hipslike___cinderella

I think it only suitable to preface this by saying... I love rose and lily notes. And although I've only experienced stephanotis in The Queen of Hearts, I LOVE it, so all three of those in Madeline had me very interested. This smells wistful, feminine, and realistic. This is a floral that almost includes the dewiness, the floral being picked at the very height of fragrance. It seems like it will be strong at first, but ends up quite light... if that's possible. Quite simply, this is rose, lily, and ivy. The "wilted ivy and upturned" note is very similar to The House's "creepy moss and moldy earth" (I think someone has mentioned that). This blend also holds up the same, a long time, without changing. I will admit I'm surprised that myrrh is listed, because I don't get the slightest hint of it. This lasts a few hours, and by the end a womanly, almost soapy whiff is left. Very adult-like, and as I said before, wistful. This is a little too straight-up feminine for me to wear often, but I appreciate it nonetheless.

Initially, I had claimed this as a musty, rotting wood scent. After taking a day away and then testing it twice, I looked back over my first notes and thought, "Really?". The second time around I decided The House was much more floral. I think the proper assertion would be the best of both worlds. First of all, I think The House falls perfectly with this year's Haunted House scents, right between The Forbidding Foyer and The Ghastly Garden. "Moss" is the predominant note to me at first, and the earth note is the prettiest earth note I've smelled; not a scream of "DIRT". This is rather light on my skin, too. Only then do I get the blighted roses. A little strong at first, but even out to light, white roses. While I do enjoy this transition, I'm kind of sad that for so long this starts to smell like a rose single-note (yeah, I love rose, but I also love complexity). I find my favorite part of The House is the fade-out. It's everything I want in a dirt-wood-flower blend. It's this skin-light floral, almost musk smell, like the smell of skin after being out in a flower garden all day. So pretty.

To preface, this is a review of the 2007 Dark Delicacies version of Alone. Alone is a deep, velvety red, brooding blend. It does not morph much, and the scent is pretty straightforward. In the bottle, and on my skin as well, it is easily predominately a spicy cardamom (hence the references to "cinnamon"). It is a little on the sweet and rich side. I can't help but think that the deep brick red bottle label is a fitting color. I hope for the other notes to show up on my skin... and I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed that it didn't happen. After quite a long time I specifically notice the patchouli (red patchouli, maybe?), more woodsy than earthy. That's as far as it goes. It's so well-blended that the other notes are almost impossible to detect- especially gardenia. Any floral note is totally out of sight. I tested this excitedly last night, and then today full-on slathered for good measure. It is especially frigid today and I spent all morning in class wrapped up in my coat and scarf, Alone permeating from my warm neck through my scarf and wafting off the ends of my hair. It was a spicy, warm, completely cozy scent, and rather strong. Very lovely!

Oh. Em. Gee. The Phoenix is so wonderful. Delightfully wonderful. Bouncing around my apartment doin' a happy dance wonderful. Why? Because whenever I crave a giant, juicy sea blast, I go for Thalassa. And it appears as though The Phoenix is Thalassa's companion-in-arms. Upon first whiff, The Phoenix is a salty surge of limey ocean, with weathered wood that's just starting to tang with blood lurking in the background. When it hits my skin, it's POW. Salty. Lime. Even a tiny hint of body given by Snake Oil (in fact; I don't like Snake Oil. Really. But there really must only be a dribble there). It seems as though my skin doesn't allow each note to shine... but that is OK with me. The Phoenix really is a tart, masculine companion to Thalassa's perfumed sea spray of jasmine and almond. The "sea" note is just so similar. It's just as gorgeous, and I covet both IMMENSELY. Had I known this would be such a winner, I would've bought more than one bottle.

I have had such a hard time trying to review Pirate Moon, I've just decided to jump in. First, I can echo other people in saying this blend is very light. It also smelled very familiar. Maybe I'm crazy, but I don't really interpret this as an aquatic, either. In fact, I don't interpret this as... anything? It's mostly in a world of it's own. It's sweetly woodsy, bitter with palm and ambergris, tart with lime. While all the notes are smooth, I still get the specific "feeling" of sandalwood and balsam. After a while, I realize what seems familiar- I smell a "reedy" sort of note (palm?) that reminds me of Meshkeret, the Vulture Maiden. Just slightly... but it's there. Overall, Pirate Moon is light (and a fast fader on me, unfortunately), and I really wish I could detect any tobacco or leather, but it's intriguing. Just when you think it's familiar, it seems like something else. Ugh... does that make sense? I don't know what else to say except it's sophisticated. I have trouble calling it "pirate-y", "aquatic", "beach-y", anything. It is it's own special beauty.

Da-yum. This oil is luscious and addictive. In the bottle, it smelled so suspiciously like All Night Long (the only other Voodoo blend I've tried) that I was almost disappointed. A tad bit musky, sweet cassia (which I would later decide was cinnamon, not cassia). In fact, I huffed the imp so strongly hoping for something different, that I was sent into a fit of sneezes and my nostril burned. Here's where I get scared to test it out. On my skin, it didn't burn at all. I smelled musk particularly (to my delight... for my oils, musk is ALWAYS a welcomed note), and some kind of woods. I'm thinking red sandalwood, maybe? It's much less spicy on my skin (bonus point #2). At this point, I think of it as a warm, sweet skin scent (skin musk?) and cinnamon bark. It's quite understated and close to the skin. I do love the musk, but I have mixed feeling about the cinnamon. The night wears on... ...Later on, this gets sexier and more interesting. The cinnamon has faded to a light sweet note, and the musk is becoming enrapturing. At this point I'm beginning to feel convinced there's a drop of civet in here (rawr) and I can't budge my nose from my arm. It's something SO FAMILIAR. After obsessively racking my brain, I decide it might be champaca flower, and MAYBE red patchouli. (*My belief is furthered after I researched champaca, and found that it's a supposed aphrodisiac, causing euphoria, warmth, and stress reduction). It's damn-near resinous, but clearly woodsy and floral. Just... phenominal. Alluring, soothing, sensual... a scent to be shared by those who have the pleasure of getting close enough to you. So my final verdict is maybe... cinnamon, musk, civet, champaca flower, red sandalwood, red patchouli. Just guesses. I can't wait to try this on my boyfriend (er, with my boyfriend, I mean?), and a 5 ml bottle could be in my future.

Well, I've just tested Mandrake on accident. I got it as a frimp, tried to open it to sniff it, and the oil was so slick and slippery that I dropped the wand and it spurted on the back of my hand! So naturally I think, oh well, I'll try this one first! Mandrake is THICK in consistency. I couldn't believe it. I had to wring my fingertips around the palms of my hands before typing. Although thick, the scent is so very faint. I think this is one of the most natural-smelling BPAL's I've come across. It's earthy, without a "dirt" note. More like a "root" note. I distinctly smell a hint of cedar- not like classroom pencils, but I specifically think of sharpening my lip liner pencil. Ha! Don't know why. Really, that's all I can say. Earthy, rooty, a bit cedar-y. I've never come across real mandrake, so I can't compare. This is interesting, but way way to faint to be interested it. Someone a couple of pages back mentioned it could be good in an oil burner, and I agree.

I'm really pleased to have gotten Vice as a frimp, because I would've otherwise never tried it. In fact, I thought it was off-putting in the bottle (foodie-phobic, here) but I pulled through. I quite like Vice. It's not really the chocolate note (a very medium-bodied, not dark, not lite cocoa), and not the cherry either (which on me is not so strong; I don't call this "chocolate-covered cherries" on my skin). It's the orange blossom. I'm right in the middle of an orange blossom obsession right now. I don't know why, but it's like that specific note is interconnected to my sex drive; weird, and tmi, I know, but that's the only way I can explain it. It's drop-dead sexy, plus, my skin soars with it whenever it's in a blend. The combination of cocoa and orange blossom is just tantalizing. I loved how it wafted around me about 15 minutes into it, but later on it morphed into a strange cocoa note- something powdery and also reminded me of a tinge of BPAL's milk note (don't like, thanks). Vice doesn't last too terribly long, and it's still not really my thing; more like a scrumptious novelty. I'll use it for those sinful chocolate urges. Thanks labbies!

Yow, only one other review for Samhainphobia '07 so far? Where's the love? I nearly squealed with delight when I opened this (I haven't had any other incarnation of Samhainphobia before) because this smelled downright dank and sour, with vetiver creeping about. Yeah, only I would find reason to squeal about that. Anyway, this is predominately patchouli and vetiver for sure at first, and I can detect that BPAL "autumn leaves" note. First, I'm fascinated by just how insanely thin this oil is. It practically vanishes into my skin immediately. What smells foreboding in quite light on my skin. This is clearly vetiver-lite, "autumn leaves", and oakmoss. Atmospheric and realistic without being assaulting or overpowering. This stays very, very close to the skin and you can to be close to smell this. If you appreciate straight-forward takes on vetiver or patchouli, consider Samhainphobia. I'm thinking of getting a 2nd bottle before November, but I haven't yet decided. I hope more people give this understated charm a try!

I have a history of feeling lukewarm about Moon blends, and have nearly stopped ordering them, but one thing called out to me in the description: "feral, animal notes". Yum. I am of the small camp of Black Annis lovers, and I ignored my dislike for wine blends in hopes to find another lovely civet-like oil... there just aren't enough out there. Upon sniffing for the first time, I almost wanted to giggle. Hunter Moon caught me off guard... it is so sweet! Sweet and musky, the true-classic description sort of musk. The kind I wanted. It also reminds me of the "doeskin musk" in Coyote. I also smell that foreboding booze, berryish wine in the background, but I hold my breath and apply, hoping that it will keep in its place. Oh, goodness, this is still very sweet. But-oh! I smell it. Those animal notes. This isn't a dirty or scary animal musk, but a sweet (I know, I can't stress that word enough), and almost... charactered musk. It's jaunty, it's nearly cute. This isn't a photo realistic buck; this is Bambi. For whatever reason, on me this stage is solid, and it never went anywhere from there. Not even slightly. No change. The throw was light to medium, and the wear was rather short in duration. I waited for the bonfire, the leaves, and it never happened. Even the wine didn't show, except for just a NUANCE of berry. Overall, I'm not disappointed, because I like this anyways, but it's not what I expected. It could stand to be less sweet , but I asked for musky-musk-musk, and I got it!

Opoponax, benzoin, orange blossom, mahogany, karakarounde, white tea and vetiver. A quizzical one, this is! Without a list of notes, I would swear on my soul that I was smelling verbena. In the imp, I think, "Ah! A woodsy verbena!", on my skin I think "POW! Verbena and mahogany!", on fade-out I think, "Mmm, dramatic white tea and a hint of verbena". Imagine my confusion when I finally looked up the notes and saw no verbena. I have to re-read them a couple of times to believe it. So, in the bottle and also in wet stage, this is slippery, woodsy, and the white tea is very obvious. It this had a color, it would be golden with some green, burning a little darkly. The white tea stands out more on my skin, and I'm tickled, because this is the white tea I've wanted; every other blend I've tried with white tea have been whispy-light, perfumey, and frankly, boring. This is a ballsy white tea. I found myself slathering and sniffing unconsciously. I love how the deeper I snuffed, I could unearth the woods, yet at sniff it's white tea and orange blossom. Lovely depth. At the end of the day, I decided this wasn't for me particularly (just not my kinda thing), but I'm impressed with the play of notes and will break out my imp from time to time. ETA: February 4, 2008... I revisited this imp and found a whole new something wonderful! It's now a sweet and resinous orange blossom white tea, with just about the prettiest and lightest vetiver ever. I can't believe I thought it was blasts of verbena 5 months ago. I have slathered this all morning and cannot quit huffing my wrists. I love this, and hence force need a whole bottle. What a little aging will do!

Orpheus is supery-dupery green, sharp, clean, and a little herbal. I love lavender, and I think that combined with the green stems provides a soothing quality in this. It's relatively strong right away, and generally masculine, although I try to avoid using gender adjectives. More flowers blossom up here and there as it wears on, but it's very green, almost vegetative florals. I like Orpheus, even though it's not something I want to wear. I can't pinpoint it; maybe it's just too green for me (I didn't know that would ever happen ). Still, pleasantly unique, as I don't think I've sniffed a BPAL similar to this one before.

I'm not sure yet, but October could be my favorite from my Halloween order, as I like it a little more and little more each time I test it. To compare, whereas I feel Death of Autumn is fall in a sort of moist, temperature-neutral setting, October strikes me as cool and rather dry. October is like a chilly camp site with thin gray branches scattered about. It truly smells of dried leaves. This is already promising in the bottle, and then surefire on my skin. I smell woodsy mystique, akin to... well, I'm very bad at naming varieties of trees. This is hard to explain, but I actually get a "lake-y" quality from this; NOT that it's aquatic at all, but that "cold autumn air", I swear, seems to be rolling from a clear, still lake by the woods. As far as ingredient notes? Oh, it's hard. The first time I wore it, although it seemed to change considerably the second time, I got this memory flashe of Luperci '06, with a bit of patchouli, plants, and balsam, plus the "sap" note was a little similar to the beeswax in Luperci. This ends up being what I had hoped for and more- the extra treat is that the fade-out is the best part, the sap sweetening and that primitive patchouli-esque note swirling around. This is authentic-smelling, cool and crisp, down-to-earth and humanistic. I might have to snag another bottle before time's up.

Death of Autumn is an example of my amp-tastic skin throwing two main components in my face and not allowing for any other morphing to happen. In the bottle itself I perceive this as thickly resinous; sticky, and somehow "muddy", but without a dirt note. There's something familiar here- maybe the galangal? I"m not sure. I can't see any hint of clove or saffron right now. This is a deep, dank autumn night, like further into autumn, before winter's cloak. After reading other reviews saying khus is something like a sophisticated vetiver, this blend makes more sense to me. That is vetiver that I'm smelling! And I do love vetiver, even though it rip-roars all over my skin. DofA is no exception. The khus is overwhelming initially, nearly to the point of single-note strength. This wears on this stage for QUITE a long time, but eventually amber starts to spread out and match khus's strength. It's a murker, sticky amber, but not sweet. This is sort of like the dark amber in The Emathides. ...Sadly, I start to get bored with the khus and amber show no signs of yeilding. I want to whiff the clove, saffron, and chrysanthemum! This isn't a bad blend, by no means, but I don't get the chance to see the complexity it had the potential of containing. I won't purchase any more than what I have.

Dear Lucretia! You re-awaken the violet lover within me. For whatever reason, I withheld all preconceived notions before diving into this oil. Something about the list of notes left me a big question mark, so I expected and hoped nothing in particular, even though interestingly violet is one of my top favorite notes, the "mandarin" scared me a tiny bit, and traditional "vanilla" is the horrible kiss of death for me- even though I'm not sure what vanilla MUSK has to offer. That being said, by no means simplifying this work of art, I can still comfortably call Lucretia a "(glorious) violet blend". On me, anyhow. Violet soars on me usually and Lucretia was a happy surprise. Out of the bottle it's a mysterious floral, edging toward herbaceous or woodsy (sage/kashmir wood), with a backdrop of dusty amber. Not sticky, glowing amber, but almost resinous amber. The vanilla musk, much to my relief, is there to act as milky veil to smooth out to possible rowdy notes. The mandarin is so nuanced on my skin, I couldn't even tell you it was there. The end result is a musky, smoky violet, a dark one, feminine and a little sad.. a sort of "end" scent. Maybe a little off-kilter, a little twisted like poor Lucretia's facial expression. Average throw, but up close this is very prominent and towards the "heavy" side, just like a like my florals. This is my second favorite violet oil I've found so far (heh... only after the masterful punch of mint-eucalyptus-violet in Ultraviolet) and I've done my fair share of violet-scouting through the general catalogue. A bottle in my future!

Ah, another complex Salon blend that took some extra time to consider. Before hitting my skin, this imp smells just so slightly sour, like tangy aquatics; somewhat akin to that tang of rotting wood in Hurricane. There's also the promise of sweet woods. Still, everything is seamless so far and the only notes I can begin to name specifically are the labdanum and the "aquatic notes". I don't detect rose or even any juniper yet. Well, this changes fast on my skin. Mmmm. Soft, no longer really tangy, but resinous now. Resins, and juniper... just a hint of sandalwood, maybe? Yeesh. This is so hard to describe. It's mostly a "blue-green" scent to me, almost giving a swampy feeling. After a while, the black rose warms through more prominently, and stays on as a woody, resinous, dark and damp rose. Ooooh... Another testing compelled me to add that for some reason, I want to think of this as Rose Moon's evil, swampy step-sister. Rose is the ending note in this blend for me, probably because my skin amps rose always. I don't know, there's just something "lunar oil" to me in The Isle of the Dead. Very pretty and unique.

Unfortunately, I have to give The Fox-Woman a short review. This was a "classic Asian" scent, stereotypically so, but in a disappointing lack-of-dimensions kind of way. It's crisp, clean; white tea mostly, with equal parts cherry blossom and star jasmine. The teak is haaaaaardly there, maybe just enough to keep the airy components from floating away. My chemistry agrees with jasmine, so it stayed well-behaved. This summed up as an almost-single note of white tea and cherry blossom in the end; both of which I'm not terribly excited over. Faint, a little astringent and perfumey, and mostly short-lived. Ah, well. Getting the whole Salon imp-pack, there is bound to be a few I'm not fond of!

Red wine, gurjum balsam, dark myrrh, honey, cassia, lemongrass, palmarosa, elemi, cognac and olibanum. Initially, given the list of ingredients, I couldn't decide what to expect, nor did I completely comprehend the painting. I just sort of dove in head-first. The imp wafts of cassia right away, and just a hint of wine, and a good plop of honey. All together it smells pretty straight-forwardly of sweet booze. Right away when I apply my first thought is, "oh god, this is going to be hard to review". And my second thought is, "oh wow... what is that?". It's regal-smelling. Golden, red... um, tall shining walls, gold-plated staircases, mural-sized Romantic period paintings. Well, this is the first stage. Within 10 minutes, this explodes on me like a firecracker, literally. The cassia burns but I'm holding through, dammit! This is smoldering in scent... suddenly heavy and spicy. Specifically, heavy honey, wine, and fire. I don't know what in the list of components produces "fire", but is is there, for sure. *Later on I researched the painting and understood the story better; basically, everyone in this painting was commanded to burn to death in order to escape a mob capture. I neary got the chills reading this because, seriously, it smells like a rich, boozy party that was set aflame. Wildly evocative and well-done. Unfortunately, I must retire this imp to wildly evocative sniffing only, because the cassia gave me a pretty wicked rash (and I've been able to do cassia before!).

Death of the Grave Digger is really a unique little work of oil. From the imp alone, I immediately think, "WOW. That is straight-in-the-woods realism". It's hard to stress that. It literally smells like (1) snow (2) dirt (3) forest. Straight-forward. I can't help but daydream about my apartment wafting of this. Moving on... on my skin, something new blossoms. It's sweet myrrh and opoponax, coloring the blend together. It's nearly a berry-like, herbaceous/resin sweetness. Very graceful, and very... festive? Yes, festive. The longer I spend sniffing, my mind wanders to Christmastime in downtown Kansas City, taking a sleigh ride with holly dangling around. That's the single image I can't earse- holly. Time only cements this image. Why does this remind me of boughs of holly so much?! It's a little distracting. Well, nonetheless, this is a very pretty and regal blend. I came off first very excited, but ended up quietly wishing it sort of stayed like it was in the very beginning, before the whole, y'know, " HO HO HO boughs of holly" part. This is the only reason I wouldn't splurge for a whole bottle... but if I ever make that stride to burning oils for atmosphere, I will keep this one in mind.

I must say, Cloister Graveyard in the Snow was love at first whiff. Everytime I smell it, I feel like singing. To open the imp, is to feel a wintery gust of cold air and ozone, with mint and sweetness on the breeze. It's creamy, and somehow a little malicious feeling. It almost makes my mouth water. On my skin, it's an even better story. I CAN'T PEEL MY NOSE OFF MY ARM. Smooth, luscious white musks and mint, and just the right touch of frankincense. In fact- this is frankincense like I've never imagined it. It's sparkling, kind of tinkling, not heavy or "churchy". And there's that "cold stone" note that is rare but always an immense treat in oil blends. I can SEE the gravemarkers peering over mounds of just-fallen snow. Sniff. SNIFF. HUFFFFFFFFF. Oh. This is a pitch-perfect hybrid of my beloveds, Snow-Flakes and Kumari Kandam (okay; if you subtract any floral notes from Snow Flakes, and turn that slightly-aquatic ozone from Kumari into a pure-snow-gust ozone). Perfect throw, stays true. Only the frankincense wears a little longer than any other note. I hardly want to review the rest of the Salon I, and just want to wear this every day. I always knew I would love this. What took me so long?

For whatever reason, I had a hard time reviewing Caceri d'Invenzione. Now that I'm here and reading other reviews, I see I didn't comprehend the blend much like some people. Initially this makes me think of Kathmandu, minus the saffron and lotus (even though I think the redwood adds some kind of saffron-esque quality). Redwood and sandalwood are definitely dominant. Frankincense gives off the incense feel, of course. Pretty solid, relatively loud (at first), and pretty simple. This opens up as so very, very spicy on my skin... and very RED. Like, glowing red. I picture immaculate, polished wooden incense boxes. Even with a hint of tobacco smoke. I don't exactally match the Salon art to the scent. The print appears cold, stony, and dusty. This oil screams nothing but WOOD to me. Pipes and fireplaces, ancient libraries. I did a modest bit of research in hopes of understanding, and found of that Carceri d'Invenzione is a series of prints translated as "Imaginary Prisons". The other prints look even more labyrinth-like than this plate. I can't fit the art with the scent! Well anyhow, this hangup aside, this is a decent glowing red woods scent, but on me I guess it falls sort of flat, plus it's a fast fader. Not the shimmering complexity I'm looking for in Salon blends. It seems like other people love it, though!

Oh, Bat-Woman. This was a sleeper hit on me, and I was a little dismissive in the early stages until I wore it a couple of separate times. Generally, I like florals a whole lot; but it takes a certain mystique for a floral to stand out above others to me. Sniffing the imp, this is a chilly, light, whitish-gray floral to me. Light and very clean, nearly soapy. I distinctly pick out lavender, calla lily, and perhaps the moonflower. This is a flowerbed at twilight. Slathering this on, lavender jumps out first. Jasmine is adding just enough of that characteristically sour floral note without dominating. I'm impressed by the use of grey amber and verbena; gone are my assumptions that anything with verbena is going to be a citrussy mess. In fact, I wouldn't know the amber and verbena were even in there without reading the ingedients. These notes create the illusion of that smeared, steel-colored landscape. Instead of quieting down and slipping away, this gets lovelier on my skin over time. There's delicious throw, and the honeysuckle is just perfect. Add a bottle to my wishlist!

This is my first Salon blend review, and I've decided to skip out on reading other reviews until mine is fully prepared. So now I'm surprised to read these and see words like "brooding" and "masculine" for this blend. Initially this is a seamless meld of resins. It's hard to tell whether myrrh, amber, or frankincense is the most dominant. There's the perfect amount of cypress and saffron for spiciness; just enough to keep the incense from getting too heavy. On my skin, this stays close and is soft. I do echo other people in saying there is a "perfumey" quality... I just can't pinpoint what or why, exactly. Later on, I notice instead of fading, the perfume warms and grows. I thought this would stay mute but it's become glowing, kind of like the color amber itself. Honey is the shining note now, and is the last lingering thing I smell hours later. I'm not usually fond of honey notes, but this is a rich and sophisticated honey. This blend is very smooth and warm. It's not entirely something I'd dig enough for a bottle, but evocative nonetheless.

When I first opened my bottle of Privilege, my first thought was, "Wow, this is... womanly". This is a celebrity's commercial designer perfume... well, I mean, more exquisite, because Beth made it. I'm having a confusing back-and-forth, because this simultaneously reminds me of scents both my mother AND father wore as I was growing up (father = oakmoss). Oakmoss is the first thing that's really recognizable, out of the bottle. Anything after that is a light touch of citrus and just a hint of floral. On my skin... phew, this is light. The oakmoss chills out and I can now catch whiffs of tuberose and rose absolute. Further down the road this only gets prettier, the oakmoss lifting and different florals showing. This ends on a vanilla note with a swirl of citrus. I must admit, this is my very first BPAL blend with vanilla that I actually like,,, vanilla is a death note to me (I know, weird) and I didn't expect to like this one a whole lot (purchased based on charity and novelty, yes), and I am extremely surprised. I... really, really, like it! I wish I could illustrate similarities between the perpetrator and the perfume, but you know, I don't find this oil empty and callow at all. Just lovely.

With Rome, each note is apparent: first cypress, then middled with herbal chamomile, then rose, and a small zip of juniper. There's something very classic and cozy about this... I can't help but picture a tall, darkly upholstered armchair, a dim room, an old radio and a fireplace. I think this is because chamomile has always given me that warm and fuzzy cup of tea feeling. After some time the cypress and juniper drop into the background and chamomile and rose stand out, very much so. This teeters on that odd "burning hair" smell that some roses give me, and the chamomile seems to add fuel to the fire. I'm undecided about this one. I think it's a good SMELL, like something I'd love a room smell like, but I don't think I like what it does on my skin. Oh, well.