romarin

In the bottle it's very rosy nosy, but fresh on the skin, it's more like fresh wet roses and good potting soil - very nice. Unfortunately it a sinus stabbing soapy note comes in so strongly I have to run to wash it off. After a good scrub, it's good home made applesauce in a varnished wooden box. Not bad, but not me. Now if I could just preserve that initial scent..

Creamy silky fizzy golden sassafras. Sweet but not too sweet, with hints of ginger and vanilla. Refreshing and relaxing at once. Tasty without feeling like I'm wearing my lunch. Lends itself to many moods, from soggy grey days to lazing in the sun. I need more of this!

On me, it starts as a good heather honey - which meets my skin and starts to flirt with baby powder until the wine and myrrh come in to pull it back. It has a richness that on another skin could be fascinating, but on me somehow becomes more "95% DEET" than voluptuous.

It goes on esters (probably the almond combining with the jasmine) and sandalwood. Fortunately the chem-labness of the esters quickly blends back in while a LOT more sweetness and just enough spice and musk to keep it grownup appear. Like membrillo made with hibiscus and thyme, or a fuschia velveteen cover on a polished wood pillow. It smells like a pomegranate looks on the tree. I rather like its mixed messages, but the spouse says "meh" and reaches for my unscented arm.

It sounded so promising, but on me, it's baby powder with undertones of curdled milk and dirty laundry. Not sexy dirty, just "back from a long stressful trip" dirty. I think the problem may be the honey.

On my and the spouse both, it's pleasant in a floral/herbal, no very definite notes way. It starts a lot like Cologne water and dries to something a lot like the herbal shampoos of our youth. It's ok, but there are other BPAL scents I like better.

On me: goes on mostly almond with some cinnamon, clove and cedar. As it warms, the bay comes in and the almond backs off..and then suddenly they both vanish and I smell and like an old oak box in the desert. Dry. Dry. Dry and woody. Not a bad smell, but a little ... weird. And then, after about three hours I start to smell like fresh moist spice cake. Based on my husband's reaction, it's a sexy spice cake. On him: it goes on almond and dirt, then becomes cinnamon and cedar, and then quickly settles into clove and peaches in syrup and wine with a dusting of cassia bark on top... only more velvety and less foody if that makes sense. Strong and not what I'm used to, but nice. Four hours later, the Baron turns his head and the fruit has been replaced by something a lot like bay laurel, blending with the wine and spices like bitters in a good cocktail. I don't normally go for bay rum, but Baron Samedi is a keeper.

In the imp, it has some interesting aldehydes and sweet herbs and then... presto chango... on my skin and my husband's skin, it's just baby powder. Sigh.

Goes on a complicated mixed floral with undertones of soap (in a good way) and maybe sandalwood. Feminine but not twee, tea at the Ritz kind elegant old fashioned. Quite strong initially, on me it fades within an hour to a vague Camay soap.

It goes on bathroom cleaner and Sprite, almost immediately morphing to Diet Coke + Windex. Which is a spouse repellant and frankly pretty naff. However, there was ... something... so I left it on. An hour later, it's dried to ginger ale and pepper and a bit of wood and just a bit of herbs and soap. What fascinates me is that periodically it gives off these bubbles of "flowers in a vegetable garden" or "sandalwood and dried cherry oatmeal cookie" and then drops back to ginger ale. It sounds innocent, but the effect is more "hyper-competent (and incidentally, but still appropriately for the office, totally hot) woman of mystery." In this phase, the spouse likes it very well indeed. Not something to put on when I'm rushing out of the house, but given some time to settle, Gnome is really nice and very versatile.

Named after the Roman God of Sleep. This blend helps bring on deep, restful, natural sleep. Figured I'd try this to see if it would help the spouse get to sleep. In the bottle it's a sort of muddled sweet/sharp floral. Doesn't do much for either of us. On my skin... it comes up as a very sweet, almost cloying floral. I'd say maybe honeysuckle or jasmine with something odd on top. Over the top of it there does seem to be a bit of dusty lavender to take the curse off. However, it quickly fades to something the spouse describes as "Soap Gone Wrong" and which I think of as "toasted nuts and dishwasher detergent with bleach." Not for us.

Fresh out of the imp it's like something went nasty in chem lab, but it blooms into ancient wood, dirt, a bit of smoke and minty(?!) incense. Like finding a cedar chest of books in an 8th century church. Quite strong. An hour later, the old and dirt of come off leaving sweet spices, cedar and resin, like dozing in a sunbeam under a redwood tree. At least until the flowers start coming in, so pretty and harmless looking as they brush and slide against your skin, as they insinuate themselves into your mouth and nose. Here comes death again as a low tolling B against the bright C major of the day. Shafts of light fall from high windows through dust and darkness, through the wafting incense and the pale flowers. The flowers almost hide the gap in the stone floor and the richly anointed body waiting to be lowered into that gap. A scent for amoral schemes and creepy rpg nights.

Goes on green with an undertone of bittersweet fruit (very nice), but the berry comes forward pretty quickly until it's a bit like a spiced, thoroughly candied cranberry. I think I'd like to eat a candy that tastes like that, but as a scent it just sits on me.

First impression - Pecan praline! Lots of toasted nuts, sugar and cream, with a touch of acrid caramel and bitter coffee to keep it grownup. Later - the bitter/acrid note mellows and a faint fruity (pumpkin?) note comes in as the whole thing settles down, becoming more "what does that remind me of?" and less "time for elevenses!!!!!" It's wearing my food, but it's warm, friendly, mischievous yet sophisticated food... I'm not sure WHY it also comes across as sexy on me, but preliminary results suggest that this would be a good date night scent that would still not raise any eyebrows at work. Definite keeper!

Imp appears to be pretty well aged, but I couldn't say for sure. To my nose - it goes on wood, smoke, soap, a touch of smarties, leather and then becomes smarties candy in bike armor (which is a very ...odd... combination). However, in 30-60 minutes, it drops back to saddle soap and engine grease on steel with a bit of walnut and just a touch of something sweet and not quite but almost floral. My husband's response was immediate and succinct- "Perfumy [lady] crotch. Not in a bad way." Not an ordinary-day scent, and there are others that are sexier on me, but... a troublemaker scent - like something I'd wear to play my guitar really loudly. It's also staying within about 5cm of my skin, which keeps it wearable in public. The imp is a keeper, but not rushing to buy a bottle yet.

Starts off non-specific floral, with a bit of lemon and cedar and... then it turns into a really naff hand creme before it backs down into a slightly peppery [gardenia-like?], unctuous scent that is giving me a sick headache. Not for me.

Goes on sugar, soap and hot spices. Settles down into a (strangely nice) caramelizing sugar and toasted hazelnut effect. I'm not sure what happened to the pumpkin and rooibos, but it's not worrying me!

It goes on as indeterminate floral but quickly comes out as a plain, ripe, real peach. There might be other notes, but you can't tell because the peach gets peachier. And peachier.... Half an hour later, intense waves of PEACH are rolling off me and into the hallway. And by peach, I mean a really intense, last thing smelled by Jame's aunt as she's crushed to death by the giant peach, peach. Way, way too much. So I went to wash it off. However, the soap and water appear to just lift off the excess fruit. The peach is still there, but it's beautifully balanced with a bit of smooth wood and something a bit peppery. Belle Vinu, scrubbed under the pump, is quietly cheerful but not thoughtless, innocent but not naiif, witty but not mean. She's also a good kisser. This turns out to be a keeper.