OctoberGwen

White sandalwood, bergamot, white musk, and ambergris. Upon initial application, I get something that is reminiscent of lemon (which I happen to love): I think it's the combination of bergamot and ambergris. It's really quite lovely. As the scent settles into my skin, a bit of the dry, crumbly sandalwood comes out. I prefer dry scents to watery ones, but I don't want the white sandalwood to take over. I am hoping it gets a little muskier with time; I can't really smell the white musk yet. I think if the musk can balance out the sandalwood, this will be really beautiful. Later: definitely muskier; the waft on this is getting really nice. The lemony quality is gone. I'm getting a beautiful musky ambergris with a bit of sandalwood. This is a soft, pale scent but I wouldn't classify it as 'white'. It is really unique. Contemplating a bottle. ETA: Even later, I keep catching whiffs of this and it is just gorgeous. The ambergris really shines in the far drydown. I am definitely going to need a bottle of this for days when I want something soft and pretty - with staying power. Ambergris alone tends to vanish fairly quickly on me; I can still smell Elegy No. 1 S. 196 on my wrists the next morning. LOVE THIS BLEND.

Strands of ectoplasm floating through the shadowed air: black plum, inky vetiver, cashmere patchouli, dark oudh, and spectral musk. Oh, this is glorious. I have to admit that it was the "cashmere patchouli" that put this one at the top of my short list, but I am also a big fan of vetiver, musk, and oude. This scent is daaaaark and smooth, very well blended - but you really need to appreciate patchouli to love Shadow. The thing is, though, you have never smelled a patch like this: it's so smooth, and soft to the touch (if you will) and...luxurious. Mmmmmmm. I don't always love plum, but the black variety seems to agree with me; I think it's lifting the scent a bit without making it particularly fruity. I would put A Shadow In the Elevator in the same family as Panther Moon, Raven Moon, and The Final Darkness. Gorgeous. And not for the faint of heart.

STARTLED TOAD Golden amber and coconut with frankincense, frothy vanilla, carnation, sweet aged patchouli, and lemongrass. I looooooooove this. Startled Toad is like a who's who of notes I adore: coconut, lemongrass, amber, patchouli...I get all of those (and they blend together beautifully), along with just a touch of frankincense's bite and maybe a hint of vanilla. The carnation is just adding some spicy sweetness. This is really lovely, not too sweet, and smells like classic Shunga to me. I am so glad I bought a bottle.

Saffron-infused bourbon vanilla, blackened honey, Kashmir wood, Atlas cedar, ambrette seed, hay, and Egyptian jasmine absolute. Good Lord. This is practically a 'who's who' of notes that don't work on me: honey, bourbon vanilla, hay, and some jasmines. But wow: Hal is lovely. It's on the sweeter side, but it manages to stay out of nauseous territory for me. It is syrupy, and I get a lot of jasmine and vanilla honey with an undertone of hay and a very slight woodiness. It smells golden, deep and warm. I think I will really enjoy this in the Winter.

Red rose petals dusted with a trove of ancient spices. I always love the spicey rose blends, and this one is no exception. Here the rose and spices blend into something sophisticated and lovely; in fact, this reminds me of something that I can't quite put my finger on. It has a very classic feel to it, and would be appropriate for the office as well as a night out on the town.

Lemon peel and white incense. Sometimes the simpler blends can be really stunning, and I've been hoping for a lemon-based one because citrus notes always improve my mood. This is very, very pretty; especially when first applied. The lemon peel lifts and brightens while the incense note gives it depth - I'm not sure how Beth achieved the "white" quality with this incense but that is most definitely what it is. And it's not "lemon Pledge" at all, nor is it juicy, fleshy lemon; it's a bright hint of lemon zest. There is a point about midway through the drydown when it threatens to go funky on my skin, but that hint of funk quickly dissipates and it's back to being light and pretty. The far drydown is a slightly spicy lemon peel. Really nice. A very early-Springtime type of fragrance.

LIPS FULL OF LUST AND LAUGHTER O lips full of lust and of laughter, Curled snakes that are fed from my breast, Bite hard, lest remembrance come after And press with new lips where you pressed. Red musk, wildflower honey, elemi, tangerine, and mint. I ordered a bottle of this unsniffed, based on the red musk/ honey/ elemi combo which works so well for me in Third Charm. I wish I could afford the entire Our Lady of Pain update. I am not really picking out all the individual notes but I'm imagining that the underlying juiciness is from the tangerine and the lift, the subtle brightness is from the mint - there is nothing fruity or minty per se here, though. It's sweet and musky and just lovely. The red musk is not the usual RED MUSK, because it is blending so lovingly with the honey. I adore this one and I think it represents this part of the poem perfectly. It is...quite exquisite. I have a feeling that every scent in this update is going to be stellar. True to form, his one has aged absolutely magnificently. It's sweet and musky and bright and beautiful and I adore it.

I adore this! A perfect blend of Dorian and Antique Lace, without the too-sweet quality each scent has on me individually. I get zero pink pepper and zero lavender - or the latter blends so well with the vanilla and tea that it's indistinct, which is fine by me. Feminine and pretty, with fairly decent wear and a nice throw. I'll reach for this one a lot.

Attributed to Luis Paret y Alcaza Black lily and black pepper with narcissus, white musk, and white sandalwood. Lawd, lawd, this is pretty. Very much a classic perfume vibe with the high toned florals, the dry white sandalwood, and my beloved white musk - but with an unexpected kick from the black pepper. In the middle stage I get something that almost has an astringent quality, but then it smooths out again and settles into a slightly musky, slightly spicy floral. If you like lily and/or narcissus, you should try this.

Sweet red patchouli and hay absolute with a hint of orange peel, cocoa, and amber. Oh, I'm SO glad I got this! I'm a patchouli fan, but surely the "sweet red" variety is palatable to all - it's delicious, and the hay note seems to be taking the chewy edge off of it even more (I think it's the hay, anyway.) I definitely get orange peel, which is gorgeous with the patch, and just a hint of amber. I expect this note will deepen and become more prominent with time. Overall a sweetish, really lovely scent with just a bit of bite. LOVE. A million thanks to my wonderful D*Con fairy!

Mmmm, oudh is generally lovely on my skin and it is really gorgeous with amber! This is deep and dark and has an expensive vibe to it. Sometimes the pared-down blends are surprisingly rich. I will reach for this one often, I think.

MMMMMmmmmmmm. I love this, but bear in mind I'm a huge fan of vetiver and patch, and there aren't many musks I don't love. The patchouli is very smooth and the vetiver is wrapped around it like a shroud. The musk is in the black family, probably, but it's almost like smoke here. There is a slightly dry quality, which I like, and not even a hint of sweetness - also good, in my book. A strong, assertive scent.

There is a leafy wood fringed by Oceanus’ farthest marge beyond the Indes and the East where Dawn’s panting coursers first seek entrance; it hears the lash close by, what time the watery threshold echoes to the dewy car; and hence comes forth the rosy morn while night, illumined by those far-shining wheels of fire, casts off her sable cloak and broods less darkly. This is the kingdom of the blessèd bird of the sun where it dwells in solitude defended b the inhospitable nature of the land and immune from the ills that befall other living creatures; nor does it suffer infection from the world of men. Equal to the gods is that bird whose life rivals the stars and whose renascent limbs weary the passing centuries. It needs no food to satisfy hunger nor any drink to quench thirst; the sun’s clear beam is its food, the sea’s rare spray its drink–exhalations such as these form its simple nourishment. A mysterious fire flashes from its eyes, and a flaming aureole enriches its head. Its crest shines with the sun’s own light and shatters the darkness with its calm brilliance. Its legs are of Tyrian purple; swifter than those of the Zephyrs are its wings of flower-like blue dappled with rich gold. Never was this bird conceived nor springs it from any mortal seed, itself is alike its own father and son, and with none to recreate it, it renews its outworn limbs with a rejuvenation of death, and at each decease wins a fresh lease of life. For when a thousand summers have passed far away, a thousand winters gone by, a thousand springs in their course given to the husbandmen that shade of which autumn robbed them, then at last, fordone by the number of its years, it falls a victim to the burden of age; as a tall pine on the summit of Caucasus, wearied with storms, heels over with its weight and threatens at last to crash in ruin; one portion falls by reason of the unceasing winds, another breaks away rotted by the rain, another consumed by the decay of years. Now the Phoenix’s bright eye grows dim and the pupil becomes palsied by the frost of years, like the moon when she is shrouded in clouds and her horn beings to vanish in the mist. Now his wings, wont to cleave the clouds of heaven, can scarce raise them from the earth. Then, realizing that his span of life is at an end and in preparation for a renewal of his splendour, he gathers dry herbs from the sun-warmed hills, and making an interwoven heap of the branches of the precious tree of Saba he builds that pyre which shall be at once his tomb and his cradle. On this he takes his seat and as he grows weaker greets the Sun with his sweet voice; offering up prayers and supplications he begs that those fires will give him renewal of strength. Phoebus, on seeing him afar, checks his reins and staying his course consoles his loving child with these words: ‘Thou who art about to leave thy years behind upon yon pyre, who, by this pretence of death, art destined to rediscover life; thou whose decease means but the renewal of existence and who by self-destruction regainest thy lost youth, receive back thy life, quit the body that must die, and by a change of form come forth more beauteous than ever.’ So speaks he, and shaking his head casts one of his golden hairs and smites willing Phoenix with its life-giving effulgence. Now, to ensure his rebirth, he suffers himself to be burned and in his eagerness to be born again meets death with joy. Stricken with the heavenly flame the fragrant pile catches fire and burns the aged body. The moon in amaze checks her milk-white heifers and heaven halts his revolving spheres, while the pyre conceives the new life; Nature takes care that the deathless bird perish not, and calls upon the sun, mindful of his promise, to restore its immortal glory to the world. Straightway the life spirit surges through his scattered limbs; the renovated blood floods his veins. The ashes show signs of life; they begin to move though there is none to move them, and feathers clothe the mass of cinders. He who was but now the sire comes forth from the pyre the son and successor; between life and life lay but that brief space wherein the pyre burned. His first delight is to consecrate his father’s spirit by the banks of the Nile and to carry to the land of Aegyptus the burned mass from which he was born. With all speed he wings his way to that foreign strand, carrying the remains in a covering of grass. Birds innumerable accompany him, and whole flocks thereof throng in airy flight. Their mighty host shuts out the sky where’er it passes. But from among so vast an assemblage none dares outstrip the leader; all follow respectfully in the balmy wake of their king. Neither the fierce hawk nor the eagle, Jove’s own armour-bearer, fall to fighting; in honour of their common master a truce is observed by all. Thus the Parthian monarch leads his barbarous hosts by yellow Tigris’ banks, all glorious with jewels and rich ornament and decks his tiara with royal garlands; his horse’s bridle is of gold, Assyrian embroidery embellishes his scarlet robes, and proud with sovereignty he lords it o’er his numberless slaves. There is in Aegyptus a well-known city celebrated for its pious sacrifices and dedicated to the worship of Ra. Its temples rest on a hundred columns hewn from the quarries of Thebes. Here, as the story tells, the Phoenix is wont to store his father’s ashes and, adoring the image of the god, his master, to entrust his precious burden to the flames. He places on the altar that from which he is sprung and that which remains of himself. Bright shines the wondrous threshold; the fragrant shrine is filled with the holy smoke of the altar and the odour of Indian incense, penetrating even as far as the Pelusiac marshes, fills the nostrils of men, flooding them with its kindly influence and with a scent sweeter than that of nectar perfumes the seven mouths of the dark Nile. Happy bird, heir to thine own self! Death which proves our undoing restores thy strength. Thine ashes give thee life and though thou perish not thine old age dies. Thou hast beheld all that has been, hast witnessed the passing of the ages. Thou knowest when it was that the waves of the sea rose and o’erflowed the rocks, what year it was that Phaëthon’s error devoted to the flames. Yet did no destruction overwhelm thee; sole survivor thou livest to see the earth subdued; against thee the Fates gather not up their threads, powerless to do thee harm. Sole survivor thou livest to see the earth subdued; against thee the Fates gather not up their threads, powerless to do thee harm: red patchouli, sweet frankincense, and the figs and pomegranates of the seven mouths of the dark Nile. This will be gorgeous on someone else, but for me it is a miss. I wanted more delicious red patchouli, which I love, and less fig, which I kind of hate. Alas, this is so very FIG! on my skin - which means it is far, far, far too sweet for me. I get a hint of frankincense and a bit of pomegranate, perhaps a whisper of patchouli, and of course FIG! Fig lovers should get this immediately, and if you are afraid of patch or frank just hope your skin is like mine and then you'll just have FIG!

King mandarin, passionfruit, Moroccan rose absolute, labdanum, and amber musk. I bought a bottle of this unsniffed because I adore King Mandarin, and generally fruit + musk equals win on me. I am not disappointed! I would put this in the same family as my beloved Sumai No Sechie. It's fruity, but the musk gives it a beautiful, complex anchor on which to do its thing. I'm not getting rose per se, but I think it's also serving to deepen the fruit notes. The mandarin and passion fruit are really lovely together, and I'm not getting any labdanum now (I did smell a bitter sharpness when this first came out of the mailbox, but it has smoothed out wonderfully.) Sometimes labdanum does unpleasant things on my skin. This is a very pretty, close-to-the-skin scent that I think would be perfect for everyday wear, especially in warmer weather. While the King Mandarin is very dominant when wet (which is fine by me), the dry down is far more blended and subtle, slightly musky with just a faint sweetness. Really lovely.

Plus a touch of hay absolute and dried rosebud. This is so pretty. It makes my hair smell like sunlight. It's everything you think it will be, reading the description: sun warmed peaches and delicate flowers, with a touch of clean, sweet-smelling hay. Delicious, sweet, and perfect.

Hidden beneath a veil of thick, sweet black cherry lies a lecherously lovely lust blend that includes aged black patchouli, bourbon vanilla absolute, and cubeb berry. This lust blend can be employed both as a fragrance and within a ritual environment to attract sexual partners, vitalize your libido, and create an aura of playful wantonness. In the context of religious ritual, this oil can be used when venerating Aphrodite or Ishtar, or when appeasing Tlazolmiquiztli. This blend smells great, very cherry heavy, and worked nicely in terms of evoking the "playful wantonness" mentioned in the description. Love Oil 7 is still my go-to lust blend, but this one is a close second.

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved. The night flight from Tangier: drops of spilled blood color the antiseptic, bland, plastic paleness of the fuselage, with violet leaf for longing, rosemary for reminiscences, and black opoponax for apprehension. I...don't even know where to begin with this one. It smells exactly, exactly the way it's supposed to, given the description. Some will probably find it too medicinal, but rosemary is one of my plant totems and I absolutely love the smell of it. I didn't think the 'bland plastic' note would be at all pleasant, but to me it's reading as 'clean' here. I definitely get the violet leaf and a whisper of the opoponax. Really, though, this scent is all about the sum of its parts. In a word: wow.

An oil of joyful lust and whirlwind passion: Damask rose, red vegetal musk, bourbon vanilla absolute, bitter almond, and organic peppermint. This oil thrums with desire and, simply put – this was made for fucking. This oil was assembled and charged under a dual Venus-Mars ritual, and was continuously re-consecrated twice weekly, during the hours of Venus and Mars, over the course of seven lunations. This is an anointing oil -- it can be used in a ritual capacity to consecrate talismans and amulets, candles, and figures. It can be used in the bedroom to arouse feelings of lust, and also be used as a personal fragrance for the same purpose. Love Oil 7 is my Go To TAL for enhanced sexytimes. It has never failed to put me in the mood and in fact has a sort of zero-to-sixty effect on me. It is amazing. This is secondary, of course, but I have to say that it also smells fantastic. My husband loves it, too.

HUMPBACK WHALE Crayon on copier paper, 2012 Humpback whales sing so they're my favorite. Blue peppermint, sea buckthorn berry, white myrrh, ambergris accord, and tobacco leaf. Humpback Whale I remember seeing the artwork that inspired this scent when Beth originally posted it on Facebook, so this was the first of the Tremulous Songs that I knew I needed a bottle of. I love humpback whales, and I loved Lilith's picture, and I really didn't care what the oil smelled like. Happily, it is so beautiful! I definitely smell the peppermint (I am a mint fan, btw), and it really does smell blue instead of sharp and green. This note is softened and made rounder by the ambergris and probably the white myrhh; I'm not getting the usual distinctly "myrhh" note. This is absolutely gorgeous, soft and pale blue and misty smelling, with no problematic aquatic notes. It is sweet but not nauseatingly so. I don't get the tobacco leaf specifically, but hopefully it will peek out with age. I love this blend. ETA: During far drydown this aquires a really clean vibe while still remaining soft. Some people are probably going to find it soapy, but I absolutely love it. Win, win, win.

I wanted to go with a less-literal name for this scent, but Lilith vetoed me! My little monster is a tremendous help around the garden. She helps me water, plant, and deadhead the flowers, but by far… harvesting is her favorite chore. Sun-warmed, slightly squishy blueberries plus overgrown grass, overgrown honeysuckle, overgrown lavender, overgrown lemon verbena, and a smattering of un-pulled weeds. Mmmmm. I get fresh, realistic blueberry initially and then lots of lemon verbena, which I love. This is fresh and beautiful, no lavender that I could detect - or perhaps just a whisper. It smells of sunshine and happiness and you need some. I almost got a bottle at NYCC and I may still order one...and I don't usually like berry scents at all.

John William Waterhouse Vanilla-infused frankincense and clary sage with 7-year aged patchouli, jasmine sambac, honey myrtle, and oudh. I love Waterhouse's art, and The Magic Circle has long been a favorite, so I knew I needed this one! I have to say, vanilla-infused frankincense is delicious. The vanilla really softens the sharp edge that frankincense can sometimes have on my skin, yet it still retains that solemn incensey vibe that I love. The clary sage is very distinctive, as always, but is prevented from being too masculine for me by the sweetness of the jasmine sambac. I don't get a lot of my beloved aged patchouli, it seems to be laying low with the honey myrtle and oude to create a nice base. It may become more prominent with age, too. This is gorgeous. I think I need all the Pickman Hecate blends. Oy!

Haitian vetiver, tea leaf, Himalayan cedar, and apricot rind. I think this is a blend that needs some age to smooth it out and bring out the subtler tea leaf and apricot rind, because all I got was VETIVER (which I love) and cedar. Oddly, I was also getting a coffee vibe, and I have no idea where that was coming from.

Pumpkin artwork by Ruby Velez! Pumpkins, pumpkin vines, and wild mushrooms with white sage, cade, sweetgrass, and vanilla-infused rosewood. And now for something completely different! The pumpkin is very present - and it's not buttery at all - but I got a lot of sage and a lovely, earthy (mushroom?) grassy smell. A true pumpkin patch scent, as in you are sitting in the field after the harvest and there a few pumpkins left behind and they are slowly returning to the earth. They aren't rotting, not yet, but everything smells loamy and fecund and earthy. I believe this is the first pumpkin I've tried where there are no spices to be found.

A tragedy in one act: pale sandalwood threaded with a vanilla filigree, bitter green cognac, white tobacco, and Roman chamomile, stained by a splash of black tea and the deceptively sweet juice of belladonna berries. Beautiful Death is part of the Lace family of scents, which I would have recognized immediately upon smelling even if Beth hadn't said so. I love the Laces, so of course I needed this. It's very well blended, so I don't get a lot of vanilla though I can tell it's there. I actually love it when vanilla acts as more of a supporting player rather than taking over, as it can sometimes be too sweet for me.There is a certain sweetness here, but it's only very slightly fruity. Also present are the very distinct Lace-y elements of cognac and tea, but otherwise everything just blends into a lovely, elegant, very Victorian scent. No distinct sandalwood or Roman chamomile or (surprisingly) tobacco to my nose, though the latter is almost certainly lending itself to the 'Lace' aspect of this scent. I'll quote here what Beth said about it on FB: "I made the scent for myself, because I wanted something corpse'y and bittersweet for spring. It's in the Lace family." And, "...the belladonna berry accord has a blackcurrant feel to it, but a little sweeter. I think you'll like it." I definitely do, Beth. xoxo

Complex, cerebral, elegant, and neat...this does my firstborn Virgo child proud. Very well blended, the lemon verbena lifts what is otherwise a beautifully earthy - yet somehow bright - scent. I don't get patchouli per se but I know that is what's grounding things here, keeping it from getting too high pitched. I think this would smell equally good on a man, but it's not leaning masculine. I'd wear this to a night out at the theater or a gallery opening; something sophisticated and dressy. Virgo is gorgeous, and I don't have any other BPALs like it.