I'm guessing is the wisteria... sadly, I do not detect any lilac at all. wet: green floral, primarily rose. Like every other rose scent, this seems to work great on my skin... but I do have to say that this is probably not my favourite. I don't get where the "du mal" bit comes in... this is not an evil scent. It is merely fragrant. drydown: continued faint fading of the rose. Not any detectable lilac at any moment; I guess that makes sense, if I consider the fact that lilac is such a delicate scent that is likely to be overwhelmed by any other competing fragrance. *sighs* Oh well. It's pretty but not really grabbing me, I guess. verdict: there is no shame in wearing this, but I will not get more. Other rose blends work better for me. post-conceived notion: I feel inspired to find the perfect pure lilac. Time to go back to the Lab and search the website for a likely scent.

Old) Kyoto (Wanderlust line) preconceived notion: There are two notes here that automatically alarm me: the cherry and the anise. Anise, which is a kind of licorice substitute, is one of those very pungent smells that you either love or hate... and for me, the needle has always tilted inexhortably to the "hate" side if my personal scent compass. However... and this is key... I love the idea of smelling like Kyoto. So I got myself an impie, despite my deep reservations. in the bottle: Straw-colored oil. And... hey! The first thing this reminds me of is cherry brandy. It's that rich syrupy chocholatey cherry that Christmas Cherries smell (and taste) like. I really think it is the anise which is providing that darker chocolate kick, which makes me happy. Instead of smelling like a medicinal candy, which I feared, this smells like a holiday liqueur. wet: Cherry candy! Shockingly pretty. There is no way that sitting under blooming cherry trees in spring smells like this, however. I will have to go to DC this spring to confirm (Kyoto is a bit too far away for a random jaunt), but I'm pretty sure that cherry trees in bloom would have a greener, more delicate scent to them. Still, the anise is behaving itself and acting appropriately, as if in a supporting role. drydown: as time passes, the anise insidiously takes over. The scent goes from a rich glowing ruby-red candy cherry to a blackberry licorice. And, sadly, I HATE LICORICE. verdict: not for me. Passing this one on to a more deserving Nipponophile. post-conceived notion: mostly my reaction to the anise side of this scent was predictable. I'm actually surprised that I liked it for as long as I did. Although I intend to avoid anise in the future, I might have to rethink my position on cherry. (Oh, and here's a fun licorice fact: it is illegal in the United States to sell any licorice-flavoured product with actual licorice in it. All US licorice is actually flavoured with anise. The reason for this is that overconsumption of licorice can fuck up one's potassium levels by effecting the way that the kidney manages potassium.)

Hymn (Sin and Salvation line) preconceived notion (a new feature of my reviews): Rose, myrrh, and frankincense? Sounded like a perfect mix for me. It has been my growing sense that scents that have to do with goodness and purity do better on me than those which are more evil/naughty/overtly sexual. in the bottle: A clear light golden color. My first whiff gives me the impression of a spicy rose; this is a very strong yet pure scent, very floral. However, I don't get the sense of a natural floral (nor even a natural rose... one of the best roses I've come across is the recently released Stella McCartney scent, Stella). Although there is something about this that reminds me of Seraphim, for some reason this comes off as darker and more perfumey. wet: Scrumptuous. Very pretty. The rose becomes more realistic. This is what I imagine the roses of Revolutionary Girl Utena smell like... kind of portentious, ya know? drydown: my first babypowder conversion. However, and this is noteworthy, my mom told me that I smelled like 'incense' at the same time I was smelling Johnson and Johnsons. So apparently what I smell on my skin is different from what other people smell, at least for this fragrance. verdict: nice. But not quite right for me. I think I'll use the rest (unless I find someone else who I think this will suit better), but I won't buy any more. post-conceived notion: my idea that I am suited for the angelic scents and that they are suited for me seems to still hold, but it requires some tweaking. Clearly, not ALL of the goldie scents are Herongale-appropriate. However, I do feel that this scent confirms my idea that rose notes like me.

Saint-Germain (Bewitching Brews) in the bottle: Almost totally clear with a touch of milkiness. The scent is VERY manly. So manly that I hesitate to even know how to describe it, other than to say that it smells like a really f**king hot guy. I guess there are flowers in here, but there's also a rich tobacco note as well as a faint touch of something alcoholic. I really am at a loss; the notes all fade into something that I want to call "tight ass beauty." But surely that is inappropriately vague. wet: okay, on me I get a citrus note, and more of the hottness. ... wow. This is like pheromones but all funky and masturbatory and stuff. I want to f**k myself with my non-existent c**k. *fans self* drydown: This here is too much man-flesh scent for this woman to tolerate. I'm too sexy for myself and that perplexes me. It's a delicious rich scent that would be perfect on any person with testosterone ambitions. verdict: Not something I'd buy for me, but something I'd enjoy on just about anyone else. *hints hints* (ps, I'm not sure of the acceptability of all the words I used in this review for this forum, so to be safe I put stars in the more naughty ones. Please rest assured that when I originally wrote this and put it on my LJ, all bad words were totally intact)

Lolita (Love Potions line) in the bottle: flax-colored oil (if one wonders how many different adjectives I can come up with to describe yellow oils, wonder no longer... I have a 500 page Dictionary of Colour at my elbow and am not afraid to use it!). Spicy bubblegum is my first impression, but this is a very different kind of scent from Arachne (the other bubblegum-ish scent I've tried)... this fragrance has a certain heft and arch charm that immediately draws me in. Complexity. wet: Oooh, easter candy! The initial smell is a rush of crystal pink-coloured sugar, but almost instantly (like a dueling symphony), the peppery spice note comes out, like a really naughty kiss. drydown: This is a long lasting, cute floral that really does a million different things on me, depending on the location. For example, I wore it yesterday at Kensington park, and under direct sunlight it becomes a thick amber syrup of honey and honesuckle; under the variegated light of trembling leaves, it becomes more dusky, like a young rose. I feel tasty and sexy wearing this, and yet completely naive... it's perfect for these late summer days, but I also sense that it will do well for me in the coldness of late fall and winter. verdict: YES. I'm keeping this, will use it up, and plan on getting more on my next Lab order. Wonderfully Herongalian (whatever the hell THAT means!).

Eve (Excolo line) in the bottle: colour of the oil is a clear goldenrod. There is a whole mix of delicious scents going on here, but I have to admit that I get the faintest whiff of something medicinal... almost like turpentine. But that makes it sound like it smells bad, when in fact this is one of the nicest scents I've tried out yet. I've given this one lots of thought and have worn it around 7 times now, so that has definitely colored my "in-the-bottle" impression; I think I was not so fond of it the first time I smelled it before putting it on my skin, but at this point I know what is coming. wet: this is a perfect outdoors floral, reminds me of a garden of roses I saw in Florence a few years ago. There is something distinctly Italian about this, a post-Roman Mediterranian tang that reminds me of high muggy skies, white walls, and bottled water in cafes. Malta smells a little like this too, in the higher-end residential areas where the flowers are blooming in May. This scent is a closed-away garden next to the bluest, calmest sea you have ever seen. drydown: roses and honeys together seem to love me especially well. This lasts and lasts and becomes more and more beautiful as it lingers. This is the brown-skinned innocence of early humanity in it's most beautiful, perfect form. Tigris and Euprates, the north coast of Africa... there is something essential and timeless about this scent. Perfectly evocative of the ideal of Eve. verdict: LOVE this. Perfect for me. Have ordered a 5ml and will probably always have some of this on hand for the rest of my life.

in the bottle: clear yellow. The scent is sharp, a kind of buttery green. It's the way tree roots smell when unearthed and scraped until they are bleeding, plus a collection of new spring flowers. I definitely see why this is considered a gender-neutral scent... for some reason the first whiff altogether comes off like men's shaving cream. Possibly Old Spice. wet: whatever that green scent is really amps up. I suspect that there is something "aquatic" going on here, if aquatic means "vaguely astringent" (which is my new impression of the term status post R'yleh exposure). But almost instantly, this scent disperses, and I am left with clean florals that are really pleasant to experience. The green remains as an under-note, but on top of that is a mess of wildflowers such as trillium and lily of the valley, or bleeding hearts (I'm mostly just guessing here, but these are some of the flowers I detect). dry: stays pretty but fades very quickly. I think there may be some lavender in. Until it goes, it becomes increasingly refined and subtle. The effect is fascinating, and hard to explain. Gone in less than an hour. verdict: probably very beautiful on the right body. For me, it's nice... but it seems wasteful for me to use up this imp when it will likely do better on someone else. Swap pile! (edited for minor grammar issues)

in the bottle: Some people get a watery deep brooding underwater grapefruit scent out of this. For me, my first impression is Vic's Vapour Rub. This is a significantly astringent scent. I can tell that there's some kind of evergreen sap thing going on here, which I'm told is pine, but it reminds me more of witch hazel. This is sharp, redolent of ginger ale and... the Yankee Candle Company. I do not get the impression of a broiling, evil ocean; instead, all I can really picture is sense is the concept of medicine (possibly Pepto Bismol) and wax. Not promising. wet: placed on my pulse points, I again have the impression of menthol clearing out my sinuses. There is nothing girly about this scent at all, but I would be hard pressed to want to put this on a man. I do get a little of the "salt" impression, though... it's like a Lush bath bomb that I tried in Malta, one which turned the water of my bath a really lovely Easter Egg blue and which released little bits of seaweed as the bicarb fizzled. As the menthol dries, the scent becomes more spicy and appealing, but I can tell even now that this scent is not me. dry: I did the ultimate test, which was mixing it with my Korres guava body butter and seeing if this made me smell like Scar's lover. Sadly, it did not. Verdict: Nein. It's imitation grapefruit at best, nothing like the pure scent of Hermes.

in the bottle: cloudy white transparent oil. The top note is the pear. This smells like my dream pear; usually when I eat pears, I find them disappointingly dusty and wooden and not all that yummy. But THIS smells just like my hopes for all pears; this is the way pears smell in heaven. It's sweet and lush and basically makes my mouth water just by uncapping it. wet: Sweet, perfect pear. Like the syrup that pear halves come in. drydown: Eventually I get hints of the rose coming through, but I can't really distinguish the other notes. This is a fairly long lasting and entirely pleasant scent. Clean. I get the feeling that it would work well for a lot of different people; it's both floral and fruity, fresh and yet sweet. verdict: a definite winner. I'd get a 5ml of this.

official description: none unofficial description (from a website I googled, first hit): translated "the valley of no return," this is "a lush valley that, according to the Vulgate Cycle, Morgan (le Fay) sealed off by an enchantment. This established invisible prison walls in which she imprisoned her lovers. Legend places this valley in Brittany's Forest of Paimpont, the Brocéliande of romance, and a valley in the forest still bears that name." in the bottle: clear. It's a very strong pine scent, but somehow also strongly citrus... for some reason I really get fresh grapefruit out of this. Juicy and bright. wet: initially I was very ambivalent about how this scent worked with my body chemistry, but I've tried it several times now, using different shampoos and body soaps as the "base," and can say that it does work on me... even if it doesn't exactly work with me. This is a scent that absolutely wants to do it's own thing. The pine scent deepens, becoming almost spicy, and gives me the impression of a deep and shadowy forest. In general it's a calming and quiet scent, with little projection... I can only smell it if I put my nose right up to my wrist. This is like an evergreen forest in summer: spindly needles warmed by the sun, with a hint of moss and marshes. drydown: The citrus notes become more prominent, but never can quite overcome the piney resin. Seems to work better on me when the weather is cool... when I first tried it, the days were really hot, and the scent struck me as somehow unpleasant. But now, with fall undeniably in the air, the scent is becoming more and more agreeable to me. I think this will be a good scent to keep around in the middle of the winter; I expect it to smell best in January. verdict: I'm not going to go out of my way to horde more of this, but I will use up what I've got.

in the bottle: A clear light yellow color. The immediate scent is that of a mildly astringent Bubbilicious bubble gum. Although in other reviews this is listed as a delicate scent, in the bottle it hits me like a pink chewy brick... it's not subtle to me at all. I would like to point out, also, that this scent is about as "gender neutral" as my breasts. If I am going to imagine anything, it is that of a 9-year old girl playing with her Strawberry Shortcake dolls. The scent is not repellant, but nothing about it moves me either. Fairly one-note. wet: It's even more like bubblegum. But somehow my feelings are softening. Even though it's a strong scent, it's pleasant and yummy. I want to lick my wrists continually with this on (in fact, I did once... trust me, not a good idea). It's really that juicy first bite into a really large piece of pink bubblegum-flavoured bubblegum... prolonged. The notes are sugary and alive. drydown: This is a weird scent. I keep wanting to smell it, and then say "mmm... I love it... no, wait. I don't." The gum scent doesn't ever go away, but it does become light fairly quickly and yet sticks around for a long time... several hours, in fact. It's almost like my skin WANTS to like it, but deems it too artificial. Maybe even too young. This is something that would well suit a pink-loving young goth... but it should be someone who likes to wear pink and black together. For someone like me, who is purely a pink and white girl, it doesn't quite suit. verdict: I like it, may keep the imp, but would not buy any more.

in the bottle: The color is clear. I get a sweet citrusy scent right up, kind of like orange peel. There is also a kind of candy thing going on, like lemon sours that people like to leave in candy jars at work. It smells green and leafy and luscious. I'm sure that Mrs. Frisby would approve. wet: The candy smell becomes a lot stronger, with a kind of sugary greenness that is rather pleasing. I feel that this is an unobjectionable scent. Despite my descriptions, there is something indoors and stuffy about the scent... it wants to be about being outside, but instead is trapped underneath the lee stone in Farmer Fitzgibbon's gardens, yearning to be free. False citrus, too sweet to be real... it's the scent of being cooped up and yet trying to make the best of it. A pale shade of summer. dry: Fussy. A more floral note comes out... probably the peony. I don't get any sense that this smells like tea at all. verdict: in the bottle it's nice, clean and inviting, but on me it turns into a candle shop. No.

in the bottle: The lavender is obvious even before popping the cap. I've had a very complex relationship with lavender essential oils in the past, so I approach this one with some leeriness. However, the scent is sweet and true: pure lavender. I don't pick up the jasmine, but the honeysuckle is something that I figured out last night when I put it on before going to bed during that dry down, even before knowing that it was there... so now, trying to find it, I do detect a kind of sweetness that is atypical of lavender. It kind of moderates and smooths out the tones here. I do not get any Thomas Hardy wandering-the-heath vibes, but this scent is more substantial than the typical lavender satchels one can buy to put in with clean laundry to make it smell nice. wet: lavender like WHOA. My past experiences cause me to fear that this will curdle with my body chemistry, turning into a very unattractive and lingering odor... but somehow, perhaps because of all the sweet undertones, the scent does not change. This is not yummy but it is girly, but in a far more sophisticated way than seraphim is. Perhaps because of the name, but even more because I am aware of the supposedly sophoric effects of lavender in traditions outside of mere homeopathy, I find that this scent is very relaxing. Better than incense for striking up a meditative mood, in fact. dry: it's amazing, but the honeysuckle really does come to dominate after a while. I love honeysuckle... it's such a bright and yet unassuming scent, and is very evocative of childhood memories from my time in grade school. Buttery and yet clear, honeysuckle blends with the lavender to create a really gorked out mood. I feel like being nice to everyone and talking on and on and on. I also wouldn't mind taking a nap. <3 Verdict: Not as showy as Seraphim, but more complex and delicate. I think I could grow to like this one very much, but even as is, I would definitely be interested in more. A winner!

Seraphim In the bottle: this is very sweet. It reminds me of one of the cardinal Aveda blends, and is actually not dissimilar to the personalized blend I had made up for me a year or so ago. I get whiffs of baby powder, geranium, and even magnolia. The rose is only obvious once I am looking for it. The overall impression is that of something clean but abundantly floral and fragrant. Dry (because I have some on right now, about 3 hours old, so will describe this first): The scent remains pretty true to what I get from the bottle, but more muted and somehow "yummy." I find myself wanting to gnaw on my wrist. Wet (a new swipe cometh): Again, this is utterly true to the bottle scent. It's like a candy almost. I feel like a hip Momoko doll with this on. Some of the accents remind me of my grandmother: old-fashioned, a little Fashion 220-ish. But the overall impression is that this is very girly and young. It seems to suit my body chemistry v. well. Verdict: would buy a 5ml! For sure!