jj_j

Smelled soooo sweet out of the bottle, I almost passed on this one. Good thing I'm sticking to my rule about trying them all, no matter what - because Voodoo turned into something really good for a while. Lime, vanilla, and myrrh start this out, and that's a fantastic combination. The pine eventually peeks through, and the crisp, needly green is a nice addition. The almond wasn't a factor after this touched my skin. Unfortunately for me, the clove becomes more and more obvious, and within five minutes I knew this would have to go - cloves give me instant headache. It's a shame, though, because the rest of this scent was a gem.

Hmmm ... my skin turns this to definite sandalwood, followed closely by lemon verbena and cedar. It's good - this is the smell of old furniture just polished, or the smell of furniture polishing rags in a pail under the sink - and as the lemon verbena takes over, it really is like a good homemade lemon meringue pie sitting on the windowsill that overlooks a clump of cedar trees. Yummy, and I'm still contemplating whether I'll purchase a bottle or not.

I can smell the violet, and the iris, both of which I enjoy. The other scents, though, never make it out, and I get a soft, iris-y violet that seems pale in comparison to Veil. Too many other fantastic violet scents made by Beth for this one to be a re-order for me. Not bad, just not as vibrant and fantastic as the others.

This order has surprised me greatly, because I'm down to scents that have never been on my "to try" lists, but which I should have tested long ago. Rakshasa is one of those. I'm normally very wary of sandalwood. I love it, but it seems to amplify itself when hitting my skin, so it can get out of control very quickly (Velvet is a good example). In Rakshasa, though, the sandalwood and patchouli mean an exotic, almost orange-spice note to go with the rich, sweet rose bloom that's the core of this scent. Never overwhelming, woody, or floral, and going on my to-order list.

Oh, this is nice! Definite lotus, and definite gardenia - I have soft, sweet, flowing floral surrounding me - but I seem to have an imp that didn't include the mint. I don't mean it doesn't have much, I mean there's ZERO mint in this one. Like it a lot this way, though, and now know that lotus is one of the notes I had a hard time identifying in some of the Tarot blends.

First on, Black Forest is distinctly juniper. Crisp, and almost piney in nature, it makes me think of crushed needles underfoot. Ambergris is so soft and mellowing in this - it's absolutely velvet smooth, like stroking the soft nose of a rabbit and not wanting to stop - and the cypress is a fallen tree alongside the path, adding a woody note that's bark-like. Others have "smelled the animals" hiding in the brush, and since I have a distinct reaction to musk, I'm surprised that I never crossed paths with them. I don't smell like a tree, or a forest, because the juniper fades and I'm left with a soft, natural, out-of-doors scent that's really lovely. Will be adding this one to the purchase list, as well.

I was surprised to try and like Kabuki, as I'm not a fan of anise or red musk. This was soft and compelling, though, and never ended up smelling like licorice on me. Opens up with sweet, tangy cherry, and softens to a rich, almost-anise note similar to the one in Snake Oil. Lush, sexy, and soft, without being cloying or overly floral-feminine. Definite purchase.

Same thing with Ingenue, I believe.

Thanks, Nella - I think a lot of us have been concerned about not being a bother while you guys are working so hard, but unsure of the best way to contact you for questions. The update is greatly appreciated! Thanks for taking such good care of us!

Can't wait to "meet" you, Michelle -

Nella! It's great to meet you.

Yep. Black label; white skull over crossed swords.

Smoky moldy trees weren't all that appealing, so I went REALLY easy when applying Damnation. This seemed to do the trick, as I wasn't overpowered or overwhelmed by the definite black and earthen tones that came from drop I applied. I can believe that this scent is representative of a Black Mass. It's the exact opposite of anything light and clear and "good" - and is instead the heavy, enveloping, almost elegantly disquieting scent of "wrong." Not something that I'll wear regularly, but perfect in what it was designed to be.

I should have kept more of my single notes to compare against for when my nose gets confused. Sticky-sweet on, I can barely stand the first couple of minutes of Haitian Lover. Luckily, I got distracted by my toddler on the way to the bathroom to wash it off, and sniffed again about five minutes later. What a surprise! Softly sexy man-skin, with what I think is Siberian Musk (knew I should have kept those Single Note imps!). Sniffing again almost fifteen minutes later, I have subtle warmth coming off my wrist, and the gentle not-powdery-powder scent of ambergris that's dried down for a while. I don't get A highly sexual, passionately primal love oil for men as much as I get the manly version of O. Sexual, yes. Soft, passionate kisses for a half hour, yes. Love oil, no doubt about it.

I swear I posted this earlier, but I can't find it anywhere on the forum - mods, help me out if I've somehow lost and then duplicated the post ... Not the dry, pungent spice in my kitchen cabinet, but the zingy, sweet scent of a black licorice candy. To that, absolutely true.

While I don't care for almond scents, the raves about Hecate and its smoky tone made me order an Imp to try. Out of the bottle, and first on, this is so stickily sweet that I'm almost unable to hold on and not give in to the temptation to break out the Dawn dish soap. The myrrh, combined with this note, turns to a pickled scent for a few minutes, but finally calms down into itself. In the end, a spiced myrrh scent that has both reticent sweetness and strength. Not something I'll be purchasing, but it's exotic, interesting, and loved by many. Glad I tried it!

Yum! The scents are so intertwined I can either smell only the whole, or each note in bursts if I stick my nose into it. Think the vanilla of Snake Oil, a hint of root beer in the background, the spicily dry fragrance of pencil shavings, and the warmth of sweetly woody balsam. Lots of strength, and good for masculine or feminine, depending on which notes your body brings out of this. Dry-down stayed exactly the same on me, which is unusual - but I'm not complaing about something that smells so fantastic when I put it on staying so perfectly delicious throughout its wear.

I put the Vicomte on my fella this morning to test it, and it was a huge mistake. He smelled soooo good, I could hardly keep from sniffing him. In fact, he smelled so good we almost didn't make it out to breakfast. I even considered skipping class, the ultimate no-no in weekend courses, since they only meet once a week and cover 3 days worth of material in one. He wasn't moved by the scent much, but was impressed that I obviously was. In fact, Vicomte de Valmont smelled so good, it totally distracted me from the conversation at hand, which boiled down to him not being ready for a serious relationship. 12 hours later, I have no idea if we'll still be seeing each other but keeping it light, or if he's ruled that as impossible. All I know is that he smelled so good I couldn't think and that the waitress kept my coffee cup full for a change. ViciousViolet's review of the scent itself needs no additions - she encapsulated my impression of this one perfectly! However, I have no hesitation about wearing this one if he's not going to be around to slather it on ... it's that fantastic. It's definitely man-in-a-bottle, though.

Oooh! Spike of pennyroyal, right up the nose - but in a good way. The lavender really softens the bite of pennyroyal (and considering lavender's often astringent tone, that should tell you how sharp pennyroyal is on it's own), leaving a bright, fresh, and clarifying scent that's a little like good furniture polish and a lot like a wake-up call for me. Different, dramatic, and a remarkably down-played, delicious version of what I was expecting. Well worth a try ...

Naturally, juniper's sharp and pungent aroma takes over the scent and needs a few minutes to settle in and back off. The oakmoss comes along and plops down at the bottom of this all, and uses the patchouli to help anchor the bright, fierce tones of the juniper and myrrh - kind of like a balloon weight. When it's all said and done, though, this is a crumbly wet earth smell, complete with a rosebush nearby sending the scent of its flowers on the breeze. Nicely done, but not a standout considering how it feels enough like Zombi - and not much compares to Zombi.

From the bottle, violet. First on, lavender so sharp it's almost peppery; perhaps the vetivert's peeping through? The combination, though, softens out and the vetivert starts to come through. It never takes over, and it's not the heavy, root-like smell you may read about in the single notes, though - it's earthen and weighted, and keeps the lavender and violet from spiking through the center of your forehead. So interesting, and so adamant; I don't know a better way to explain the kind of presence this scent has. It would be easy to over-apply, as all of these scents are distinctive and fairly pungent on their own; you can imagine the possibilities for potency in their combination. Probably not a re-purchase for me, but I think I'll keep the Imp, as this is definitely something I like smelling on myself.

This is a power outage in a room with no windows - so black you can't see your hand in front of your face .... but you can smell the absolutely sexual creature nearby. It's heavy, it's overwhelmingly feminine sexuality, it has that faint band-aid note from Pulse Points that I love so, and it's the kind of scent that makes you hope the wearer brushes up against you as they try to find their way around in the dark. Your fella will sniff this on the air, grab your wrist, and give you a dazed look while panting, "Damn it, woman; what is that?!?!!" Fair warning - *I* am going to be that absolutely sexual creature standing next to you next time the power goes off in the building, as this is going on my immediate purchase list, in spite of being a floral. The dry down is a softer, afterglow-but-I'll-need-you-again-in-ten-minutes sort of way that's as irresistable as the first notes.

I'm pretty well known to be incompatible with civet and jasmine, but I try every BPAL scent that comes my way. Nyx turned out to be well worth the test run, in spite of the jasmine it contains. Myrrh is an absolutely beautiful addition to the rose and jasmine here. For me, it's not just the saving grace of this perfume, it's the highlight of it. I'm so very surprised at the warmth and effervescence of these three combined; I still smell the jasmine, but it's so tied to the myrrh, and so much more palatable with the rose, that it's almost delightful. I'm not a floral fan, and Nyx isn't something I'll be wearing regularly, but I think I'll keep the Imp to finish. The scent description may be one of desolation and inky-black skies, but any woman wearing this tropical, slightly cerebral, and tempting scent won't be alone for long.

Remarkably light for all the dry and wooden notes in this; I expected the arid feel of Seance, but got the scent of a cove of trees unable to withstand the force of a thunderstorm. Wet green leaves snapping against the jagged and broken limbs of trees beaten by the storm; wind, rain, wood, and a rumble of thunder are all combined in Magus. Not something I'd wear often, but an understated scent that manages to be vibrant at the same time.

We all know what a great job Beth does with rose scents, but I think she deserves kudos for what she does with violets, too. I have yet to meet one that I actively dislike, and most I absolutely love. Nocturne is a soft, smoky violet made pliant and creamy by the tuberose; lilac casts a pale, ethereal light on the blend and offers up a waft of delicate springtime. Softer (but not lighter in intensity) than Veil, heavy-lidded and peaceful.