herongale

I'm looking for a fresh, non-candyish scent, and one that specifically smells like rasberries and not berries in general. Any ideas? <3

pre-conceived notion: well, isn't that a vague description? This will be a good test of my nose's power, because I don't know what other people find in this scent (and I won't until I check up on the review page at the BPAL forums), so this scent comes to me as a true blank slate. I have absolutely no expectations, other than the fact that this ought to be fairly sexy (and hopefully not syphlitic). in the imp: my god... lavender?! Lavender and... cherry popsicles? I don't think it's possible to understate the popsicle scent here. This smells like a red popsicle right as you are sucking the last bit of cherry ice off the birch wood stick (google tells me that popsicle sticks are made of birch, but I'm going to be honest and say that the wood I'm smelling is more like Balsa wood). wet: definitely the most prominent note is lavender. I'd stake my reputation on it. The specifically popcicle scent fades but there is a remainder of cherry blossom sweetness that makes me suspect the tiniest amount of dragon's blood resin (which would have to be quite remote, because this is a clear coloured oil). Strikingly similar to Twilight, which had honeysuckle in it, but I'm going to guess that this has a different floral component to offset the purple sleepiness of lavender. drydown: rose! Rose comes in over the lavender, and magnifies it into something rather grand. It's a very balanced scent, sweet and feminine. Old-fashioned, though. verdict: interesting, but not "wow" like a Sophia Loren. I'm going to reserve judgement, but I don't think this is going to go on my list of scents that I want 5ml bottles of. post-conceived notion: now it's time for me to read the forum reviews and see how totally wrong I am about the notes...

pre-conceived notion: This is another gifty from <lj user="sky_dark">. The name makes me think that this should have been a Halloween scent, but apparently this goes with Christmas. Looking at the notes and the description, I can see why, but still there's a disconnect. What about Christmas is spooky? Christmas is gay and festive and nostalgic... not scary. At least (let me qualify), it's not scary for ME. I guess that even Casper the Friendly Ghost had to celebrate the winter holidays in some fashion... I'm going to guess that this is his signature Saturnalia scent. in the imp: peppermint and butterscotch candies. It's like a small Connecticut candy shop where toffee and fudge are handmade during the summer, and mints and caramels and Turkish Delights are made for December and a little bit beyond. wet: no change... it's still a candy shop, with jingle bells on the door to announce visitors. drydown: I'm supposed to get cookies out of this, but it never happens. Intead, this is a pepperment candy cane down to the bitter end, with a little bit of warm butterscotch peeking out from time to time. It's pretty and delicious and cold; a very winter scent. verdict: interesting. I don't think I'd buy more, but it's nice to kick around and I'll probably use it come this winter. post-conceived notion: playful and silly, this is clearly a child's scent, but one that could appeal to the child in anyone. I'm 31 years old, and it grabs me with a sort of fundamental Nutcracker charm. I think I'm much better off testing holiday scents around the time when the holiday actually is occuring... I think my emotional connection to this scent would be a lot more impressive come 24 December.

pre-conceived notion: I don't consider myself as enthralled by any kind of animal-spirit, let along any wolf spirit, so it seems to me that this one is going to be a miss right out of the box. I do, however, love juniper and cypress and although I never thought of eucalyptus plants as having any kind of strong scent, I do enjoy how cooling eucalyptus balm is for sunburned skin. in the imp: turpentine and dill, with an odd touch of rosemary. It's like cooking with Van Gogh. wet: the turpentine scent mellows quickly and I now can recognize it for what it actually is-- juniper. This has a fresh evergreen forest quality that I quite like. For some reason I thought that a wolfy scent should have musk in it, but this one doesn't, nor does it smell like it ought to. This makes me happy, because I think musk would be too animal and obvious for a werewolf. However, there is a smell here that is unmistakably like these scratch-and-sniff pickle stickers I used to get when I was a kid, a dill/rosemary herbal scent that makes my skin smell more like a rustic Italian kitchen than anything else. drydown: a pickle forest, with a touch of... coconut? There's this thread of white shredded sweetness that underlies the scent that is really unexpected. It's not unwelcome, but it doesn't really blend with the top notes and makes for a very conflicted scent experience. It's not complex, it's a clash of two scents that are disagreeable with each other and moody about having to share skin space. Possibly a worthy theme for a wolf/man hybrid, but as a scent it doesn't really grab me. verdict: eh. Not phenomenal, but not off-putting either. Would be good for someone who like masculine foresty scents. post-conceived notion: juniper is a powerful note and tends to carry very strongly in my nose, and I suspect it will be tricky for me to find a good juniper blend that I really like (other than in Rome, where the juniper is matched with a scent that is even more powerful for me-- rose).

pre-conceived notion: The idea behind this line doesn't appeal to me, because Alice in Wonderland is just... ugh. Not a book I adore, let's just say. If LJ user Sky_Dark hadn't sent this to me as a freebie among her various castaways, I certainly never would have sought it out on my own... despite the fact that the various notes are not at all objectionable to me. I approached this one with low expectations. in the imp: Veeeeeery surprising, this is a green living smell without any kind of artifice. It smells like the roots of clover weeds pulled right after a cool summer thunderstorm. I can pick out the pepper, but it doesn't come off as spicy or sharp... it's more like a cracked stalk of fresh celery, or a cucumber salad dressed with oil and vinegar. Clean, and sweet. I like it. wet: This is lovely and sweet and feminine without being at all floral. The green scent continues, but I can also see how this is like a honey-sweetened milk tea. The honey is there, but it's not the rich oriental honey of Skuld. Or rather, it's the same honey scent, but very much muted and supportive. I like having the honey peeking out of the background rather than dominating. My feeling for "clover" has come back in full force, and this reminds me of the purple-white clover that I used to pick and then suck the nectar out of when I was very young. drydown: what a lasting, true fragrance! I like this because it's the sort of thing I could see myself wearing indoors while around a lot of people. It's not very strong and it's extremely inoffensive from afar, but close up (when I sniff my wrists) I get this soft white glowing scent that is utterly refreshing. verdict: this imp is going to become my signature scent of Spring 2006, and I can see myself getting a 5ml bottle when I run out. post-conceived notion: my distaste for the concept of Alice-inspired fragrances has significantly mellowed following this experience. What a nice, unexpectedly nuanced scent. I consider myself humbled.

preconceived notion: when I was a medical student living downtown in my fancy Mies Van de Rohe highrise, I observed several Devil's Night celebrations from my perch 19 stories up from the world. I had the most spectacular view in that apartment... I had a south-east facing view, so I was looking out over Jefferson Ave. as it made its distant, unexpected course into the richest area of Michigan, Grosse Pointe (which was quite too far away for me to see). I also had a lovely view of Windsor across the river, Windsor being a well-kept city that was everything Detroit was not, and probably could not, be. I loved living in Detroit. One of the things I loved best was sitting at my huge plate-glass windows at looking out over a nighttime scene, watching all the yellow lights trail off into the bones of a city. Devil's Night in Detroit is celebrated with fire. Not so much these days, now that it's been renamed "Angel's Night" and a volunteer army of concerned citizens has taken to patrolling the streets on the night before Halloween. But the burning down of abandoned buildings still occurs, and it was quite common when I lived downtown. I remember one Devil's Night where I counted a dozen simultaneous fires from my window. I was never afraid of the fires; from far away, they only looked beautiful.\\ in the bottle: a warm, toasted almond scent. There is a faint hint of the cider/burning leaves scent that draws me to Hexennacht, but overall this is a soft and inviting scent that almost immediately makes me feel hungry. My stomach starts to growl the instant I smell it; the effect is exactly what Gluttony should be like (although that's a scent I haven't yet tried). wet: the nutty smell becomes stronger, and on my skin it takes a sweet air that is extremely pleasant. It reminds me a lot of Silk Road, with a bit of a stronger sense of bread and spices and sustinance. However, it's really weird... the few times I've tried this scent, it makes me UNBELIEVABLY hungry. Wearing it only heightens the effect. I get so hungry it's almost like a headache. I've never experienced anything like this with a scent before, and I don't know whether to laud it as an interesting effect, or curse it for how it makes me want to gnosh down on candycorn. I want to emphasize how lovely I find this scent, because it's complex and light and wonderful... but the effects on me are nothing less than drug-like. Very peculiar. drydown: I think I'd wear this scent if I were attending a medieval feast, one with roasted steaks and cranberry jellies and mead. Maybe the kind of feast the Whos in Whoville enjoy on Christmas evening... the sort where you have nothing to do the next day, so all you have to do is eat and drink and then lie back and cuddle with a loved one. This is a sitting by the fire scent, even though I don't get the sense of smoke from it at all. This is a good drinking scent, even though I don't get anything like the boozy notes that are supposed to be present. All I get is the warm, curling scent of toasted nuts and sweet spices, and it makes me so ravenous that I cannot understand what is going on. verdict: a wonderful but dangerous scent. post-conceived notion: this might be the first scent that I've simulatenously adored and been afraid to use. It's amazingly potent and evocative. The mood is exactly right, and I'd have to say that this is one of the lab's most impressive creations. If only it weren't so deadly effective, I'd make this a staple in my everyday life. I think I'm going to have to stick with Silk Road. It's a lot safer.

reaction: When this dries down it is actually a very pleasant honey fragrance, sweet and almost alive. But before that it's a riot of unacceptably sweet candies. This does not make me think of the Norn of classical mythology. This makes me think of the overly-endowed anime character of "Oh! My Goddess." I am conflicted, because I really want to like this fragrance because conceptually, it is very "me." However, it's too much like an indistinguished, clumsy young nymph of the Lolita class. verdict: This is the kind of fragrance that would have best suited me in grade school, when I was nourishing my Narnia fetish. Now? I think I'll pass.

reaction: Well, back to the annis tutorial. Annis is a plant which provides a licorice-like extract that is used in the US to flavour licorice candies instead of, well, licorice. The reasons behind this are tedious be the main thing to know is that annis REALLY IS A LOT LIKE LICORICE. When I saw this as a freebie from the lab I groaned, because annis is one of my nemesis fragrances. In the imp I can totally smell the licorice, but it also smells like shoe leather and... capers. This causes much shuddering, but I put some on the dorsum of my right index finger. I am a sport. I will try anything once. This goes on surprisingly soft, but before I can kneel down and say prayers of thanksgiving for the lack of offensiveness, it turns totally babypowder. Evil, insideous babypowder. It's a kind of lavendery-annisy fragrance, giving it a sickeningly sweet undertone like rotting fruit. I don't get vetivert or civit or any of the other frighteningly non-girly things this fragrance is meant to represent, but I think that all of these manly musky pungent notes are coming together to give me the sad, sad fragrance of a squished mosquito in June. verdict: not QUITE as bad as Lush's Figs and Leaves soap, but getting there. Yech.

I am perfectly content with wearing Sympathy for the Skin all on it's own, but I'd love to pair it with BPAL. I'm looking for a scent that is either a close match, or at least supportive of the Sympathy smell. (And yeah, I've read this thread through and although this question was asked once early on, there really wasn't any follow-up answer to it). Sympathy has become a serious addiction for me and currently I will forswear BPAL on the days I'm wearing it. But obviously that is no good for the long term. So help me, BPAL forumites! You are my only hope.

preconceived notion: Does anyone remember that book that came out several years back, Reviving Ophelia? It was all about how young girls fuck themselves over, and how concerned citizens can help. At least, that's what the blurb on the back of the book promised; I never really read it. In any case, Ophelia has always struck me as the most trendy of the Shakespearian females: she is the perennial emo, in any case. My expectations are for a delicately beautiful floral. in the imp: this is rasberry candy and sugar and cream, and reminds me somewhat of Pink Moon. It's a girly, simple fragrance. wet: This makes me smell like STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE. I don't know whether to be fascinated or appalled. drydown: Rose, of the Bonnie Bell variety. verdict: cute, but not me. post-conceived notion: IF YOU'RE EMO AND YOU KNOW IT, SLIT YOUR WRISTS. *swish, swish* (*) (*)the "emo and you know it" song does not originate with me, but with some brilliant LJer unknown to me

preconceived notion: I might be a little high on caffeine. My reviews from here in are not to be trusted. This one will be the last one I do tonight because I am starting to get a little agitated with the BPAL and I don't want to snap and have the federal marshals come hunt me down. in the imp: Ooooh, easy. THIS ONE HAS PATCHOULI. I know because it is helping to make me high. wet: this is delta-of-venus sexy. I'm guessing it has a secret blend of five rapturous patchoulis plus green tea. drydown: Mmm.... I actually love this, even though I am not usually a patchouli fan. Ergo, I must be mistaken and there is probably also sandalwood in. The sexiness is mysterious. Maybe also there is some hemp flowers and nicotinia in here. verdict: yes? postconceived notion: I AM CUTTING MYSELF OFF.

preconceived notion: I do not have much trust for a scent which is pretty much intended to mask a multitude of sins. When I'm dirty I want to revel in it, to smell like dirt and sweat and sex. What is the point in covering that up with flimsy linen? Wouldn't that make me a whited sepulcher? Don't I become unbearably moralistic at 1am? in the imp: this smells like the 80s. THE 80s. Nuff said. wet: the benefit of smelling like a laundromat is.... wait. There is no benefit in smelling like a laundromat. drydown: a whole lot of nothing much. verdict: this is my quickest BPAL dismissal ever. Witness the power of prejudice in action. post-conceived notion: Okay, okay... so this was "pretty" and "floral" and whatever. Something about it struck me as fake and therefore I have judged it to be lame. BPAL, I am sorry, but not everything can be a home run. If my reviews hurt, please remember: it is only chemistry, baby.

preconceived notion: My guess is that I am going to like this, but it is going to smell like rose, and I am going to have a hard time distinguishing this rose from the other 45489739 million rose varieties that also smell good on me. in the imp: ... maybe I spoke too soon. In the imp this smells like roses and red wine, almost like communion wine, with the wine actually dominating. The effect is stunning and surprising. wet: But wouldn't you know it, on the skin it turns pretty much into pure rose. *pouts* Yes, I love rose, and yes, this is lovely. But my relationship with rose is a given. I want that red wine scent to linger but no dice. drydown: Bah. A rose by any other name STILL WON'T SMELL LIKE LOVELY HONEY COMMUNION WINE ON MY SKIN, no matter how much I plead with the powers of the universe and call upon the alchemical processes which transform and illuminate the soul. verdict: Another nice rose, but not distinctive. I would wear this without hesitation anywhere, however. post-conceived notion: my affinity for rose is a double-edged sword at times.

preconceived notion: I had my own personal Adonis that I fell in love with in eighth grade: he was a boy with blue eyes like slivers of sky and silver-gold hair as brilliant as the sun and whenever I was out doing my paper route on a lovely day I would take peeks at both and feel deliciously naughty, because it seemed like even the heavens were conspiring in my crush. I still love the idea of hair that is as beautiful and floating as spun gold, and although that kind of hair belongs best to a choirboy I'll pretend that it is possible to find perfect child's hair on the head of a man. This is, after all, the hair I dream for Edward Elric. /end TMI hair talk. in the imp: Holy Mary, Mother of God, the Lord is With Thee! *suggestive leer* This is a lovely beautiful gorgeous (aye, RAPTUROUS) sweet scent that has the same golden beauty of Tamora, only sanctified-- and de-peachified. I haven't had any kind of inspiration for layering with BPAL yet but somehow I think that the two of these together would create a beautiful and irresistable time bomb, and so after I review this one "straight" I'm going to swipe some Tamora over it and let you know (in three words or less) how this works as a combo. A Sacred and Profane Love Machine, if you will. (The fact that I am now making gratuitous Iris Murdoch references should give you all a hint to my current zen state of BPAL reviewing). wet: This is basically Chiroptera without the headache, a lovely blend of night-blooming flowers led by the jasmine. Lush has taught me to respect the jasmine, for it is a perfect flower that sinks nicely into my skin, and I'm having visions of using this with my Fairy Jasmine bath ballistic and AM GETTING CHILLS. OMG jasmine, where have you been all my life? I adore you. I want to marry you. Run away with me (and Scar) and have lovely flower-scented children with me. drydown: jasmine and a smart incense blend. HEAVEN IN A ONE ML PLASTIC CONTAINER. Tamora plus Ave Maria Experiment: OMG ORGASM YES. verdict: FOREVER MINE. If BPAL ever discontinues this I will cry. post-conceived notion: now, if only I used this with Snowcake soap.... *dies*

preconceived notion: RANT WANK CENTRAL. I am seriously anticipating that this scent will give me road rage (and, more likely, net rage) and have planned accordingly. To countermand this, I will play soothing music from Secret Garden. in the imp: Altogether, the result of this explosive fury gives me the impression of: chocolate lilacs. LILACS. Beware the Ides of Lilacs. The chocolate bit is kind of a dusty cocoa and the lilacs waver suspiciously like a mirage, the dragon's blood undernote flitting in and out of the frame seductively. And, sniffing it the bottle one more time, I am struck with a third and most powerful association: this smells EXACTLY LIKE CHRISTMAS PUDDING. And I should know, because I had some just two days ago. Fuck. I'm enraged now, if only because this is the most Care Bear scent I've come across and it's called "Rage." To this I say O RLY and NO WAI. wet: chocolate dragon's blood. Yes, I know: inexplicable. drydown: okay, now this is really warm and dragon's blood-y and reminds me of French Love. And the only rage I get out of it is the WHITE HOT RAGE OF HOTTNESS. verdict: tragically misnamed, but I love it. post-conceived notion: I am seriously in need of a good lilac scent. This one teased me a bit but left me fundamentally unsatisfied in my quest. I have, however, recently found a website that interests me: http://www.highlandlilac.com./ . It's not BPAL but I'm going to totally give it a shot.

preconceived notion: Rapturous, eh? You know, I tend to take things over-the-top sometimes, and god knows I'm a sucker for really descriptive ad copy. This might, however, go Too Far. in the imp: whoa, fuck, this is BROWN. This is seriously the darkest oil I've encountered yet, and it smells like... Lampades. Just the way Imp does. The common denominator in all three is musk: Lampades has "sensual musk," Imp has "golden musk," and now there's this: "sensual red musk." Therefore this is making me think that my nose has a serious affinity for musk, so much so that it overpowers pretty much anything else in the blend: here, even roses. I'm glad that I like musk, of course, because in each case I get this delicious berry-like smell that reminds me of grapes and Freya's tigers. But it's a little disappointing because I'd like to be able to differentiate the blends for their unique qualities, and I kind of suspect I won't be able to. wet: Hey, this even goes on with a purple-brown tint (although if you rub it in it disappears readily). And the musky Lampades-Imp connection continues on strong. drydown: This is subtle and pretty and exactly like Lampades. verdict: I only need one Lampades, and I smelled that one first so it's got dibs on my loyalties. post-conceived notion: Sorry, Spellbound, with your overwrought rapturity! Better luck next time.

preconceived notion: Rose! It's been a while since I've reviewed a rose (think the last one was Pride). Now, I've had this imp around for quite a while and have sampled it several times, so it's a little hard to recall what my thoughts were before putting my hands on it. However, I've been to Rome, which is an amazingly lovely white city that looks to me like it is sitting in a bowl lined with cypress trees, full of marble monuments and dark-haired Italians driving around on mini motorbikes. It's a busy, lively city, and even with all the tourists strikes me as a wonderful place to live. in the imp: almost a minty rose, but with careful sleuthing it's clear that what first strikes me as mint is really the sharp green tang of juniper. Rome has many public rose gardens with lovely cultivated roses of impressive lineage, and I remember walking around in one on a hill that smelled almost exactly like this. IIRC it was near the Circus Maximus. This also reminds me of the Boboli gardens in Florence, which were one of my favourite places to read in Europe. wet: total rose. My skin apparently likes to amp up rose on first application, but this is okay because it seems to blend nicely with my own chemistry. drydown: after the rose calms down and settles in I get a bit more of that green juniper scent, and it's like I'm walking in gardens on a hill in Italy, twisted foreign trees and gorgeous villas on the horizon, the sky a pale, exhausted blue from the heat. verdict: such love. I will get more of this for sure. post-conceived notion: I'm starting to wonder if it will be possible for me to find a rose I DON'T like. Prospects seem grim.

pre-conceived notion: This one was a freebie from the Lab, and to be honest I doubt I would have sought out an imp on my own. That is one seriously offputting description of a fragrance, but maybe I just don't have the right kind of temperament for vaudville and carnival scenes. Also, I've always viewed apricot as the lesser cousin of peaches... smaller and less tasty. Add in brandy and that makes it sound more interesting however. in the imp: Okay, this is pretty nice. It's sweet and friendly. This is not destroying me like Tamora did (oh god, Tamora...), but the brandy is noticable and adds a smooth richness that I quite like. wet: Hmm. On my skin it turns almost instantly into cardboard. I still get the apricot but it's in a cage, boxed away from me by something dry and dusty and seriously unattractive. drydown: no improvement. It's not like it's rotten or dead. It just has the scent of something that never was alive. Like a stone in the middle of a forest, untouched by rain or dirt or sunlight. Just a plain grey stone. verdict: Not for me. post-conceived notion: I'm a prejudiced little fuck sometimes, aren't I? But I really gave this one a shot, and it just doesn't play nice on my skin. In the bottle it's pretty, however, so I'll feel no shame in passing this along to one of you all.

preconceived notion: Sounds kind of busy, with those flowers and spices and the vanilla. I really hope it is not too much of a good thing. in the imp: This scent almost shocked me with its pristine sweetness. I get a creamy peach out of this, like a peach sorbet in a glass drizzled with peach nectar. This scent has to be DANGEROUS around bees: I have the feeling that it would draw them in from miles around. And I wouldn't blame them: I find this gorgeous beyond measure, girly in a totally opposite way to all the sexy male scents BPAL has. Decidely sapphic. wet: OMG THIS IS SO PRETTY. You know, usually I'm wincing on the vanilla but here it adds exactly the right note. Instead of getting that "cheap vanilla perfume" scent I'm finding it to be kissable and lush. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen was a cheerleader at an Albion College football game I went to recently, a tall girl with warm-black hair in long curly pigtails tied with yellow ribbons, dark eyes, and pink flushed cheeks. In the purple-and-gold cheerleader's outfit, she looked like a liveried fairy goddess rather than a human being. She was intensely fetching in the careless, perfect way of a distant beauty conforming to an iconic role. And this scent seems like something a girl like here would wear. drydown: more of the same, girlcrush to the max. I want to be the girl would would suit this fragrance, but I also want to be WITH the girl who would suit this fragrance. I feel kissable and cuddlesome and small with this on, very feminine and pink. This would be the perfect fragrance for a summer evening's walk along the beach. verdict: this might seriously become my favourite BPAL yet. post-conceived notion: The busy nature of this fragrance actually recommends it; the blend is perfect so the overall impression is sophisticated and subtle. If I had to give this fragrance a name, I'd call it Susan (after the archer-queen of C.S. Lewis' Narnia series).

preconceived notion: Mandarin oranges are summer and blue skies, whereas figs are starry, snowy winter nights. I like the idea of blending related opposites together, and my feeling is that I would use this potion as a spell to woo a contrary lover. Or maybe, to wed the difficult-to-marry contradictions within myself into a harmonious whole. in the imp: The winning note is the orange, which is bright and juicy. wet: the blended impression is like carnation for me, which in turn reminds me of Maiden. Right now I'm listening to Loreena McKennitt ("let all that are to mirth inclined"), and at the end of the song there is the ringing of church bells, slow and sad. This fragrance is like a chant and reminds me of mass, in much the same way that Maiden does... but here the spicy incense is burst through with golden rays of sunlight through brilliant stained glass windows. Gloria in excelcius deo. drydown: Instead of making me feel carnal, this scent makes me feel serene. Confident. Like a pale-haired madonna wearing blue and standing on top of the world. The fig is here and comes out more to balance the scent. It's a soft bitable fruit, with that smooshy grainy rich texture that makes figs so singular to eat (and so good for the bowels), but it is also elevated, the mandarin accentuating a kind of Babylonian, Tigris and Euphrates spice. verdict: Between this and Maiden, it's a very tough call. I could use either and definitely love them both. post-conceived notion: Above all, this seems like a very thoughtful blend. If it were possible to cast a smell with fragrance, I could believe that this scent has the power for it.

preconceived notion: This is the first of the many, many imps that I will be reviewing of the set that <lj user="meimi"> sent me, all of which were generously offered simply because I have not smelled them before. This is one of the most notoriously named BPAL oils (competing only with "nuclear winter"), seemingly designed for the cutting-edge young emo, but as far as I know it's got a pretty devoted following all around because of the tea and lemon notes. in the imp: This smells like lemon cookies. No way is it strong enough to embalm flesh; it might be good for embalming fur coats, however. In fact, this is nature's Febreeze, seeming to promise cover for all levels of mustiness and sour but unable to cut the edges off anything more foul. wet: lemon-spritzed tea, lightly spicy but primarily cool and refreshing. drydown: This is a delicate, simple fragrance that would be perfect for early morning, dewy and cobwebbed with a Celtic sweetness. It sort of reminds me of the sunrise service at Easter mass, when all the young girls are dressed in lovely pastels and everyone else are wearing filmy springtime clothes that are really too scant for the cold spring morning. verdict: gorgeous. Would use it all, and consider getting more. I think this would be nice on job interviews, actually. post-conceived notion: THANK YOU MEIMI I LOVE YOU

preconceived notion: there is a long and sticky personal association I have with the city of Madrid, even though I've never been there. I used to love a boy who was extremely attached to Real Madrid, the football (read: soccer) team of that fair city. He was in love with Spain in general, and every few months would fly to Madrid for a weekend on his own, usually catching a game. He invited me to come with him one time but for various reasons, this never happened... in any case, I attach a high level of romance to this city. My expectations are high. in the imp: I have an instant impression of butterscotch and cherries, neither of which are listed ingredients. This is a strongly delicious scent, like a golden fruity cordial. wet: mmmm.... churchy incense and candy. I used this quite a lot in the fall and then found it to be fairly strong and even a bit off putting at first, but now with the cold of winter it comes off perfectly right, warm and ancient and archly sexual. drydown: I feel like a pretty young dark-haired Spanish girl getting dressed up in the evening, wearing a white off-the-shoulder dress and putting flowers in my hair. verdict: YES OH YES. More please! post-conceived notion: I am apparently a slave to my own nostalgia.

preconceived notion: kittens! You know, I don't get off on all this "cats as goddesses" stuff. But I love cats and kittens and am a giant advocate of kitty cuddling. I should mention that my cats do not care for BPAL. The oils are pretty strong, so if I hold one of the wands up before them they sniff at it with tightly closed eyes and an expression of disdain. in the imp: sweet and warm, this scent is so well-blended that I cannot pick out any of the individual notes (is that a cop out? I think that is a cop out). I find this to be a little like a rich, plummy cake, or maybe a tiramisu... it's rich and has that flavour of liquor with the alcohol baked off. wet: aww, this is spicy and friendly and really pretty. drydown: Okay, now I get the impression of roasted chestnuts and almonds scattered over a holiday torte (the kind that has a cream cheese icing and gooey chocolate inside and which is layered with cherries). It's very friendly and gorgeously comfortable, and wears like a snug. verdict: highly recommended. I want more of this, I think. post-conceived notion: after this dries, my cat T.K. made a serious attempt to clean it off of my arm. So apparently it is not so off putting that she wouldn't lick it. (I won't let her and had to wash it off so she couldn't sneak up on me while sleeping and give me a covert kitty-bath).

preconceived notion: Of the four elements, water is not exactly the one I most resonate with. Mostly I'm an Air kind of girl, in keeping (perhaps) with my Libra-ness. But lately I've been doing a fair amount of swimming and there is just something perfect about floating in temperature controlled water. So I am prepared to examine my soggy side. in the imp: peppermint! This is so much like those little round red-and-white striped peppermint candies that a certain sort of grandma keeps in a bowl in the living room year-round. Mint doesn’t really make me thing of wetness, but it does remind me of freshness… fresh breath in particular. wet: this is a sweet, pungent mint for me. Candy cane. drydown: the juniper peeks out after a while and I get the impression of a strong wind over high cliffs by a tempestuous sea. This scent does not smell like nature, but somehow it reminds me of being outside on a blustery day anyway. Wearing it I feel clean and harsh and imperious, a little like a Snow Queen. verdict: not me, but this sure is a lovely scent. post-conceived notion: As an aquatic scent, this is fairly appealing. But water is just not my bag… instead of getting a floating, peaceful feeling, this scent seems to delight in tossing me around.

preconceived notion: I'm not even sure what ozone smells like. Maybe it's one of those "you'll know it when you smell it" kind of things? I do like rain but usually the first gentle rain before a storm smells like pavement. My expectations are medium. in the imp: mmm. Okay, I know this alright. It's AEROSOL. I should have known. wet: On my skin, it smells like... water. Like nothing. Like a bland colorless, tasteless liquid. But then, after about thirty seconds, a citrusy smell creeps in. It's very subtle. And actually, very refreshing and cheering. This smells like something that you could spritz on your face and body to refresh your skin while tanning on the deck of a cruise ship under the hot Caribbean sun. drydown: That clean and fresh impression continues. Sort of reminds me of laundry that is drying outside on a line. It's pretty and seductively faint, and disappears into a mist of fresh salt breeze and the beach. And... oddly... there is the rarest hint of honey-caramel. verdict: I cannot tell if this is exceedingly gorgeous or not distinctive at all. It seems like this would be safe to wear anywhere... I'm not afraid of overpowering anyone... but I don't know yet how I feel about it. post-conceived notion: this scent has left me conflicted and perplexed, and I'm going to have to revisit it at least once more before making a final decision.