hadaverde

Snake Oil goes on sweet vanilla with a mysterious smoky quality lingering beneath. The spices quickly move forward, however, keeping it from becoming cloying in its sugariness. The vanilla remains apparent, but not enough so to drown out the subtly layered spices. I think I can identify amber and myrrh somewhere in the mix, as well as a sweeter spice...clove or nutmeg, perhaps? Several hours later, this oil is still going strong. The vanilla is blending equally with the spices now, and the mixture smells good enough to eat. I absolutely love this oil. My only complaint is the fact that it stains my skin yellow -- right now, I look like I've been playing too rough, as the stains on my wrists and neck look awfully similar to fading bruises... (edited for typo)

Initial contact with the skin produces a bouquet of roses and a warm cup of orange spice tea. The orange peel note is surprisingly apparent at first, but moves to a secondary position before long. Fifteen minutes and it is almost entirely roses. There is a barely-detectable backdrop of spices, but the almond and even the sandalwood are pretty much entirely lost amid the florals. After an hour, the rose is still most prominent, but it is no longer drowning out the other notes. The sandalwood comes a bit more to the fore, and the spices again make themselves known. This oil is a bit too rosy for me to use with regularity, but it has very impressive staying power, and will be nice for occasional wear.

This oil goes on with just a touch of sweetness, reminiscent of fresh hay. After a moment or two, it begins to take on the scorched quality mentioned in the official description. It also starts off almost overpoweringly strong, but fades to a tolerable level fairly quickly. Within half an hour, the scent is obviously earthy, but not in the typical heavy, moist manner of most earthy scents -- rather dry and bright. There is a distinct floral note here as well, but it is not a sweet one -- it evokes the image of a bouquet that has been dried and bleached by exposure to the sun. While this scent doesn't strike me as wholly unpleasant, it is definitely not *me*.

Slightly rummy and very spicy to start out! The clove and bay are very apparent, and the sassafras is identifiable as a secondary note. I swear I can detect some pepper in there as well. There is most definitely some cinnamon in this blend. It becomes the most prominent and longest-lasting note in this oil. That is likely my skin's doing, it always ends up amplifying cinnamon. I love the way this smells when it's wet, but the drydown is unfortunately all cinnamon when combined with my chemistry. After several hours have passed, the cinnamon dissipates and I am left with a lovely lingering sassafras. It looks like this will be one for my scent locket, since I really don't relish the though of applying my perfume three or four hours before heading out somewhere, nor do I want people to mistakenly assume I've been baking cinnamon rolls all day!

The primary scent upon application is dusty old wood, like something that's been locked away in a historical society's storage attic for many years. After a few minutes, the almost-but-not-quite-musty overtone subsides, and a mildly spicy/incensey note becomes apparent. Around twenty minutes in, it is rich, dark, and exotically spicy with a woody lower note. Just a touch of sweetness, and a definite flavor of the Far East amid the spices. After an hour, the saffron and lotus bloom nicely, softening the heaviness of the woods and spices, creating an exotic yet mellow blend.

O goes on musky and very sweet. It has an almost fruity undertone, presumably the honey. The sweetness verges on sickening after the first ten minutes -- the amber sets a nice backdrop but the combination of honey and vanilla is nearly overwhelming. After about half an hour, the cloying aspect of the sweetness passes, and the amber's prominence increases somewhat. The honey note is still the strongest and the sweetness factor is still a bit higher than I'd like, but it is tolerable now. The underlying amber makes it a very sexy sweetness, however. I like it, but I don't think I could wear O regularly without finding some single note to layer with it in order to cut the sweetness a bit.

This scent is truly gender-neutral when wet. It is a soothing herbal with a nearly medicinal bottom note, rather like an herbal soap. The lavender is the most easily identifiable component at the outset. As time passes, it becomes rather powdery, still soapy (though not unpleasantly so), and more floral than before. After an hour or so, Melpomene mellows to a pleasantly clean, vaguely-powdery, light floral, but is not overly feminine. In combination with my body chemistry, it settles down to little more than clean skin freshly washed with an herbal soap. This isn't something I would wear as a signature scent or special occasion perfume, but it strikes me as perfect for hot humid weather -- it would be a cool and refreshing counterpoint against a sweltering, muggy climate.

Begins as a brilliantly sweet plum and dry, violet-like floral note of orris, with a subtext of amber. After the first ten minutes or so, the grapefruit and bergamot make an appearance, with plum remaining at the forefront. By the thiry-minute mark, the florals have very much come out to play, forcing the plum to the background beside the amber. As time passes, the plum mellows further, leaving an earthy lower note with a juicy floral overtone.

Initially, the myrrh and sassafras are most prominent, with a slightly sweet floral undertone. The sassafras causes an intense but short-lived burst of root beer, which quickly fades to the background, and the nutmeg warms up to the myrrh. Myrrh remains the strongest note as time passes -- the nutmeg and poppy combine to add a spicy sweetness which, in combination with the backdrop of sassafras, results in a mental image of sipping a creamy root beer float while sitting in a coolly shaded parlor at an elegant, worn, yet beautifully polished dark wood dining table.

Upon application, it smells very strongly of red apple, with a sharp woody subtext. It reminds me of the stems and occasional leaves one finds attached to organic apples in the grocery store, more so than the flesh of the fruit itself...or perhaps like living apple trees at the pinnacle of the growing season. The vivid apple note fades to the background fairly quickly, but doesn't disappear completely, as the woody note moves to the forefront. After an hour or so, the wody notes fade and blend, and the apple takes on equal strength, the result being somewhat akin to a freshly-opened pouch of apple pipe tobacco. I like this one, it is surely a keeper. It strikes me as appropriate for any time of year -- there are aspects of all seasons captured in this tiny vial, and it contains a perfect balance of warm and cool notes, allowing it to adapt to any climate or weather.

This starts out a humid, spicy floral, but the warmth of the amber and musk creeps forward almost immediately thereafter. Time warms the scent further, the amber becoming wonderfully entwined with the carnation's spiciness, the berry note tempering the combination with a kiss of sweetness. After an hour or so, the various notes mesh into a lovely incense-like scent with a lightly floral twist. This oil dries down to a near-perfect duplication of Gonesh #4 incense, "perfumes of orchards and vines". For over a decade, Gonesh #4 was my absolute favorite incense, and it is still in my top three, so Carnivale is a delightful discovery and is definitely on my "must acquire a larger bottle" list.

This oil goes on all warm almond with a hint of spiciness and a bright splash of citrus. The lavender is also present, though the other notes outshine it. As it enters drydown, the thyme moves to the forefront, as does the lavender. I could swear I detect some rosemary in there, as well. Thirty minutes in, this smells like a damn impressive approximation of fresh-baked rosemary scones with strawberry jam on. Once an hour or so has passed, the sharper aspects of the thyme and lavender have subsided, and the whole thing seems to be blending well with my skin, though the thyme and rosemaryish aspects, and, to a lesser degree, the berryish note, are still lurking in there as well. Very nice, though I am a bit disappointed in the lack of staying power in the almond note -- but I think that has more to do with my skin than the oil itself, as most scents that are heavily almond in the bottle, lose their almond aspect when on.

Tarty sweet and jamlike at the outset -- very purpley-red and mostly plum/currant while wet. There is just a small suggestion of the alcoholic undertone of the wine and amaretto. As it dries down, the vivid, almost-fuchsia deepens to a worn plum-colored velvet, thanks to the rise of the burgundy and amaretto. It is rich and heavily fruity with a warm nutty secondary note. Oddly enough, this mellows to something that reminds me distinctly of freshly-baked cranberry muffins. It is also strangely reminiscent of hot, bright summer mornings at my late grandparents' breakfast table, due, I think, to a likeness to the scent of mashed strawberries and rhubarb, of which we often had a small side dish along with the usual breakfast spread. This remains a sweet, heady scent throughout all its many stages.

It most assuredly starts off rosy, but it is not the almost-overly-sweet tea rose so often associated with perfumery. And there is a note of something else here, as well, something darker and muskier... Yep, still rosy. A little more sweet/flowery than when wet, but still not in an overpowering sort of way. The musk and amber notes seem to have taken a backseat for the time being. After an hour or so, the rose notes are still going strong, but the musk has served to mute and deepen them in a most agreeable fashion.

Going on, Alice is prominently honey, with a slightly spicy, almost citrusy edge. As it begins the drydown process, the floral notes step forward, their sweeter aspects enhanced by the sunny backdrop of honey. About fifteen minutes in, the honey has somehow transformed into an almost-amber note....upon reflection I believe it to be the combination of the honey with the spiciness of the carnation. Alice mellows into a nice light, yet long-lived, golden scent. If O is your favorite evening scent, Alice is its daytime counterpart. This oil makes a nice work-appropriate daytime alternative for people who tend to prefer the sultrier, darker musky or resinous oils that may be a little too full-bodied for the typical white-collar environment.

Absinthe starts off with a strong, sickly-sweet anise note that brings to mind a rather unpleasant cough drop. The anise recedes after about fifteen minutes, and the prominent note becomes prickly, warm, and green, with a deceptively sweet undertone. As time goes on, the greenness fades almost entirely and all that remains is a sticky licorice-drop medicinal smell. I really, really wanted to like this one (hadaverde does mean "green fairy", after all) -- and I would really love it if the green phase would stick around longer than twenty minutes on me.

Initial contact with skin produces a floral-aquatic blend, medium-bodied and quite pleasant. The aquatic notes fade to the background within moments, yet do not disappear entirely. During drydown, I am definitely getting the tea and grapefruit notes, but they blend together in such a way that it still strikes me as something of an aquatic scent. It isn't a deep or fast-moving sort of wetness, though, more along the lines of thick mist, heavy dew, fog in an open meadow in early autumn. The tea and citrus add a warm, almost comforting feeling to what would otherwise be a chilly scent.

This scent starts off deep, wet, and peppery. It is a rich, dark-green and brown-black when initially applied. As the scent progresses into drydown, the sharpness of the pepper dissipates and something murky emerges. It seems a little bit "off" in combination with my skin, almost like the muddy darkness of pond water. Additional time brings out more herbal notes, and the murkiness recedes to a somewhat more tolerable level. All in all, this strikes me as a rather more masculine scent, and one that isn't altogether unpleasant, but it isn't something I am likely to wear again, because of how it combines with my body chemistry. I tested it on my sweetie, as well, to see if it transformed itself into something a bit more palatable to me, on his skin. Though he liked it fairly well, it behaved very much the same on his skin as it did on mine, so this one will likely be heading off to the swap pile shortly.

This blend starts off as a clean, yellow-green herbal concoction, so clean it verges on soapy, but in a pleasant way. After ten minutes or so, a deeper backdrop appears, a little thicker than the initial herbal overtone -- I believe this would be the myrrh putting in an appearance. On me, the myrrh remains the focal point of this oil, with a hint of a rose creeping forth, though it is not so floral as to make it overly feminine.

Perversion goes on smelling like leather that's been sweetened with a rubbing of coconut oil. The coconut note is barely identifiable, it melds with the leather to such an extent that it comes through only as a sweetness. As time passes, the leather remains most prominent, but a new secondary note steps forward -- this must be the tonka bean. This oil seems to hit a nice plateau at this point - sweet, vaguely resinous leather - and remains there for hours. Very nice! I really like the way this works on me. I tested some on my sweetie, as well, and it wore pretty much the same way on him as it did on me. Yep, I think we'll probably *each* need a big bottle of this, especially since we're both suckers for the smell of new leather...

First application of this one yields a mixture of woods -- fallen cedar logs on a bed of dry fir needles. It reminds me of playing in the woods near my parents' house when I was growing up. The woody notes are very quickly overrun by the dragon's blood, which is a note my body chemistry tends to amplify quite a bit, regardless of how much or little of it is present in a given blend. After an hour or so, the dragon's blood recedes a bit, allowing the woody notes to creep forth again, but with a tickly, somewhat spicy overlay this time around.

Tamora starts off sweet, cool, and fruity, reminiscent of a delicate sorbet. There is a lovely floral backdrop to it as well, subtle and well-blended, which compliments the fruity notes nicely. I don't really detect much change as time passes -- I'm not noticing an emergence of any additional notes, it remains the same gentle golden blend of fruit and florals. The only real difference between wet and dry, is that the scent softens just a touch as it dries down, the fruits lose their bite and mingle a little more smoothly with the flowers. This strikes me as an ideal scent to wear in hot weather, it seems to have a cheerful, cooling effect.

This beautiful exotic floral goes on blended so well that it is nearly impossible to pick out individual notes. It does have a very lightly resinous undertone - the copal, no doubt - which is almost spicy, but not strongly so. As the oil wears, the orange note is occasionally identifiable, but for the most part weaves itself seamlessly with the floral notes. This scent is unique, I've never smelled anything quite like it before. Quite lovely!

I've had a lot of warmth, sometimes straying into the milder edge of "burning" with all the blends containing cinnamon, but it's been far from intolerable. I have a bottle of cinnamon scent oil which I purchased elsewhere, pre=BPAL-- I think it may be diluted, too, as it is about 1/2-ounce and was extremely inexpensive -- and it is the most evil stuff that has ever touched my skin. It burned so badly that I ran to the bathroom within less than two minutes of applying it, and washed liberally with soap and water for many minutes, and after it had been removed I had welts that took a couple days to disappear. It may just be that the amount of cinnamon in the BPAL blends I've tried is sufficiently diluted with other scents, hence I don't have as violent a reaction to it. Anything that has cinnamon in it also stays only on my wrists and in my hair, I don't put it on my neck, behind my ears, or in the cleavage area, as those spots are all more sensitive to the heat it produces. Aside from cinnamon-containing scents, I don't seem to have any sort of skin reaction to BPAL oils, unless you count the fact that Snake Oil discolors my skin to create a disturbingly jaundiced-looking effect anywhere I apply it. Heh. Those of you who are having reactions to Inferno and Eclipse -- do you have any nut allergies? Almond is a common component in both of those.

It seems I've seen this question come up several times now...perhaps one of our kind and much-appreciated moderatrices could place a sticky thread either in the "Swaps" forum, or perhaps more appropriately, in the "FAQ" forum, to be used as a "BPAL Lingo Glossary"? In addition to "decanted" and "tarted/tarty", it would also be a good place to define other words and phrases commonly used in perfumery, such as the difference between "top notes", "middle notes", and "bottom notes", and info on some of the single notes of rather more mysterious origin (the 'what is dragon's blood?' thread springs to mind)...