boomtownrat

Tezcatlipoca is spicy, complex, cocoa-patchouli-incense sex! I don't get a massive patchouli hit from it, but it's blended beautifully with the cocoa, incense, and leather. The flowers (marigolds, I would imagine) fade fairly quickly on me. It's not specifically fall-themed, but it reminds me of a deliriously delicious mug of spicy, rich, real hot cocoa. It's more potent than Bliss, which is a powdery cocoa scent that fades far too quickly on me. Huh. I think writing this has made me realize how much I love Tezcatlipoca.

When I got Vice I gave it a small dab, but today I decided to put it on all my usual application spots (front and back of each wrist, behind each ear, on the hollow of my throat) for a long-term skin test. It's an imp that I bought off the forum because I had been eyeing it for a while, unsure of how the orange blossom would play with the other notes on my skin. I don't love the way I tend to amp orange blossom, but I like chocolate and cherry so I was willing to test Vice. For about five minutes the cherry and orange blossom together give off that artificial pink smell you come across in certain public restrooms. Fortunately, the chocolate starts to mellow out the scent as it dries so that it no longer makes me feel as though I'm hanging out in a rest stop on I-85. It has minimal throw once it dries and starts smelling more like one of the chocolates that I got in a box as a gift last Christmas, but occasionally the ghost of the bathroom wafts up to my nose. The blend is probably one of the simplest I've tried from BPAL so far, which isn't a bad thing, but in this case I think I would've liked something else in place of the orange blossom. I'm pretty sure that's the note that gives it that rest stop bathroom effect. Vice probably isn't for me, but I have a growing number of scents that I love and want to wear almost exclusively. Eventually I'll give it one more test, but if it doesn't work after that I might just give it to a friend who now has several sweet, fruity imps that I thought she would appreciate more than I did. Contrary to the name Vice, I think of this scent as being innocent and youthful... or at least it could be on somebody who doesn't amp orange blossom into bathroom cleaner territory. It's something I could see being popular with pre-teens who are just starting to wear perfume, and there's always room for scents like that in the wide world of olfactory delights.

Last night I wore Against Idleness and Mischief for the first time in at least a month, and this time the chamomile note was much more noticeable once the initial blast of "HONEY!" died down somewhat. After trying for a while to figure out what it reminded me of, it hit me that it smelled kind of like Hälsa chamomile shampoo from the '80s. Ooo, I loved the way that stuff smelled! I sometimes used it even though it was for blondes and I was an auburn-head. The honey note does stick around, because my skin never met a honey it didn't like. It's one of the honeys from my beloved Womb Furie 2012. That keeps this from being straight up Hälsa chamomile shampoo, but it still makes me think of clean, shiny hair. I like that it's a contrast to the spicy, resinous, woody, fruity, and musky blends I wear most of the time. Against Idleness and Mischief is just as gorgeous as it was when I got the imp about six months ago. I wore it to bed last night and I really think it helped me drift off to sleep.

I've been meaning to review this unusual scent for a while now. The notes were so appealing that I didn't hesitate to buy a bottle. Grapefruit in this blend comes across as lemon to me, which is a good thing. Hungry Ghost Moon on my skin is the scent of lemon poppyseed cake that gradually turns into more of a woody-ginger-citrus blend. In some ways it reminds me of Lemon-Scented Sticky Bat with the woods in place of the sweetness. Hungry Ghost Moon is not especially strong. It lasts several hours on me, most of the time with more of the woody-ginger-citrus feel. Citrus, wood notes, ginger, and vanilla are among my favourites, so I'm intrigued and eager to see how this ages.

In my collection, I'd say the most bizarre oils are The Bloody Banister, Bonfire Night, Mandrake, and the newest Planting Moon. I don't know if I would have sought out any of them before I got hooked on BPAL, and I don't really wear any of them often, but each of them is brilliant in its own way.

My imp of Horreur Sympathique went into the swap box when I got it fresh from the Lab because back then it was too heady and made me feel queasy. A few days ago I hit up BPAL.org/search for honey and plum notes and it was one of the results, which intrigued me. Knowing that other scents get a lot better with age, I decided to give it another try. Boy, am I glad I did. This has aged even better than Snake Oil, in my opinion. Now it's wafting from my skin in a plummy, grapey, sugary, honey-wine haze that's not too strong and makes me feel like going to goth night immediately. It transports me to the '90s, to long nights of drinking, flirting, and dancing under dim, swirly lights in ripped fishnets and combat boots. It's all Floodland and Cleopatra compilations and Propaganda magazine and alt.gothic. Having said that, I could wear it in almost any setting because, although it's deep and rich, it's not overbearing. Throw is actually pretty minimal after it dries. This is one of the most evocative scents I've ever smelled and it's going on my bottle list for sure. ETA, 4/24/2014: Last night I put this on for the first time in quite a while. I never did order a bottle, and that's a good thing. Age has really amped the thick black wine and champagne grape notes, which turns out to be a problem. Before it was even fully dry, I had to scrub it off with dish soap because something in it nauseated me. Wine and/or grapes were probably the culprits because that was all I could smell, and I've sometimes had problems with other boozy scents. I guess this imp is going back into my swap/sale box.

Wrath was a frimp with a Lab order a while back. I've been hesitant to wear it beyond an initial skin test, given that I have a Taurean temper anyway and didn't want to wave the red flag in front of the Bull. There really was no reason to worry after all. This is my second time wearing it and I have come around to the idea that it's really more of a homeopathic remedy for wrath, not something that would induce or exacerbate wrath. Wearing it actually feels pretty happy to me. Dragon's blood resin amps on my skin with a dark pink floral tone. I also tend to amp cinnamon, so those two notes could be battling it out for dominance, but it turns out they're singing a lovely harmony. There's just a little hint of black pepper and maybe just a bit more clove, which creates a nice supportive base for the dragon's blood and cinnamon. There may come a time when I decide to buy a bottle of Wrath, but for now I already have Dragon's Milk, Dragon's Musk, and Blood for those times when I feel like wearing some dragon's blood.

The scent of Planting Moon is that of summer squashes, pole beans, kohlrabi, tomato leaves, peppery arugula, upturned earth, and sun-warmed herbs. I put this on and right away my mind travels to the huge vegetable garden that my dad used to grow every year. When it's wet on my skin, it's as if I'm standing in the middle of all the tomato leaf, zingy arugula, and pole beans. As it dries there is a faint sweetness, as if I'm walking to another part of the garden where the squashes grow. There are herbs nearby. After the oil is fully dry, I smell the upturned earth. As for kohlrabi, I'm unfamiliar with that scent but it's probably part of that opening mélange. This is one of the most evocative, nostalgic scents I've ever smelled. As a Taurus, I'm pleased.

Akuma is simple but so perfect for a day in spring or summer... or any day when I need a mood boost. It's a cousin to Mania, at least to my nose, but with no musk. Neroli was one of the first essential oils I ever discovered (thanks to Brian Eno) and it's still one of my favourites. Blood orange and raspberry are also delicious on my skin. I smell like sexy Froot Loops!

Defututa isn't overtly sexual on me, but without a doubt, it's sensual. Still, I would wear it in a more innocent mood, oddly enough. To me it's a more girlish scent and not a bold scent that announces Woman to the world. Even knowing the inspiration for the blend, I think of Defututa as a girl just starting to explore womanhood. Honey, smoky vanilla, champaca, and sandalwood all love me as much as I love them, so I'm grateful to the Lab for having frimped me this in an order earlier this year. Otherwise I might never have noticed this subtle, seemingly obscure blend. Jasmine smells delicious to me in tea. I drink it sometimes just so I can huff the steam. That isn't how it tends to develop on my skin most of the time, though. It's one of those few floral notes that I haven't had any issues with so far, but only a hint of that gorgeous fragrance comes out in what is a masterfully blended scent. This feels pink on the verge of deepening into red. I love it and plan to order a bottle.

The Lab sent me this unusual blend as a frimp with my last order. It's a juicy red and green floral scent that's very true to its inspirations when I first put it on. As it dries, though, the honey emerges and I could swear that something in it reminds me of a note in Obsession by Calvin Klein after it's fully dry. Floral blends are like little minefields for me, as I'm never sure if I'm about to encounter a note that makes my head pound or turn my stomach. Even this scent, which was soft and pleasant in the morning, threatened me with a headache in the afternoon while it was still wet on my skin. After it dried down and stopped shouting its presence, though, everything was copacetic again. It could simply be that I shouldn't have applied it to the pulse point at my throat, because when I applied it that morning it wasn't so close to my nose. I've learned from this that a little Slippery Poppy Tincture goes a long way and I should avoid putting it anywhere on my neck or behind my ears. The poppy and acai stick around for at least three hours. Even after that, there's a long-lasting honey. This is probably going to be one of those imps that I'll take forever to use, so I'm unlikely to need a bottle. I'll keep the imp for sure.

I'll still wear the warm, spicy, musky, and foody scents that I love at any time of year, but I tend to wear scents like Entangled, Mania, and Lemon-Scented Sticky Bat almost exclusively from early spring through late fall. Where I live it gets pretty humid and warm-to-hot for most of the year anyway, compared to a lot of other places. If I avoided my sultry scents during the warm weather, then I'd wear them too infrequently for my liking. One of these days soon I'm going to give Lick It Softly a try, because I haven't worn it at all since Christmastime.

This is a safety blanket in fragrant form, with a serene, grounding quality that I so need. I feel as if I've known it for a long time. Such a nostalgic aroma is something that I'll gladly wear all year round. It's no surprise to me that I love it, as Sumatran patchouli is one of the notes in my beloved Sic Erit. I'm currently wearing SRP layered with SE and it's seamlessly beautiful. This patchouli is woody-sweet on me and not the "dirty hippie" scent stereotype. Sometimes I swear I get a whiff of cocoa, a ghost of cedar. It's just a little earthy. As hlinspjalda said, this is one for the patchouli lovers. I am one and I'll be buying more of this. One night I daubed it on shortly before bedtime and in the morning it was still there. When I put it on my wrists I can easily smell it without lifting my arms, but it doesn't overwhelm me. The oil itself is at least as opaque as #occupywallstreet. It goes on a deep reddish brown. Oh, how magnificent this will be with age! ETA: I must note that on some days, even if I don't smell of B.O. anywhere else on my body, I can sometimes get that B.O. funk from this patchouli on my wrists. Occasionally black patchouli does this too. My body chemistry has an iffy relationship with straight-up patchouli and I think it's related to what I've eaten and where I am in my hormonal cycle. This morning, coworkers were saying it smelled of hippies in a part of the office where I had just been, but I was too embarrassed to say anything. I hope I can remember never to wear it to work again.

This is all dark, sticky, plummy smoke that inspires me to imagine lolling on a plum-colored velvet couch in an opium den next to Oscar Wilde. Heady was a term invented for a scent like this. Evil is so substantial it's almost chewy and so strong I'm surprised I didn't feel sick. This is what Opium, the commercial perfume, would like to be but never was. It's almost an entity unto itself - a charismatic villain captured in a perfume vial. "You won't need much, just a tiny taste," said Oscar Acosta (Benicio Del Toro) in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. He wasn't talking about Evil, but he could've been. Hours ago I put a single small dab on one wrist just to test it and it's as if I slathered, so I will never need more than this frimp even if I decide to wear it many times. This scent demands nothing short of your most sophisticated clothes on a special night out.

Satyr might be my perfect "on the rag" scent, because I'm getting thick, sweet cinnamon with a musky edge that develops after the oil is dry. I only know civet because reviews suggest that it's one of the notes in Lil' Menes' Feline Entertainments, but there is none of that skanky musk in Satyr. There's no animal feel to this on my skin. This is like Sin's more outgoing, more amorous brother (yes, he's male, but yet I still want to wear this scent). Sin is, oddly, the shy sister and Satyr is the one who goes out and finds f*ck buddies for himself and while he's doing so, he kindly also finds one for Sin. Unless this changes with age, I can see myself needing a bottle. I do have a bottle of Sin, but I might want her more potent brother. Thank you for the frimp, Lab! I'm not sure I would've chosen this one based on the reviews.

Highwayman was a frimp with my most recent Lab order, but it's not something I ever would have picked for myself. I love cinnamon. Vetiver, red rose, and leather are all notes that I like depending on what notes are paired with them. Gardenia and jasmine, though, I just don't know about those two - many florals are not my friend. While wet on my skin, it's giving me nothing but a pale green/lavender colour impression and a general men's cologne scent. I can't even detect any cinnamon or rose and I'm not really sure I'm getting vetiver. Gradually I realize I'm getting the impression of flower stems. After it's just barely dry, somewhere off in the distance, and I mean way far off, there's a whiff of brown leather. It's only after I've had it on for nearly an hour that I get an ever so faint hint of cinnamon. Vetiver and red rose, two notes that tend to amp on me, are not showing up yet. It's important to note that hormones are probably wreaking havoc on it and it's most likely still unsettled from shipping. Now that it's dry, I like it more than I did at first, but it's still not really "me." I'll put it away to age.

Urd and Strawberry Moon 2012 are older sisters to 'Tis the Voice of the Lobster. Its woody, musky notes round out and smooth out the fruity notes. Something about this combination is very much in the fruity patchouli vein of Urd, while the strawberry is the same one that's in Strawberry Moon 2012. 'Tis the Voice of the Lobster was a Lab frimp, but it's probably going to be a bottle purchase for me.

This was a frimp from the Lab. Unfortunately, I got too queasy to make it past the wet phase. Other kinds of violet and lily notes have given me a similar feeling, but I took a risk. I had to wash it off.

The Lab sent me a frimp of this, but given my bad history with the Lab's violet note I was afraid to open the imp at all. It's the one note that is sure to give me a migraine if I put it on my skin, but I wanted to see if this time it might somehow be different. I so love patchouli and currant notes, and I was curious about the Spanish moss note because the stuff grew all over the place at the beach in South Carolina where my family would spend many a summer weekend when I was a kid. That piqued my curiosity enough that I risked at least smelling the imp in hopes that the violet might not be too powerful. At least I was able to get it away from me before the pain started, and all that happened was a head spike and a little nausea. This should be my lesson never to take the chance on smelling a scent containing violet at all. Actual violets have never seemed to bother me, but I just can't handle it in in a scent. Even though I couldn't give it a skin test, I decided to review it anyway because if anybody else out there finds that violet is a migraine trigger, they might want to steer clear of this scent. Having said that, if you enjoy the Lab's violet note, then by all means do try this. I have a feeling that it, like the other violet blends I tried before finding out it hates me, will have a lot of throw and smell deeply purple.

I once wore a BPAL with violet in it and after a few minutes I started developing a migraine. Now I have an advance warning system in my brain; just opening a vial or bottle of a scent containing violet is like a spike to the head, but at least that pain doesn't linger as long as I get the violet scent away from me. I don't know if violet leaf or Parma violet will do the same but I'm afraid to find out.

Here is one of the scents that creates a vivid mental image when I wear it, almost like a scent-play in my mind. Plum is the leading lady. Black currant and Amaretto are supporting actors. Burgundy wine is an extra lingering in the background of the scene. This labored theatrical metaphor is brought to you by my scent impression of a deep burgundy plush velvet curtain. Bordello is kind of dramatic sometimes, like a prima donna hogging the limelight, but sometimes she's a little shy. Before I got a bottle of Smut 2013, Bordello was what I wore when I craved Smut. (I had smelled an older version of Smut on a friend and started jonesing for it hard.) Now that I have both, I'm going to try layering because I get a similar tone from them, as if Bordello and Smut were two plays written by the same author. Maybe they're even scenes from the same play and Bordello leads into Smut. I haven't figured that part out yet. This is one of the most successful frimps I've ever gotten from the Lab. Its red-violet nature feels natural for me. Striking the perfect balance of sweetness and sultry booze, Bordello isn't so loud that it's inappropriate for my work in a creative field. If I worked in banking, for example, I might apply it more sparingly. As it is, I often like to slather it. Bordello has pretty good throw and lasts for a few hours before I want to apply more. Now that it's springtime I expect I'll be wearing it a lot more often, as it's perfect for the time of year when the world starts to awaken.

At the Mad Monster Party horror convention, I wore Goblin on Friday and Third Charm yesterday. I think today I might wear another one of my Weenies for the last day of the con, but I haven't decided on one yet. I'm leaning towards something pumpkiny, although Bloody Banister would make a lot of sense.

In the imp I smell cherry and lilies. On my skin this is nothing but straight up spike-through-the-head white floral. There's nary a cherry to be whiffed. Lily is a beautiful flower, but I don't want to smell like one, especially since my head hurts. I guess now I can say with reasonable certainty that I should avoid calla lily, lily of the valley, and probably stephanotis. Before it could even dry fully, I had to wash it off with baking soda followed by soap, just to be sure.

Recently I got a frimp of Psyche in an eBay auction. With some trepidation, I tested it on one wrist last night. Bulgar rose is far too heady for me in a couple of scents that I've tried, most notably Baghdad, and it was no different with Psyche. Florals can trigger migraines or nausea in me, so the notes did give me pause, but lavender and most kinds of musk are good, so I thought just a small dab would be enough to tell me if I could wear it. Lavender is a note I like, so I was happy when it came out singing after I applied Psyche. Then came a chord composed of a few vaguely resinous and floral notes in a different key. Bulgar rose showed up like a diva and hogged the stage, belting louder than the other notes could sing and making me just want to silence the discord. I could tell that some of the individual notes would be pleasing, but not all of them together, at least for me. Based on past experience, I feel it's the rose and frankincense that didn't work for me. I still haven't tried much Chinese musk but I think it might be the one musk I don't get on with very well. I washed this off when I realized it was just pitched too high and in the wrong key for my body chemistry.

I'm now leaning toward Banshee Beat for today. I only have a decant that I rarely wear, but it's a special occasion, after all.