Naamah_Darling

Oh! I like this in the bottle! The sweet pea and sage combine for a liquid, rainy scent that is at once sweet and clean. On, the tonka and the musk come out – this is a pale musk, but it's quite strong. The scent is strikingly sexy. The pea and musk and tonka make it warm and sensual, the sage gives it some refinement and keeps it from being too sweet or delicate. I really like this. It's rather traditional, but it's lovely just the same. The throw is magnificent. This is the kind of smell people will follow you around to get more of. I adore it. It wears down to a soft, feminine scent that is somehow meadowy. Very nice.

Well, in the bottle this smells very perfumey, and quite familiar. It's a light, damp, green floral that is neither too green nor too flowery, and smells clean and refreshing. A sort of shadowed, dusty, green and violet smell. I'm not familiar with the individual notes, as florals really don't do much for me, but this blend is nice. I'm glad I like it, since the Morrigan was my patroness at one time, but I would have expected a scent with more blade, a bit more danger. This is very womanly and without any edge or bite to it at all. It's soft and wet and quite yielding. Appropriate enough, I suppose, as the intent was clearly to evoke the queenly aspect of this goddess. On, the flowers come out, like a damp bouquet of wildflowers and the attendant greenery. There is a thick, dark purple, fleshy note in there that I am assuming is the orchid. It's dominant, sweet, and fluid. The lighter florals play around it, there's a bit of grass or moss, too, and what smells like rose. It's womanly and rich, but also new and green, a fertile, growing smell. A dark evening scent, like rain sweeping over the hills. This doesn't go nasty, either. It becomes a grey, heathery, faded scent, but the flowers remain pretty fresh throughout, and it has good wear. The throw is not formidable, it's subtle, bringing to mind the adage that a good perfume should not announce itself, but should be discovered. A respectable, unique perfume with enough of a traditional cant to appeal to mainstream perfume lovers and enough subtlety to appeal to fans of the unique. Worth a try for someone seeking a damp, rich floral that is sweet but not cloying, refined but sexy.

I fail to see how something this sweet in the bottle could possibly be meant to embody the concept of "Maenad." This is berry-sweet and floral, with a hint of pepper. And I already know that it's going to smell really bad on me. I'm betting . . . dirty makeup sponges and bubble gum. And I'm right. Dirty makeup sponges and bubble gum. It goes on as a dark, raspy floral with a sweet note that heads the throw. This smells like nothing so much as some sort of bath product – bubble gum flavored bubble bath, maybe. With just a faint husky undertone of that unwashed old-makeup smell. If this is the smell of maenads, these maenads live in a trailer park and think that glossy, pink polyvinyl is haute couture, and they are carrying the severed head of Elvis. Bwaaack! It settles a bit after about half an hour, and it isn't quite so rancid, but it's still very slick and fake smelling, and very syrupy. I almost like it, but it's just a little too-too. Charitably, I'll say it might be a good scent for those who like very sweet, candylike, artificial scents ramped up with florals. A better bet would still be Bordello. I have never before called a BPAL scent a miss, but this completely shied the mark for me – there is no evocation of the feral deadliness for which the bassarids were justly feared, no hint of wine, no hint of wilderness.

Rosy and fresh in the bottle, with a touch of something bright and clean, like soap. On, it's a soft and deeply feminine rose, and a light one. Oh, up close it's all soap, but the throw, now, is simply divine. It's rose like no rose I've smelled – clean, wet, and barely there, the scent of dewy, pale skin fresh from the shower. A drift of something faintly herbal or green is in this, bottoming out the sweetness, giving it a tender, crisp quality. I had a brand of incense quite a while ago that smelled like the spice notes in this, which are faint but definitely there, and the drifting whiffs of it I keep getting are truly delightful. From the reviews, I gather this is not one of the more popular scents. It gets blasted for smelling soapy, and it does, but there's a fresh yumminess to it that smells like a girl who has just bathed in rosewater. It's alluring, sexy, and so very clean. It's taking a virgin girl fresh from the shower and licking the rosewater from her armpits. It's nuzzling her throat and feeling the urge to bite. It's sexy in a thoughtless, unthinking way. It's the back of the knee, one heel cocked. It's damp curls sticking to the nape of the neck. It's pale moon fingernails on crinoline and silk. This is a girl all aglow with lamplight, pretending she doesn't know what you're talking about. This is naughty, but still shockable. Oh, yes, yes, yes, this is so, so pretty, and I should hate it because it does smell soapy, but I can't hate it. It keeps giving me that look. I don't need another rose scent, but this one is different enough, light enough, that it deserves a place in my imp collection. Be advised that normally, rose scents and clean scents are not sexy to me, and I fear the smell of soap the way that infidels once feared the rack, but I am still saying this is sexy. Not for people who have that circuit that makes them equate rose smell with grandmothers, and not for people who fear a bit of soapiness (though I myself don't care for soapy smells), but worth trying for someone who wants to indulge their love of the fairest flower while still smelling clean, clean, clean.

This is leather and spicy wood in the bottle, warmly masculine and inviting. When I put it on, it smells a bit like the smoke from green wood, and a bit like sweet incense, and a bit like old leatherbound books. It's quite sharp for a few seconds, but then it settles right down into a warm, comforting leather and wood scent with just a hint of smoke and greenery. This is a mature, dignified scent that is confident enough not to feel the need to shout, and secure enough in its dominance that it doesn't see the point in playing head games. This is the sexiness that comes with experience and true confidence, with none of the brash swagger or threat implied by most leather scents. In the same general class as Old Scratch and Hellfire, though it lacks the floral notes and powdery tinge of the former and the aggressive smokiness and subtle menace of the latter. This is a very friendly scent, inviting. It smells a lot like my room used to smell when I'd finished some ritual or other; a mixture of the wood boxes I kept my supplies in, the lingering incense, the smoke of burnt paper offerings, and the leather wrappings of my ritual tools. Traditional in its approach but very smooth and low-key, this blend wears close in, and doesn't last overlong. It's at once earthy and cerebral. Very, very nice.

I think this is perhaps the most blatantly masculine and traditional cologne (I cannot call it a perfume) I have smelled from the Lab yet! The bergamot and lemon are citric and fresh, and everything else takes a back seat to them in the bottle. On, it warms up to the smell of . . . oh, god. The anise is a clean herbal wash in the middle of this scent, combined with the clean spiky floral of the lavender. With the citrus, this gives Casanova a very clean, traditional, masculine core while it is wet. Here, the leather is in the background, only barely detectable as an influence – the leather of fine upholstery. It's quite high-pitched and traditional, which is almost overpowering on me, but I do love the smell. This scent is well-dressed and clean, but as it wears you can feel its slightly rough edges, like five o'clock shadow above a meticulously starched and pressed collar. Sort of James Bond, in a way. This guy is tough, refined, and takes no sh!t off anyone. He's sexy as hell, but in an offhand way that is utterly irresistible. I can't describe this one because once it settles down even my fairly sharp nose cannot pick out individual notes. It just smells like cologne. Really good cologne. And it smells absolutely nothing like I expected. The leather never comes out, though I can detect its subtle, sexy warmth. Even the patchouli and tonka, usually readily identifiable, are only there to bottom out and bolster the topnotes. Sargon says he keeps coming in the room and looking for the man who was just in here. I think I'll be trying it on him. Overall, it's a very strong, traditional, sexy men's fragrance with a lot of staying power and a great deal of intense throw. Worth a try for those seeking a strongly masculine scent, or wanting to start out a friend or loved one on a very traditional blend.

This is herbal, green, and very traditional, a light men's scent with just a touch of floral in the bottle. On, the mint, rosemary, and musk come out, and there is a sweet, almost fruity afternote to this, something just barely detected, a high, bright softness that makes it absolutely fascinating. It doesn't last on me. All of its promise dies under the smothering stench of expensive baby powder. Given that baby powder is one of the most unpleasant, unsexy smells in the world to me I can hardly be blamed for not enjoying this, and wiping most of it off after about an hour and a half when it showed no signs of shifting again. For someone who doesn't have trouble with florals, I'll recommend this one eagerly. It's a beautiful scent, fascinating and subtle with a touch of class. A clean, light, masculine fragrance with just enough distinction to set it ahead of the pack.

Oh, wow. Wow. This is ravishing in the bottle, and I am terrified that the flowers I smell will turn it foul on my skin. Then again, I've yet to meet the BPAL peach blend I dislike, so. . . . This is a smooth, refined, ultra-female scent in the bottle. Deceptively soft, peach and incense notes merge above a bed of damp florals making for a sweet blend with a great deal of subtlety. I'm half in love already! On, the incense steps up and the peach steps back. There's an aggressive back-and-forth with the florals for a while. The throw is arrogant and refined, incense and a faint ripeness of flowers or fruit peel. It's very much a traditional fruit/floral perfume. The distinction comes with the vetiver, which is so, so subtle, but gives it a faint knife-edge. It plays a little rough, and comes across as ever-so-slightly sharp, but it's simply beautiful. Different notes of this keep wafting out. One moment it's florals, then peaches, then incense. Remarkable! Its extreme drydown is a tart, incensey floral with a hint of grassy rasp from the vetiver. This is a far more complex blend than it appears at first scent. It's very intelligent, and quite poised, and it would be innocent if it were not for that relentless keening vetiver note that is subtle but oh so present. Like a woman whose company is at first refined, pleasant, and genteel, but who proceeds to reveal her cruelty in the most disturbing ways as the acquaintance progresses. I really can't say more than wow. As a perfume, it's very nice. As a concept scent, it is unparalleled. This is the very essence of the Marquise. I am very, very impressed.

Oh! In the bottle it's sweet honey and clove, with a touch of fig. On, the flower note comes out – ylang ylang is a bright golden-white floral that hints of exotic spice. With the patchouli and the clove, this smells very much like an exotic incense. The honey isn't overwhelming, it's just playing a supporting role in the background, gluing everything together. Much less sticky-sweet than I was expecting, and far more adult and womanly. A lush, full-bodied scent that smells like those lippy, sticky kisses always feel, but also a very poised scent. If perfume is advertising, this one says "available, but not slutty." There is a drydown similarity on my skin to those elements of Khajuraho that I love so much, though this is earthier and spicier. It borders on that vile makeup smell I hate for a while, but then the final weardown is one of the most wonderful spice/incense scents ever, so it's sort of a tradeoff. Overall, this is a lovely, sophisticated scent with just a hint of challenge. Wonderful!

Hmm. Gypsy roses, eh? Let's see. Yup, that's a very damp rose with just a touch of something bitter. On, it's surprisingly subtle for a rose scent, and there is indeed a trace of cinnamon that warms it up nicely. This is dark, soft, and feminine, not overpowering, with a much more rounded, natural feel than most rose scents usually have. The cinnamon really gives it a spicy undertone that keeps the floral from becoming sickly and dreadful. It has an earthy note to it not unlike a much lighter version of the graveyard rose in Zombi. I like this very well, perhaps better than the other rose scents I have tried. It is at once fuller and less cloying, a definitely rosy scent but not one that overwhelms. Most of its strength is gone in an hour, though traces of it linger for a very long time. Overall, it's a ripe, womanly perfume with just a trace of the wicked. Rose lovers who also enjoy cinnamon might want to try this marvelously simple yet lovely scent.

Plum and almond cream dominate this in the bottle. It's fruity, sweet, and syrupy, very female and, yes, blindingly sexy. I'm wary of fruity notes because I typically don't enjoy smelling like hand lotion or candles, but on giving this one a chance it's just lovely. It goes on as a super-sweet mix of wine and plums, with a faint hint of tartness that gives it some distinction. The almond recedes quickly to a background creaminess that keeps the plum wine from smelling too fruity, while not reducing its tastiness in the least. Biteable, edible, pinchable, flushed and eager. If your tastes run to sweet, fruity scents, this girl's a goer. It's a powerfully sweet blend, and it has respectable throw, but the scent itself is not so high-pitched that it's painful. The sweet fruitiness of it verges on the obscene, though; it's an almost artificial scent, it's so potent and vigorous. Blatant, a little tawdry, and very forthcoming about its intentions. It's like a glittery pink jelly sex toy sticking out of a Hello Kitty handbag. "Oh, how cute!" you say, before you can stop yourself. Even though you know what it's for. It's fruit-flavored lip gloss on a 15-year-old girl who has a crush on you. It's being in the department store and unexpectedly stumbling across the brand of body wash your first girlfriend used, and getting a stiffy that alarms the sales clerks. It's cheap novelty perfume on the collarbones of the only girl you wanted to dance with all damn night. It's sloppy kisses and below-the-belt groping while Mandy Moore music plays in the background. There is something relentlessly . . . youthful about this scent, which is what makes it nine kinds of wrong. Whether it's the candylike sweetness or its complete guilelessness, this is the essence of the youthful libido: unsubtle, unrestrained, innocent still, but definitely not pure of body. A nice summary of all that is venal and wanton in girls. And make no mistake: this is a very girly scent. I will note that it has enormous potential to go horribly, horribly awry; this could easily become sickly or cloying on the wrong person, and it does seesaw in between appealingly tasty and alarmingly fake. It's also persistent and long-lasting, so apply with caution. If your chemistry plays nicely with strongly fruity/candylike scents, this one most certainly deserves a try. In a word: tarty!

This one has lavender in it. Damn. Lavender is one of those notes that doesn't always have a smell to me – I honestly cannot identify it in many blends. That is, until it dries and I am hit in the face with the screaming smell of baby powder at ninety miles an hour. This unfortunate trait is why I enjoy lavender in soap, sachets, and even chocolate, but not in much else. Because on my skin, it just plain stinks. There are exceptions, and hopefully this will be one of them. Let's see what it's like in the bottle, shall we? Ah. Well. That's it, then. It's like a lavender laser pointer aimed straight up my nose. This is a strong, herbal, heady lavender that is far less sweet than it is robust and bristly. There's a dusting beneath of incense and smoke, very light. Hopefully it'll be enough to save me from the Lavender Monster. This is fascinating on, very herbal and dry with a strong flush of smoke and incense underneath. There's an almost sour, sickly scent to it on my skin, though, like bitter flowers left too long in rancid water. A woody note comes crawling out after a little while. This is definitely a nocturnal scent; it's stealthy, deep, and low, and not at all sweet. It smells like crushed flowers and burning, and is actually fairly menacing in its way. It just smells like there's something . . . wrong. The mental image I have on smelling it is that of some great, hairy black thing creeping through the gloaming on claw-fingered feet, and where it treads the sweet herbs and flowers of the undergrowth wither and die. Wisps of smoldering smoke curl from between its toes. It breathes sweet mist from between great black fangs. It's at once unnerving and pretty cool. Even more unnerving now that I look it up and see that Gaueko, according to one of the only sources I can find, was supposed to take the form of a great black wolfhound that occasionally walked upright. Hmm. Charming. It almost vanishes as it dries. I like the smell, it's deep and strange and unearthly, and just a little nightmarish – so far the only BPAL scent to unsettle me. It does eventually get powdery, but this is not an overpoweringly strong scent so I'm not gagging on the stench from arm's length or anything. I think on someone who could wear lavender, this would be a very interesting scent that would repay investigation. Very subtle and quite different.

For some reason I had made up my mind before I tried this that it probably wasn't going to grab me. Boy was I wrong! This smells not at all like I expected. In the bottle, it's sweet crystallized myrrh, with a strong flush of woody balsam. There's also a nutty almond note and a honey note that are utterly fascinating, and it's this that gives the scent its unusual edge. This is so beautiful in the bottle; it actually reminds me quite a bit of Jacob's Ladder. Both have a resinous warmth to them, though Anubis has a faintly herbal and slightly fruity sweetness that Jacob's Ladder does not have. Warm, this is balsam and incense, dry and golden. It doesn't have that floating radiance that Jacob's Ladder had, and it doesn't smell of amber, but it is still beautiful and warm. It also smells faintly of herbs. I'm reminded very strongly of the incense corner of my local new-age bookstore. It has a very specific smell comprised equally of incense resins and just a whiff of herbs from the herb room in back, and from the smudge sticks kept near the incense. The herbal note is just a trace, a bare hint. The rich, rolling balsam and the elegant, mannered myrrh dominate. The honey scent . . . what is that? It's still there. I don't want to say this is a sweet scent, but it is. It's just not foody-sweet at all. Maybe a trifle lotus-y, but not so much that there's anything floral about it. It's not funereal to me at all, though it is very poised and dignified, and quite . . . ritual. It's more of an aura than a scent, and it's instantly transporting. An open, airy temple where offerings of incense are burned. Quite peaceful and calm, and saturated with wisdom. Oh, god, this is lovely. I can't stop sniffing it. I'm sticking with "transporting." I adore it. I really do. What was I waiting for? Why was I waiting to try this? It's simply divine! Even the husband adores it. The weardown is, hallelujah, just as lovely as the opening, a scent that melts away evenly to a fine, sweet softness. It never gets that murky brown smell so common in patchouli and sandalwood scents. It stays clear, it just grows more and more faint. And it lasts damn near forever. I could still smell it faintly over 36 hours later. It's a resin scent, so it's technically unisex, but this has a sweet edge to it that might make it for adventurous males only; while it’s not girly at all, it's certainly not cologne-y or aftershave-y, either.

I believe the term is "just right." This is like almond honey spice with a flush of amber and florals. Throaty, golden, and heady, Bastet has a freshness under the spicy sweetness that really draws this one out, even in the bottle. The almond is almost overwhelming in the bottle, but it settles down on the skin. On, it gets very smoky, heavy, and warm. There's a superficial resemblance to O here, with amber and some sweetness that isn't precisely a honey note – it doesn't have that rasp. No, this is saffron and cardamom, and a truly beautiful musk that is radiant and bright, like golden glass. The amber is warm, deep orange, and heavy, right down there with the myrrh, like temple incense. The lotus is just a wisp of a scent, a sweet and fruity freshness that keeps this from being too earthy. This is throaty, rich, and silky, one of the most beautiful blends I've tried. It's a perfect mixture of incense, perfume, and spice, without falling firmly into any one category. A distinctive, signature scent with a great deal of allure, a lot of subtlety, and just a little bit of a thrill. One for cuddling up to, for sure. Radiant, absolutely radiant. (I have to note that while my own cats ignored this completely, a friend's cat physically attacked me while I was wearing it, without provocation. Make of that amusing tidbit what you will.)

Finally getting around to trying Umbra. Holy crap, it's ruthless and savage like Geek, only moreso. Despite the fact that it doesn't contain leather, which is usually what I require to give a scent a fully sexy rating, this is a scent that just lunges straight for the naughty bits and keeps on teasing. Actually, no. It doesn't tease. It doesn't care whether I like it or not. It's just having its way with me. Luckily, I appear to be enjoying it. None of this is helped by the fact that I've been perving over dangerous older men for three days now. If getting an open-handed spanking from Jason Isaacs had a soundtrack, this smell would somehow be on it.

Bat-winged, flame-eyed, and possessed of an unearthly, perfect beauty: the Daughters of Lilith, the Succubi, invade the dreams of men and lie with them in rapturous, unholy sexual union. The scent of their skin is bittersweet, dusky and terminally seductive. Mimosa, orange blossom, neroli and bergamot with a drop of sweet clove. Disclaimer: I hate reviewing smells I hate, because I inevitably lay on the snark and sometimes people get offended that I dissed their favorite scent. I'm not saying this is a bad scent. I've yet to smell a "bad" BPAL blend. I will say this did NOT work on me at all. Now, I have to try this because of the close relation of my namesake to Lilith. I have to try it, but I don't have to like it. This smells really rank. On my skin, it's orangey, floral, and obnoxious, its high-pitched whine the scent equivalent of a squealing fan belt. It lingers somewhere between soap and dog shampoo, which is a profoundly unflattering thing to say. That does not make it any less true. If this scent were a person it would be Julia Roberts: smug, self-congratulatory, shrill, obnoxious, not nearly as sexy as everyone thinks, and profoundly irritating. I would want to punch it. Don't think "succubus." Think "harpy." Now, the throw of it is very nice, and smells like fresh, clean laundry with just a faint pick-up of fresh tampon. Up close it's just a sinus-stabbing cacaphony of loud topnotes. As it dies back a floral note of some kind starts trying to make itself known, but the bergamot is slapping it all over the place. Normally I like bergamot, but here it's had too much caffeine and is being a hyperactive ass. Augh! The longer it's on the more floral it gets, and that isn't much of an improvement. It's like a scent meant to arouse males of a different freaking species. I can see this being lovely on someone else. Yes, I am willing to bet that there are some women who can wear this without smelling like a Rigelian space hooker, but I am not one of them. As I am not a ramp nancy, I am going to pass this scent along to someone who does well with clean, citrus scents and who isn't engaged in a long-standing cold war with floral notes. Wearing a perfume whose ingredients don't like you can really make you about as miserable as a wet cat.

Disclaimer: I hated this because of my chemistry, not because it's a bad smell. If you can do patchouli, take my review with a large dose of salt. This syrupy dark amber liquid is all patchouli in the bottle, thick and woody. There's a hint of ginger, and the faintest brush of florals. Wet, it stains like Betadine. The patchouli is very, very earthy, the ginger is in the background, and the orange flowers and sort of mulched under by the rampaging hippie-beast. It smells sweet, but very dirty -- and I don't mean that in the "Tee-hee! Please touch my butt!" way, I mean it smells like I need a bath. The smell isn't sharp, it's very soft and heavy and muffling, and if I sniff it too closely I want to spit because it really clings in the sinuses. It's pretty boozy, and almost smells like vanilla or cola. It's rather similar to Snake Oil, actually, only not at all pleasant. The wet phase of this smells like the extreme weardown of a lot of patchouli perfumes, so for a patchouli lover this would probably be a wonderful choice. This is not so much lascivious and flirtatious on me as it is unctious and liquored-up. This is a smell I would have to kick out of bed in the morning for being a skanky dirtbag, and also a lush. And don't you touch my wallet, you 'ho! Then again, "Vixen" may be appropriate. Foxes in heat reek. So there you go.

Soft, light, and clear, this oil smells of amber and a thin, high perfume. Somewhat traditional in the bottle, and sharp with what I think is the benzoin, a common additive to many perfumes and incenses. This is sweetly incensey with an underlying velour nap of golden heat. This goes on with a warmth like fur and a sweetness like feathers, a perfect synthesis of each ingredient into one unified odor that is redolent of rich, fine incense, and when I say incense, I mean liturgical incense. This has the mellow warmth of true gold, and just a deep-buried hint of something deep and throaty, like honey or musk, something just a little animal. This is warm and cerebral and at the same time wildly sensual. It possesses a vivid warmth, a palpable aura of comfort and kindness, and a touch of sensuality, like a dust-starred ray of light vaulting through the church darkness, falling on silk-burnished skin. I cannot pin this down in words. It seems nurturing, enfolding, warmly accepting. It does not seem passive. It is quiet but very alive. It is so very gentle, but not at all tame. It is innocent, but wise. Clean and pure, but not cold or empty. God damn, this is a beautiful scent, a heartbreaking scent, and I cannot express how radiant, subtle, and poised this is in its middle phase. Truly, truly profound. Dry and wearing down, it's a pleasant dry, powdery amber/incense scent with just the barest hint of sweetness, like a very distant much-diluted floral that is so vague as to be unidentifiable. It remains distinctive at this phase, if not quite as rich as I would like. There is definitely an air of settling or repose here. I'm finding this very, very soothing. For either gender, for any occasion. This is neither too sexual to be worn in public, nor too refined to be kissed away. Medium in throw, moderate in strength, and not at all sharp, yet very long-lasting. It's a crying, crying shame that this was a limited edition, and I deserve a stiff paddling for not buying three or four bottles of it.

Sweet, smoky, and almost nutty in the bottle, a delicious, warm scent. It goes on in a waft of sweet blonde tobacco smoke, with a rummy undertone to it. It is indeed dignified and dark. It's very contrasty and warm; this is thick shadows and golden highlights. The throw is almost foody, like caramel or butter pecan ice cream. A woody note comes out more as the scent progresses and develops, the smell of lacquered furniture wood. Beneath it all there is indeed a very deep-buried crisp and clean scent like bolts of cloth. This is still a warm and comforting scent, like an old coat; something you'd want to put on before going out into a cold winter's night. As it ages, the smoke fades out a little and takes a seat next to the woody notes. It becomes a kind of spicy wood blend, very subdued and masculine, very adult. It's quite persistent, too, and though it doesn't have much throw, it lingers. I really like this one.

This is a musty, fruity, boozy scent, like cherry cordial, in the bottle. The kind of smell you can tell will warm right up. Let's see. Oh, my! Wood, dry white wine, apples and plums, and smoky caramel. Very nice. A dusty scent with that spike of booze familiar to me from Miskatonic University. Nice. It dries to a rather plummy, dark fruity scent, but one that is very dry and alcoholic, quite distinctive. There are wood notes here, and a little bit of vanilla to smooth things out. It's that wood note that keeps this from being a dark and sugary scent, gives it some depth. And it is deep, deep and interesting. It's a close-in scent, not a lot of throw, and what it does have is polite. You have to get right up close to discover it.

This is a clear and fresh citrus and musk blend that has undercurrents of mint in it. The astringency of the tea note is apparent even in the bottle. Quite pleasant and rather sweet. On, it's interesting – the strong orange and mint blend with the musk to make a sort of men's-soapy smell, though it's not unpleasant at all. I quite like this. A very clean scent with not a lot of throw. I don't get gloom or decay from this at all, though there is a faintly overripe note hiding off in the background there, the currant, I assume. As it dries it gets more and more aquatic. I'm not at all certain what I think of that, but the smell is really intriguing. It's extremely gender-neutral; at this point it conjures images of a tearoom overlooking a loch. It ends up aquatic and clean, with very little trace of the mint and mandarin; there's a little floral in there, but it's a cold, pale, wet floral. A rather chilly scent, sort of antiseptic and severe, but since it's not overwhelmingly strong it's pleasant in small doses. It alarms me – it smells unlike what I usually wear, and so I keep catching whiffs of it and thinking there is someone in the room with me. There isn't, but my brain is totally fooled. This scent does have a presence. Overall, very unusual and not for everyone, but Usher is a very nice blend that I would enthusiastically recommend for those who enjoy clean/aquatic scents.

This is high and sharp in the bottle, very citric and clean. On, it becomes a very traditional almost cologne-y perfume, all citrus and aquatics with faint florals. There is a sudden shift in its scent about ten minutes in, when it becomes this flat, clean mineral scent, rather like Black Opal sans the delightful softness in that scent. If there is amber in this, I'll hang looking for it – I can't smell a whiff of it anywhere. It's rather soapy on long wear, which I don't care for. This is a very chic, unyielding, high-pitched perfume with a great deal of distinction and poise, but it's not very animal, not very soft, not very warm, and not very me. It's very interesting, though, as it goes through its two very distinct yet similar phases. House of Mirrrors is the sort of sharp, bright scent that can cause headaches in susceptible people, so wear it with caution.

In the bottle this is a subtle, woody scent that is overwhelmingly tobacco and balsam with a hint of ginger. On, it warms up. The rosewood and balsam are very incense-y, and the tobacco and opium give this the feel of a new-age store. From the description, I expected this to be much sharper than it actually is, but this is a very smooth, almost creamy scent. Quite subtle and refined. The tobacco is definitely the dominant note here. I have to say that my experience with the BPAL tobacco blends has been nothing but positive. I cannot stand the smell of cigarettes, even unlit. They make me feel nauseated and dizzy. But the tobacco the lab uses is a sweet herbal tobacco, dry and unsmoked, so it really bears no resemblance to the smells I came to hate after living with smokers for 18 years. This tobacco is a bit stronger than most of the Lab's tobacco blends, and borders on the overpowering, though you have to get quite close in to smell it.

What? I gotta try it, just 'cause of the werewolf angle. In the bottle, it's grass and cedar; a woody, dry scent that might also harbor a touch of eucalyptus. Woodsy blends tend to give me massive sinus headaches, but so far, this doesn't seem overwhelming. There's an underlying woody incense note to this that might be sandalwood, or might only be cedar with some sweet herb growing under it. On, it's . . . oh, my. A dusty forest path or a closed attic room in a northern mansion. Shafts of sunlight, treetops waving high up in an unheard wind. A covered mirror, a chest of secrets. This reminds me of my trip to the Pacific Northwest, those towering giants, trees like castle towers, and the dusty red coating of crumbled needles like powdered incense over the deeper-buried bed of grey and black volcanic ash. It also, perversely, reminds me a bit of the chaparral, the desert highlands of Utah, with the sage and creosote bushes growing all twisted by the wind and packed down by the sun, and the dry, dusty smell of wood and rock. It's a cooler scent than that; it's the smell of dewfall, when there's just barely enough moisture to carry smell, and all the desert creatures come out. It's the smell of all the wild places I've loved. Anti-lycanthropic though it might supposedly be, this is very calming to the inner wolf spirit. It dries down to a dusty, dry, woody finish, more cedarwood than fresh greenery. Still herbal, with a touch of alkaline bitterness under there. Not poisonous, though it is just a touch dark, this is fresh, herbal, woodsy, and . . . releasing. I like this very much. Recommended for fans of woodsy and herbal scents.

In the bottle this is a sweet incense blend, sandalwood with a hint of nutty almond cream and something fruity underneath, like berry-flavored bubble gum. It's very soft, very light, and very pleasant. There's a floral in here, and it smells vaguely like the floral note in Khajuraho that I like so much. Lotus? Jasmine? I'm not good with florals. I put it on and it opens out. There's a bit of spice in there, ginger or nutmeg or cloves, it's very, very hard to say, but it's spicy and piquant. Saffron, maybe. There's a round yellowness here. I'm pretty sure the nuttiness I noted was myrrh or balsam, I'm not sure which, since I'm new to both those smells. There might be amber as well; usually I only get round, soft scents like this from combinations of amber. The berry scent is mostly gone. There's honey, I think, but not very much, though again it could be myrrh or balsam. Really, this is so smoothly blended and so flawless that I can't pick apart where one note ends and the others begin. It's very calming, fluid, and relaxing, while still being just barely interesting enough to hold my attention. Like the drone of a meditative chant. I generally prefer more overt, out-there scents, but this is a very nice neutral blend that is neither too ethereal nor too sexy. I'm going to try this one a few times before I make my mind up about it, but overall it seems like a very well-balanced, gender-neutral scent that is neither overpoweringly sweet nor overpoweringly earthy. A comforting, cerebral scent, quite light on application and very, very pleasant.