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BPAL Madness!

Casablanca

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Posts posted by Casablanca


  1. Dominant frankincense, with white musk and white leather coming up behind it, backed by some smooth vanilla. This is sweet and creamy, with very little graininess from the frankincense, despite its prominence. I think I also smell an unlisted sandalwood.

     

    More than an hour later, sweet vanilla musk is strongest.

    Nicely balanced and evocative. I'm much more drawn to this than I ever was to playing a paladin. ;)


  2. A clean, lightly green, white floral aquatic. I seem to smell a lightly sweet cucumber, and maybe gardenia, lilies, or lily of the valley, or some combo of those... After a while, I find mostly white musk. Surprisingly, this doesn't turn to soap on me.

    The scent smells like clear water, and white and pale green colors. It makes me think a little of both Windward Passage and Squirting Cucumber. Once it's dried on me, it smells like a spa, but sweeter.


  3. Clove cigarettes! Wheee!

    And pine resin. And is that teak coming out after drydown? I really need a teakwood single note -- need it. Love it.

    I'll forever associate clove cigarette smells with going to haunted houses, so I guess that makes this more or less seasonal.

  4. Mage


    Sickeningly sweet balsam, gingery galangal, and... other things I'm not teasing apart.

     

    The cloying sweetness comes and goes, and a spiciness comes in after drydown.

    I think I'm not a fan.


  5. Mainly a gingery galangal and frankincense, with cedar and sandalwood in support. Once it settles on me, Magus is a grainy frankincense and sandalwood of parched dryness, with a breeze of dusty cedar.

    This is OK, but it has the comparatively shallow or hollow smell of many of BPAL's general catalog blends compared with their limited edition ones. It also goes oddly dusty on me.


  6. Rosewood and a soft turmeric. After a minute, I smell the benzoin and oud. Later still, a hint of red currant. The benzoin and olibanum smell strongest to me eventually.

    Woody, resinous, just a little sweet. This makes me think of a glossy floor and shelves of some red wood -- not the varnish or chemicals, just the idea of polished wood -- with cream-colored walls. It smells like a well-appointed library not yet populated with books.


  7. Steampunk. A cologne drifts out from a gear-and-steam machine with wood and the lab's red metallic-smelling copper note, and a pleasant sense of black engine oil. The cologne's sillage settles quickly and the engine oil mingles with it. The oil gives the cologne some appeal -- it smells like a dull department store cologne on its own.

    Unfortunately the department store cologne smell is making this less than ideal, but I like the rest of it.


  8. Freshly applied, this is the custardy vanilla of the lab's French Vanilla Single Note blended with a thick cream, soft saffron, and, weirdly, just a little carbonation and sassafras? To my nose, at least, BPAL's French Vanilla SN is pretty but with a waxy tone I've run into in one of my own plain vanilla oils, and don't love. Love's Philosophy is like a vanilla candle's more sumptuous (and a touch presumptuous) next-door neighbor: creamy and lush and better-than-thou, yet somehow charming and excusable. I spilled some of this on my forearm once, and reveled in the cloud of cream.

    Love's Philosophy doesn't change after drydown on me, except to soften. I like it, even if it's not the absolute best vanilla ever.


  9. First, carnation and posies. And then, booze! Wine!

    How odd that it does smell woolly.

    After the flowers and booze, I smell the cider, and something weird that reminds me of mushrooms. I suppose that's the treacle, and I guess I can get a sort of molasses tone there -- but it also smells somehow fungal. Or something does.

    I'm not into booze notes that actually smell boozy. Mushrooms aren't a love. But it's been fun picking out the posies.

    Pass.


  10. This reminds me of Allegory of Chastity in its creamy pinkness, though it's different in other ways. I can pick out its sandalwood and star jasmine. Pink roses seem to build the impression of pink in Vasilissa's musk. Pink is Vasilissa and Vasilissa is pink. This might be the pinkest thing I've ever smelled that still smells good.

    After an hour, though, girlfriend turns to pretty pink soap. Bummer.


  11. Wet on my skin, Libra is a polished, pale strawberry-rose musk. On the exhale I realize I'm sitting with mallow still in my nose. I didn't notice it on the inhale, but I smell it first on the next inhale. Gods, I love the lab's mallow. It's so fluffyyyy! The vanilla note melts right into it.

    The other notes are well-blended and I wouldn't have found them without the list, but with the list I can pick out the incense. I don't find the others individually. They're just an accord of sweet sophistication.

    Two hours later, it's almost the same as when it was applied. This is rare on my scent-eating skin... unicorn-rare.

    A gorgeous blend. I am, with almost pleasant angst, considering a back-up bottle.


  12. As soon as I apply this, I smell a white floral cloud around me. Sniffing my arm, I find Languor to be mostly lilies, and the other flowers blend behind them. I don't mind this, but I'm expecting it to become soap on me soon.

    After an hour, Languor has a light soapy quality, but hasn't gone full soap. (Which kinda makes it like that series from the 70s, Soap.) Otherwise, it's the same as it was when applied.


  13. I can smell the neroli from this before I even get close to sniffing the test site on my arm. Freshly applied, and up close, Desire intrigues. I barely catch any patchouli in the early stage, and the dominant neroli is well complemented by the apple and black musk. Then I realize I can smell a mix of the bergamot, rose, and vanilla as well. And even teak, when I hunt for it. I love teak.

    But... after an hour or so, Desire's interesting structure kind of bottoms out: I just smell a quiet, hollow vanilla rose musk.


  14. In the bottle, Unicorn and Ram is cardamom and woolly musk.

    On my skin, it's soft cardamom, a cozy musk, and... well, really, I can smell everything in the notes list. The leather and soft fabric smell are so soft and bundly together that I just want to walk out of work, drive home, and roll up in a blanket for the rest of the day.

    This blend stays as close to the skin as pajamas. After an hour, my skin has eaten most of it. All that remains is a hint of warm musk.


  15. On the wand, this smells lily of the valley-dominant to me, with violet and myrrh.

    On me, though, violet seems the stronger flower against a background of lily of the valley, myrrh, juniper, and cypress. There is just a little bitterness to this, as the notes say, but I can't tell where it's coming from. I smell more lily of the valley as this dries.

    Later, this turns to violet soap.

    Not my thing.


  16. In the bottle, I smell incense, a little wood, and a little something girlish and red -- rosy and a bit fruity.

    Freshly applied, well, this is nostalgic. Incense drifts like fog through the woods. After a few seconds, a fruity-toned rose blooms on my skin, but stays among the trees and in balance. A minute passes, and I start to think of Temple Viper -- the champaca. Champaca incense, oak, oak leaves, and rose.

    For my tastes, this is intoxicating. It does, though, stay close to the skin. After drydown, I don't know it's there unless I put nose almost to skin.

     

    I have a feeling this won't live very long on my skin, but it's lovely.


  17. Freshly applied: Hey, sassafras! It's funny to think this root beer note could come from the sassafras tree in my yard, the one that the black Eastern swallowtails swarm over. Maybe butterflies like root beer?

    This is very nearly a fizzy root beer single note on me at first. I think I'm getting a little flower in the background.

    Over time, I start to smell the nutmeg and a little myrrh. They seem to grow right out of the root beer, as if they were a part of it.

    Laudanum is intriguing (I like the nutmeg note in root beer), but since I have Tombstone and (soon) Outlaw, I don't feel I need a bottle of this one.


  18. Freshly applied: Curious. Mostly, I think I smell the opium note from Caterpillar and Forest Reverie. But there's something red and flowery and a little spicy behind it. I think that's our lurking poppy.

    I'm not into the opium note, but at first I like what I think is the poppy. Then, over time, the blend turns powdery. I'm not sure if it's the poppy, opium, or something else.


  19. Freshly applied, Belladonna's dark, sappy green smell at first reminds me of hemlock, and of conifers generally, which I wasn't expecting from its description. I figured it would smell deciduous and floral with maybe some earth. But it smells like when I trim the evergreen cover bushes in front of my house -- that intensely green-smelling, sticky, sappy stuff they put out when cut.

    Belladonna doesn't change much on me, moving from a sharp evergreen to a softer one over time. It smells wintery. I like it, but I have other forest and evergreen blends.


  20. I recently tried Nutella for the first time, so this seemed a good pick. But often when chocolate appears in a notes list, it turns most of the blend into chocolate. I'm not expecting something different here, and I don't need another chocolate-dominant scent, so I almost didn't get this. But I love hazelnut and tonka and pine. So I hope...

    In the bottle, Joy smells like Nutella pine.

    Freshly applied: Nice. The black pine sits right up front with the hazelnut and tonka. I'm pleased to find that the chocolate hangs out almost to the side. This mix is really good, at least on my skin. It doesn't smell like the Nutella single note I thought it might be.

    The blend smells... like its photo, but less dirty and wood chippy.

    The drydown is mainly hazelnut tonka, fading to a hazelnut tonka skin scent, and then just... tonka. It doesn't last long in glory mode, but mmm.

    It's one to reapply sometimes, but I'm glad I chanced the bottle.


  21. Tombstone is the general catalogversion of Outlaw, a limited edition scent out at the moment. It's not the same, but it's similar. Less gourmand, more rustic.

    Wet on my skin, Tombstone is fizzy vanilla root beer on a balsamic cedar background. Outlaw has more of a cream tone that drifts it into root beer float land. Tombstone is more like vanilla-flavored root beer (no vanilla ice cream) and red wood. It's like drinking a cool root beer in a wood shop.

    The fizziness mellows out from its initial crispness within a few minutes, but stays in play. The blend lasts at least a few hours on me. A good scent.


  22. When I tested this without knowing its notes, I got a caramel-toned rum, leather, and something that reminded me of tobacco, but that didn't seem right. Now I think that something might be the mix of gunpowder, patch, and sarsaparilla -- there's a rugged earthiness to Mary Read that I can't otherwise pin.

    I didn't know who Mary Read was before trying this on, but I still thought "Pirate."

    Seeing the notes now, I catch a light spray of the sea in the blend, too. Rum and patch can put me off, but this is very well-blended, and they don't do so here.

    This better evokes a sea life, for me, than the other female pirate blend, Anne Bonny -- but they are both very good.


  23. This is the Labores Solis: the sun’s rays expressed through frankincense, amber, heliotrope, saffron, and chamomile, crossed with Luna’s Artemisias, manifesting in darkness.

     

    I'm a sun worshiper. My favorite days of the year are ones like in this week, when it's warm and golden and lazy, and I get out to walk and feel like I can melt into sunshine, because that's where I'm home.

    Labores is lovely and, while I wasn't thinking of it when I picked it for today, it perfectly fits this time of year. It smells exactly like how I feel when I get out of the office for a short walk, and tune all my senses into the drying grasses and green reeds rustling in the sun and slow breeze.

    I smell heliotrope and amber sweetening chamomile's sunny, drying-meadow smell, and the softened grainy texture of saffron and frankincense.

    Unlike The Sportive Sun, Labores Solis has aged well. It's all very well blended -- I'm surprised to pick out heliotrope most strongly on me, but amber and chamomile are close seconds, and everything else is there, too.

    I'm glad I got this. On the down side, it lasts less than two hours on me.

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