nathanielhebert

An explosive blend of effervescent golden ginger and black peppercorn with sarsaparilla, gurjum balsam, nutmeg, gear lubricant, and smoke. I've been frimped the old version of Gnome a few times—in the bottle, it's a light liquid, and when applied, it smells like very effervescent ginger-ale. In fact, it triggers a scent-memory of sipping Canada Dry in some wood-grained gas station while waiting on tuneups. I can recall being a little disappointed about not picking up the other listed notes, but it's a cute scent on its own, almost a single note ginger ale, complete with plenty of fizzy bubbles. Now, I've received the newer version of Gnome, which is a dark, almost viscous fluid. In the imp, it smells like something has gone off—it's musty, industrial-leaning, and heavy on the gear lubricant. On the skin, it doesn't fair much better, I think I pick up the balsam and pepper, but it's mainly motor oil without a hint of sweetness or ginger. This seems to be a mystery, because I've never seen the lab mention changes to the formula—so maybe this is something we can chalk off to batch variations? In the end, I had a stroke of genius and combined the old with the new, and I think I've been able to capture what was intended for Gnome. The fuzziness of the ginger-ale lends some sweetness to the lubricating oils, and the overall blend feels a lot more balanced and conjures up the listed notes as intended!

I have to admit, Hastur doesn't match my preconceptions, but is a scent that's growing on me the more I slather in it. Kudos to BPAL for not pulling any punches with this one—I'm sure there must have been the temptation to sweeten it up along the way, but this is a scent for people who like their coffee black. Hastur is really dry, and the labdanum present is sour—not in a citrusy way, but more in a sticky-resinous fashion. Once Hastur gets heated up on the skin, I find the sour resin and tobacco pairing sweetens up a tad, and the scent really carries in the air. It smells like something Lush wishes it put out in its heyday, but upon closer inspection, the sour note paired with the patchouli is a really close ringer for their deodorant I've been using for years, Aromaco! Hastur is how I imagine BtVS's, vampire rebel, Spike, might smell like. Posturing in the dark of the cemetery, wearing his leather trenchcoat, chain smoking cigarettes with his nicotine stained fingers. An adjective has come up often in this thread to describe Hasture, but it's true, this is the scent for lurking, or as Spike might say, "I'm not lurking. I'm standing about. It's a whole different vibe!" This is a smell, not for the "big bad", but for the "bad ass"—the rebel without a cause, wrestling with inner (and outer!) demons while looking so cool.

Drunk hobo in autumn wrapped in wool, sort of nails my initial impressions of Mr. Prenderghast. It's strange, because on paper, the individual ingredients sound intriguing, but what they neglected to mention is the fact they've all been tossed into a garbage bag and left to ferment in the sun over the summer. When Mr. Prenderghast is applied wet, it's sort of like that initial blast you'd get when opening the green garbage bag—a nostril searing mix of something sour and peppery, with a few stray ketchup packs lost in the mix. I had been gifted a bottle of this, so I saw it as a duty to really give Mr. Prenderghast a fair shake. Every so often, I'd pull it off the bench, give it a whirl, and crinkle my nose at the onslaught of nicotine-stained yellow fingers and pickles. I even poured a small batch into an old furry touk, and watched Paranorman, taking a deep inhale whenever Mr. Prenderghast made an appearance... yes, hobo in wool. But a funny thing's happened. I've tried it so often, it's almost become a nostalgic scent for me now. It's been aged about two years, and the aggressive onslaught has really mellowed out. What lingers is a warm, fuzzy, musky brown scent, like sticking your nose into the wool sweater of someone who chain smokes and pounds back a lot of black coffee. It's a cozy, comforting scent, and it's also got a lot of staying power and throw.

I received a bottle of Kroenen, and while it didn't meet my initial preconceptions, I do really like this blend a lot! I had been waffling on buying a bottle of Sloth, but held off because it felt a little too static and simple—well this is the myrrh scent from Sloth, dialed down a little, and instead of vetiver, it has been paired with labdanum in this bottle. The labdanum is resinous and a little smokey, and mixes well with the strong black leather. Altogether, it's a very dark, black scent, well-rounded, and a touch sweet. Smelling it on my skin reminds me of goth clubs, with a gaggle of leather clad folk coming in from smoking cigarettes outside—their leather jackets gleaming with metal studs and zippers. The blend could fit in well with the Steamworks scents, the mix of labdanum and myrrh smell medicinal, in an old-timey, licorice way, and when paired with the shiny black leather, it's almost like shoe-polish... the sort that can buff up a pair of 20-hole Docs for ultimate ass-kickery. Overall, I'm impressed and can't stop sniffing this steam-punky, leather-clad, cyborg!

Let me start by saying that I've quickly slathered my way through one bottle of Captain Cully already, and for me, it's always sort of melded into a rugged, leather scent. In fact, it reminds me very much of a well-worn, brown suede jacket that I inherited when I was younger—I used to tuck my nose into the crook of my arm and the smell is nearly identical. So revisiting the Last Unicorn collection I came across the description, and thought I'd wear Captain Cully all day to pick out the individual notes. The scent is well-blended, and even with the copy in mind, my nose interprets the oil as suede leather that's been given character by the tonka, woods, and porter swirling in the background. It's a very BROWN scent, the leather is sweetened slightly by the tonka (in a way that reminds me of Dee), and on dry down, the wood notes separate slightly from the leather, becoming more distinct. I don't really pick up on the porter, but it might be contributing to the brown impression I'm getting. Overall, Captain Cully is probably one of my favourite BPAL scents—it's simple, uncomplicated, warm, inviting, slightly masculine and rugged.

I'm the husband in question, and after obsessively sniffing my wrists when this is worn, I opted to upgrade to a full bottle. Right off the bat, the star of the show is the zucchini -- cutting board fresh, which adds a very clean green scent to the proceedings. Resting underneath is a rugged leather note, and a very tame, dry vetiver. Sometimes, depending on my chemistry, the notes will change position, with leather and vetiver in the forefront, and the sweet smelling zucchini lingering in the back. As the scent dries, the zucchini note is the first to go, with leather and vetiver lingering on. The leather in question is a rough sort, calling to mind rugged tanned hides. For those usually afraid of vetiver, I'd say give this one a chance, as it's not of the smoked-mesquite, BBQ variety. As it dries down further, the scent reminds me of Scarecrow, as the vetiver is very grassy, dry and hay-like. Overall, it's an interesting blend that works well together despite what you might initially think! I'll be wearing this out in the garden and in the forest as soon as spring starts thawing winter back.

Might I suggest, skekUng the Garthim-Master -- it's attacks on the offset with smoke and vetiver, but I find on me, the dragon's blood resin really steps forward... perhaps a little too much. I was hoping for a drier scent, like Agnes Nutter, but skekUng, mellows out into a slightly, sticky-sweet, cherry scent with the initial fireworks being more subdued.