LiberAmoris

I know I'm in the far minority here, but Dana O'Shee didn't impress me that much. It smells just like the fragrance oil my friend uses to make her Oatmeal, Milk & Honey soaps (which aren't my favorite either). On my skin, it has that definite play-doh smell, and something plastic-y, underneath the almonds. It wasn't something I wanted to run and wash off, but I wasn't impelled to finish off the imp, either. I gave it to a friend who absolutely adores it.

“Yet Giovanni's fancy must have grown morbid, while he looked down into the garden; for the impression which the fair stranger made upon him was as if here were another flower, the human sister of those vegetable ones, as beautiful as they--more beautiful than the richest of them--but still to be touched only with a glove, nor to be approached without a mask." ---from Rappaccini's Daughter, by Nathaniel Hawthorne There was a time when I thought I could not wear roses. An otherwise singularly lovely junior high school teacher wore a single note of rose perfume every day; it was so strong that you could smell it 20 minutes after she left the room. But if there’s anything BPAL has taught me, it’s that rose is delightful when blended artfully. Blood Rose is amazing to me. The rose is so perfectly balanced with the darker, berried notes. The first day I wore it, I was reminded of Hawthorne’s classic short story Rappaccini's Daughter. Blood Rose for me is that blend of the beautiful and the vicious. I love it and I have officially put it on my Big Bottle for Slathering Purposes list.

On me, Hunger started out as a heavy, over-the-top cloying floral and never dried down to a scent I was comfortable with. It's so sweet to my nose that it reminds me of a Pikaki perfume that my aunt brought back from Hawaii---that gave me headaches. However, I layered this one with Velvet and it really took down the sweetness a few notches. Now all I get is chocolate orange and sandalwood, with the occasional waft of the once-overpowering orange blossom. I don't know if I would wear Hunger again on its own, but I'll keep the imp for wearing with my beloved Velvet.

If you like Hot Toddy, you might also like Hellcat. They are very complimentary.

My review for Bayou is long overdue. I got a freebie imp of this in my first order and wasn't immediately attracted to it, even though I lived in New Orleans for a year and have nothing but the fondest memories of the place. Then one day I decided to try it on a whim. Wow. The name made me think it would have swampy overtones, but this is a straight-up aquatic floral to my nose, very feminine and complex. It's turned out to be one of my favorites, never failing to lift my spirits with its classy, polished, verdant finish. There's something humid and sexy about Bayou that does remind me of New Orleans nights, and this would be a perfect fragrance for a Mardi Gras ball or even just a night out at Miss Mae's, drinking $3 whiskeys.

The description of Bordello was so evocative that I was dying to try it. Before I even uncorked the imp I was conjuring up every image of a southern gothic cathouse I had tucked away in my brain from films with lavish production budgets: pink and maroon striped wallpaper, artfully asymmetrical lines of drying lingerie, blood-red carpeting, mahogany paneling, and dark-eyed ladies lounging about in corsets, petticoats, and dressing gowns falling off the shoulders. Bordello did not disappoint my imagination. In the vial and when first applied to my skin, I smell brandied cherries. As it dries, the amaretto really emerges and mingles in a sultry way. The end result for me was a sweet, post-coital berry with a spanking of dark liqueur. It was like Bon Vivant’s darker sister, and is the first predominantly berry BPAL scent that I think I’d be willing to commit to a big bottle of.

Cathedral and Anne Bonny smell very similar to me, although AB is a touch sweeter and has that 'salty wood note' that many have mentioned. But both have the same base of resiny/incensey wood notes, at least to my nose.

The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid sleepy voice. “Who are you?” said the Caterpillar. This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I--I hardly know, sir, just at present--at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.” I was expecting to like The Caterpillar, because so far I’ve loved all of the incensey scents I’ve tried, but this far exceeded my expectations. It’s definitely a shape-shifter on my skin, starting out with a riot of florals suspended over a carpet of moss, patchouli, and vetiver. Once it dries down, it smells just like what I imagine the underbelly of a caterpillar to smell like: grasses, earth, and a throng of sweet florals. In particular, I can smell the carnation and jasmine---yummy! This lasts all day on me and makes me smell like I’ve been tramping about in the woods. I’ll definitely get a big bottle of this when my imp runs dry.

In Depraved there’s the deep, rich smell of earth turned up underfoot (patchouli) and a sweetness that’s both innocent and knowing (apricot). Together, they smell more to me like a longing for depravity than depravity achieved. If I sniff my arm, I get the smell of pencil shavings, but the waft is of a crushed apricot dredged in moist, dark soil. There’s something incredibly sexy and tangible about this scent that reminds me of a summer I spent misbehaving with a guy I worked with at the local pool. When the sun went down, we would drive to the woods where we would climb to a platform in the trees that overlooked an enormous waterfall. In Depraved I can smell the same mixture of wood and the warm current of sweetness given off by skin. Now I'm going to have to try Imp!

This was another freebie that the Lab threw in with my last order---they are so generous. I’m ecstatic that I got the chance to try this, because I probably would never have ordered it on my own based on the description. This is one of the most unusual and original of the BPAL oils I’ve tried so far---I can honestly say that I’ve never smelled anything like it. It reminded me of downing Hot Toddies in a certain Irish bar in New Orleans that I used to frequent. There’s a sweet rum note, a touch of tropical coconut, a swirl of smoky pipe tobacco and a sexy smack of leather. It’s another one of Elizabeth’s blends that can match my mood perfectly when I apply it, always ready to comfort, stimulate, or simply warm me with its presence. I added my imp to a small jar of coconut oil, and use it to slather myself silly when the mood strikes me.

This was a freebie from the Lab with my last order---thank you! When I uncorked this imp, I thought: It’s Strawberry Shortcake gone boozing! Dee-lightful! On my skin, though, the smell of the strawberry itself was lost amongst the sweetness of the champagne, and it ended up being too cloying for me. I passed it on to a friend for whom the strawberry is foregrounded, and she adores it.

Tempest to me smells like the Shakespearean island from the eponymous play. It’s like the smell of the water carried in the wind after the storm. It’s filled with the odors of crushed verdure and a brush stroke of citrus from a storm-bruised orange grove Prospero planted to remind him of his Italian homeland. I get all of that and the open ozone note that makes the floral and citrus bloom on my skin and cast their nets wide. This is a very clean fragrance, but to my nose the citrus keeps the scent from entering ‘dryer sheet’ territory. I’m not sure I’ll be buying a larger bottle but I will use up the imp I have and then consider getting another one in the spring.

Although Veil is a complex floral and masterfully blended, on my skin all I could detect is the high, bracing, overpoweringly antiseptic smell of lavender essential oil. It was unrelenting and did not evolve the way Elizabeth’s other blends have on my skin. It’s clearly my chemistry, though, as it smelled delightful in the vial. This fragrance would probably be a good match for fans of lavender e.o. or fans of essential oil blends in general. In the vial I could smell a tantalizing tangle of violet, lilac, and gardenia and on the right person I can imagine it would be a knock-out.

After enjoying Cathedral so immensely, I was pleased to find that Anne Bonny is a ‘sister-scent’ with the same incensy-resins and sweet wood notes. With my chemistry, Anne Bonny is a touch sweeter on the skin, almost like Cathedral dipped in honey. Piratey, deck-swabbing goodness. Like the scent of wood planks mingling with an open cask of rum.

If there was ever a fragrance to capture the hearts of lapsed Catholics, this is the one. As others have noted, it smells just like the swinging sensers used in special Masses. My BF was raised Catholic and later defected, but when I dabbed a bit of this behind my ears he perked up like he was about to receive the host. For me, it connotes less religiousness and smells more of polished wood, incense resins and the delightful reed-y quality of water damage on old books. (I realize I may be alone in treasuring the scent of water damage on books.) There’s a natural sweetness to Cathedral that’s also tremendously relaxing and meditative. I plan on keeping some Cathedral on hand for when I need to tap into that kind of drowsy, ‘pax vobiscum’ atmosphere.

The first time I wore Spellbound, I was unconvinced of its power. I had just emptied half an imp of Persephone on my person, and I think in that context, Spellbound seemed less potent, with a shorter ‘reach.’ However, I tried it again yesterday and DEAR LORD, it’s incredible. I’m not a huge roses fan, but this smells to me like roses in a voodoo shop. I used to live in New Orleans, so this is not an idle metaphor. The rosiness is perfectly counterbalanced with the amber and musk, and the result is a well-socialized blend that can speak to anyone in the room. When I wear this I can almost see the proverbial wafts of scent beckoning forth in undulating arms and pulling others towards me. To me it didn't smell Old Lady-ish. But maybe if the old lady in question had lived the full, rich life of a libertine!

I was very excited about Eidolon, as it is one of my favorite words. It started off with a strong blast of lemon which within minutes had softened to include the wood notes. It then moved into a surprisingly lovely candle-like scent, by which I mean it actually smelled like hot wax and flame. The smell was so picturesque that my mind actually conjured up the image of writing by candlelight. Eidolon disappeared quickly on my skin, and I’m not sure I would purchase another imp of it, but I will use up the imp I’ve got.

Beautiful, radiant daughter of Demeter... her loveliness was so exquisite that even Hell itself could not resist her. Pomegranate and rose. When I first smelled this on my skin, I got the same nail polish remover scent that others have noted. However, after that initial swath, it was all roses and pomegranate. I concur with the adjectival leaning towards ‘juicy’…it was almost like nectar. Citrusy and rosy and pithy, with just enough rind to keep it from being too simple. In short, it’s very pretty, and perfect for the myth. It really captures that balance between the earthly rose and unearthly pomegranate, and manages to divide its attention equally between both notes, as Persephone divided her time equally between worlds. I’ll need to order a big bottle of this for those days when I feel similarly complicated. ETA: I got my big bottle. I applied it this morning at 9AM and it's still going strong at 6PM. This one lasts and lasts!

Velvet manages to be jaw-droppingly sexy, comforting, and delicious all at once. I can detect both the sandalwood and the vanilla, but they’re so well-blended that they seem less like individual notes and more like one note drawn from some heretofore undiscovered tree in Elysium. There’s a drop of cocoa but it’s more fabulous than foody, like chocolate with a case of cognitive dissonance. I wore this today as I was running errands up and down NYC’s Broadway, and even amidst the various and overpowering scents of the city, I could still smell a halo of Velvet around me whenever I stopped walking for a moment to wait for the light to change. If Velvet had a soundtrack, it would definitely include Björk’s Hidden Place from her Vespertine album. This is big bottle material.