tartchef

In the imp, Lycaon was distinctly cologney, to the point that I put off testing this for a few days... I needn't have worried, though - once on, this snarling man-beast is decidedly well-behaved. The ginger, myrrh & cypress are most prominent, a spicy, lightly fizzy combination akin to very very dry ginger beer... For all the heavy notes in it, Lycaon is fading fast, leaving a vague halo of woody spice after barely an hour It's really tasty, though, a more wearable Penitence, at least for me (the myrrh amped to a high-pitched shriek in that one)... I'll try this again in a few days & see if I can get Lycaon to stick around...

I totally agree with you when Y'ha-nthlei's in the imp, but the aquatic notes in it are very oily & heavy on my skin - once it starts to dry down, the two are vastly different, IME... Stellans beware!

This flew completely under my radar for ages - the word "aquatic" was enough for me to skip right over it... Having had good luck recently with Selkie & Dream of the Fisherman's Wife, though, when this came into my hands, I decided it was worth a shot... In the imp, it's delicious - sweet, cool water bubbling over clean round stones. Once on, the eucalyptus is a bit brash, nudging things dangerously close to Ocean Fresh laundry soap... a few minutes to dry, and it calms down a bit. I get little hints of the bergamot & ambergris, pale yellow & lavender-tinted flashes on the surface of an ever-deepening tidepool... Um. Why am I smelling mayonnaise? The aquatics are thickening into an oily tang underneath the sparkling top notes, giving the distinct feel of candied flowers on a thin smear of mayo. Um. I need to wash this off. NOW.

If you liked the concept of Kathmandu, but found it too medicinal, Tombstone might be a more wearable alternative... there's that same cedar & rootbeer element, but without the Ace bandage O_o This is a lovely, cuddly scent on me, faintly masculine & comforting. Like wrapping up in my husband's sweaters when he's out of town... Sweet & woody, with a nice dry edge to it, and a beautiful drydown of vanilla & sandalwood. Not the thing to wear if you want to attract attention, as it hovers very close to the skin, but just the thingfor a quiet night in... My husband gave Tombstone a test-drive yesterday, and it was verging on horrible with his chemistry On me, the notes all blend together, but on him, they stay very distinct & jarring, the vanilla & cedar clashing terribly. He smelt like he was 15 & had been slapping on his mum's potpourri oils So. A lovely scent on some, but certainly sensitive to individual chemistries...

Rosewood and chamomile with bergamot, violet, red sandalwood, primrose and Arabian musk. Phooey. Libertine was in my very first Lab order, several years ago. I loved it for all its herbal yumminess, but ended up swapping it away... When I got another imp in a recent sale, I was so happy to have it back... It seems, however, that the body chemistry shift that now allows me to wear vetiver has bumped Libertine into the Off NOW realm... the bergamot & rosewood amp to the screeching, soapy oblivion of all the other notes. Bleck. That said, it would make a delightful addition to some bath salts...

Oh goodness... Hanami is super pretty, all frilly pink blossoms & eyelet lace. It does start a bit soapy clean, not objectionably so - remeniscient of a line of very expensive Japanese skin care lotions & serums. The soapy edge fades quickly, leaving a faintly sweet halo of cherry blossom & wisteria. Alas, there is something hiding in here that is just too close to commercial floral perfumes for my liking - it's starting to amp on my skin, leaving an odd taste in my mouth. Glad I just got a decant - Dragon Moon & Spell of Amorous Love are infinitely better with my chemistry.

Her Voice is an enormous gamble for me - florals as a rule are absolute distasters on my skin, turning soapy & sickening almost without fail... but hyacinth! Beeswax! I had to give it a shot... Wet, Her Voice is chilly & greengreengreen, absolutely the florists'-shop-cooler scent described by other reviewers. It's a bitter floral, all stems & sepals, with a trace of soapy lily of the valley & purple hyacinth - amazingly, it's not awful on me, not yet. I would have to be careful when I wore it, though - I can definitely see migraine-potential if I wore it on an off day. Once dry, the carnation & rose come out, along with a strange funky note that I cannot place for the life of me... sort of burnt, but not really... close & brown & decidedly weird. Is it the heliotrope? The vanilla musk? Maybe my chemistry doing something odd with the beeswax? Tough to say... luckily, it seems to be fading, and I can only detect it if I press wrist to nose, so it's not a deal-breaker. Her Voice finishes quickly, ending up a quiet, vegetal & floral blend - akin to Tzadikim Nistarim in a lot of ways. Well bust my buttons - a big bunch of flowers that I didn't have to wash off! Her Voice isn't a big winner for me, but it is delicious in the vial, so I'll keep my decant & wear it in a locket for the days when I wish somone had brought me flowers... ETA: Holy hell, folks. I reapplied. I missed Her Voice after it faded, mid-day. This is... monumental.

Guh. That combination sounds a-frickin'-mazing! Alas, all the anise blends I can find are either pale Asian-inspired florals or have a lot of other notes that would probably drown it out... The only thing I can suggest is perhaps layering Kabuki with Sin...

I started a quest late last summer, a search for more warm & hot weather scents to balance out all the woods & resins in my collection... here's what I now have on hand: For very early spring, when the weather's still raw but I need something uplifting: White Rabbit The Darkling Thrush The Lion Crow Moon Mag Mell Harikata For when the daffodils & crocuses finally bloom: The Hermit Her Voice Selkie Cheshire Cat March Hare For when I can start wearing cropped pants, but still need a cardi: Dragon Moon Hanami Dream of the Fisherman's Wife Calliope Tzadikim Nistarim Agony of Heartache Tanuki For when we can finally leave the windows wide open at night: Lady Una Fairy Wine F5 Green Phoenix Sundew Kumiho Caliban Gennivre Whee! That was fun

Mm... this is a fruity cousin to Hemlock... there's that same pine-branch-dipped-in-clear-caramel feel, but with a lovely tannic, non-cloying berry note. As it dries, the tomato leaf peeps out, green & savory. It's a real mish-mosh of scents, like walking around a scented candle store, going down the pine aisle, the berry aisle, the kitchen candles aisle... Really interesting, but honestly not something I could see myself wearing regularly. It would make a pretty awesome room spray, if you were into that kind of thing...

In the bottle, Gennivre is all tea - fresh & bracing, but with a healthy dollop of sugar... When I first apply, there's a moment that makes me hesitate - I can't really articulate it, just a fleeting impression of "whoa, something's not right..." I think it's the clash of the mint & lemongrass - neither are notes I wear very often, so it's likely my nose isn't quite on point... As it dries, the honey comes out, along with an oddly musty floral - akin to hyssop, but it must be the orange blossom & sugar cane... it warps what should have been a lovely summer scent into something slightly off & decaying. In concept, this is very, very cool, but as a perfume, alas, it's missing the mark for me. I'll try this again in a few weeks & see if things shift...

Ooof! Grapefruit & lavender, sharp little knives going stabbystabby at my nose! Thankfully, that calms down very quickly, the pithiness giving way to a rounder scent, a ruby red grapefruit dipped in lavender & vanilla sugar... the chamomile is lurking, adding a faintly herbal apple-ness. The currant is there, too, coming out more as it dries - red & tart & sticky like grenadine. By "dark musk", I'm thinking Beth means something closer to red musk than black - I'm getting none of the powder that black musk usually turns to on my skin - and it adds a deep, faintly incensey foundation that keeps Cheshire Cat from being nothing but fruit & herbal tea... I like this far more than I thought I would, not enough to warrant a bottle, but it's a lovely imp to have around for the warmer months.

Woo! This is fun! Totally not what I'd wear on a daily basis, but it would be perfect for a summer's eve party... festive & bubbly but most certainly not girlish. In the vial, it's a tart, juicy sparkler - Asti & cranberry, with a slosh of something a bit heavier... As it dries, the initial fruity blast fades to a deep red currant wine with a lovely astringent green note... the honey is barely perceptible, adding a touch of sweetness without being in the least bit cloying. I'd pegged this as a novelty scent only, but the longer I have it on, the more I like it... it makes me feel like dancing barefoot in the grass under a spreading elm tree, lit with fireflies

Only if I were to try & pass it off as the usual scent I would certainly try to find a new home for it, but definitely be up front about your experience with it. A link to your review would be helpful, and folks could easily compare your bottle to the rest of the reviews... Don't think of it necessarily as a bad thing that your bottle is different - what made it not work for you might make it work beautifully for someone who'd crossed that scent off their list... Can I be uber-nosey & ask which scent?

Word to that! It's beautiful, smoky & exotic & the Yum. Dracoo9, did you get a chance to try Morocco since your last post? I'm curious what incense scents you've tried so far, maybe we can narrow down what it is that amps on you... I'd avoid Scherezade, Anne Bonny, and Penitence - all gorgeous, but very heady. Perhaps Bastet or Xiuhtecuhtli would work for you... the Lion is spectacular, all amber rather than incense... So. I know it's unfair to wax rhapsodic about that which is nigh unattainable... but the original Celestial Aries is a frankincense lover's dream - hot pepper & ginger at first, but with that stunning white floral note that frankincense sometimes has when wet (I get lots of it in Valentine of Rome, too)... it dries down to almost a frankincense single note, deep & warm & bittersweet I've decided that if I had to smell like only one thing for the rest of my life, it would be frankincense...

Aries is my Holy Grail, that which I'd read about but never, ever in a million years thought I'd get to try... let alone own a bottle! Thanks to ifinena's spectacular sleuthing skills, though, here I am, Preciousssss in hand, and it is everything I'd hoped it would be... In the bottle, it's hot & dry, with a trace of a beautiful, elusive floral - oh frankincense! Applied, that note comes to the fore, but it's in no way cloying - it reminds me of really good incense, all smoke & spice, but dipped in a heavenly attar of something... Sookster's right in that it is akin to magnolia, or gardenia, a lush white blossom... The ginger & pepper & smokiness keep it grounded, pushing Aries firmly away from "floral" territory. After an hour, the bloom fades, and I'm left with a deep, almost bitter waft of incense, austere & focused. To be sure, this is not perfume, per se... it's more akin to the TAL Temple blends, in my mind, a scent for very private, solitary moments... This grounds my spirit, and helps me release the sluggish baggage of the past that I tend to carry in my chest... I breathe deeper, sit taller, stand firm. And I smell divine

Woo! Smokey boozey patchouli... I can absolutely see where inurbanis got cigarette ash - there's a dry bitterness lurking at the edges, remeniscient of Death of Autumn. As it wears, there's a trace of aftershave, but not the masculine whallop I had feared. The rose & currant are nowhere to be found... Wow, this really is DoA's slightly more dandy cousin - smoky, bitter & black leafiness, with just a hint of powdery amber & sweet rum...

(Appropriately admonished... I had totally failed to mention in my post that I don't use it on the skin. Thanks for the reminder, ivyandpeony!) /hijack

And, to brandish the Obvious Stick, there's TAL's Temple: Norse, one of my all-time favorite scents... Not to mention, super-evocative.

Wowowowow. This is awesome stuff! I get lots of cloves, too, and a trace of powdery sweetness that transforms Valentine of Rome into, of all things, spicy rose candy. It's gorgeous, faintly perfumed & smokey-spiced, like Turkish Delight on a pretty plate with a cup of Lapsang Souchong tea. The myrrh & frankincense are beautiful together, mimicking clove perfectly, and it's obviously the olive blossom that my brain is translating into rose... if there's cypress in here, it's keeping mum, maybe just cutting the sweetness a bit at the end. Thank heavens I listened to Wwindy's squeeing, or I'd have totally missed this - time will tell, but this could quietly work its way into my Top Ten...

Rose geranium, frankincense, Ceylon cinnamon, golden musk, bay rum, and bois du rose. In the bottle, Longing is a sweet & soapy musk, foppishly masculine, if that makes sense... Once applied, it quickly dries down to fresh green & cinnamon over that same musk, which must be bay rum... it's an oddly compelling combination, bittersweet, fresh yet cozy... Alas, the bay rum & musk combination is pushing the frankincense into powdery territory I smell like a strikingly handsome man who has just emerged from an extravagently-priced spa, steamed & shaved & massaged to perfection... which I am most certainly not. I'll try this on the husband, but I suspect it will be a bit too much for him, as well... Shame... this is 4 out of 4 Love Poems that just haven't worked for me, and I don't have high hopes for my last two. Phoo.

Rose & I have a historically bad relationship, stemming from the childhood summer I spilt a bottle of eau de toilette all over my bedspread & carpet & had to live with the stench of Avon's Tea Rose for months after... But the promise of clove, nutmeg & cedar was too much for me to resist, and I snuck the Clod & Pebble in on my last Lupercalia order... In the bottle, it's all soapy rose & pencil shavings I waver. I seriously consider selling the bottle on the spot. But that would be beyond lame, to be cowed by a perfume, and so I persevere... Wet, it's much the same, but with traces of clove & incense smoke... I keep bracing myself for screaming rose, but miraculously, it never happens. There's a really interesting frisson between pretty sweet pink roses & deep sticky resins & spice... It's been so long since I've left anything this rosey on my skin, and I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around the scent... The throw is quite lovely, with the sweeter aspects of the rose & spices coming forward. Up close, though, there's that sharp soapiness & graphite that puts me on edge a bit... Miss Lynx is right - Clod & Pebble has a harsh edge to it, but there's the potential for greatness here. Worth cellaring for a bit, I think, to see if the cedar & rose calm down & let the sweeter spices come through...

Yummy-juicy-tart-sweet! Fruit of Paradise opens just a bit too sweet for my taste, but quickly dries into a delicious pomegranate with a trace of incense smoke... and fabric. Really. There's a cottony papery dry note buried in here, almost like sniffing a pomegranate tea bag... it's surprisingly pleasant, a cozy closeness that grounds the rampant fruitiness... Alas, this fades so quickly - barely an hour and it's mostly gone.

My husband gave this a whirl last night... now granted, he did apply a bit more than usual (3 full swipes from the imp), but still - whoa, talk about throw! I could literally track his movements throughout the house... It's a very crisp, classic green-&-woods-cologne scent on him, with the citrus & florals adding an interesting layer. It would suit a man a bit more... formal than my husband. A man more inclined to expensive shoes & sleek cars... Orpheus is quite nice, fresh & sophisticated, but ultimately it doesn't mesh well with J's overall personality. On my skin, it's piercing bitter man-fume

Mmm, fresh bitter hops & a trace of Captain Black... this is much fresher than I'd expected. In the bottle, the cherry & tobacco dominate, but once it hits my skin, any chance of cloying sweetness vanishes. There's something almost anise-like lurking, and the tonka shows its face only after an hour's wear. A Bold Bluff is full of masculine notes, but not especially manly, if you follow - it's a very subtle scent, more the natural smell of a well-worn tweed jacket slung over a heavy wood chair in the corner of a dark, quiet pub... a kinder, gentler scent than Herr Drosselmeyer, but certainly in the same vein...