Lucchesa

I wanted to try this because A. I love bergamot and B. I love the name. It makes me think of Romaine Brooks's portrait Peter, A Young English Girl. I managed to snag a quarter decant in a swap, and of course I love it. On me it was not too cologney. Unisex, yes; strongly masculine, no. The bergamot is fairly subdued -- it doesn't shout "Earl Grey Tea!" at you -- and the patchouli is rich and smooth. The orris I think serves to soften everything, maybe taking away that cologney edge, and frankly I seem to be anosmic to the Lab's pink pepper note. But the whole thing is quite elegant and upper crust but with a softness, like a young woman in white tie and tails. I like.

This is a rich, full-bodied honey, and wet on my skin it's HONEY-honey-honey-cassia. As it dries down the cassia becomes more of an equal partner, so it's HONEY-honey-CASSIA for quite a while, as this has unusually good throw on me, and eventually it mellows down to honey-cassia. But the cassia is more subdued than the cinnamon in Chimera (which I also love). It does not burn my skin the way Inferno does, and it does not recall cinnamon chewing gum or any kind of artificial cinnamon scent. Instead, the cassia contributes a lovely, dry, spicy warmth to the deep, rich honey. I find I often prefer a scent with two or three ingredients to one with twelve or thirteen, and I'm so pleased to have a bottle of this.

Wulric was not a big leap of faith for me -- I love the Lab's blends that combine cocoa with woody notes, like Velvet or Gelt-Smeared Dreidel. Add vanilla, bourbon vetiver and cardamom, and I'm all in. And the Wolfman does not disappoint. Lavender never lasts on my skin, so it's only present for me in the opening. I was a bit worried about the birch tar, as the poplar tar in Oil and Pitch took over on me, but it is not at all harsh, nor is the vetiver; it all settles down fairly quickly into a lovely woody musky cocoa scent. I'm not sure I'm getting much cardamom, but that's all right, it is fine without it (though, in general, more cardamom is always better). This is cozy and keeping its mean streak well hidden. No throw, average wear length on me.

Ulalume is kind of an oddball. I love lilies and hate aquatics, so I wasn't sure which way this would fall. Wet, it is strong -- white lilies, forest and something minty. I knew there was no mint in the notes, so it's gratifying that other reviewers have identified a minty sensation as well; it might also be what they mean when they say it is wintry or snow-like. An hour in, the lilies have faded to the background, behind the cypress and oak and whatever is the minty note. Not my usual sort of scent, but it's very interesting and I'm pleased I had the chance to try it.

Spooky Action at a Distance is all rose on me at first. The sandalwood and frankincense remain in the background for me; this is predominantly a rose blend at first, and then a predominantly rose geranium blend on drydown. This is dry and not sweet on me; the elemi may be contributing to the peppery feel of the geranium. I never get violet. The drydown is very pretty; the woods begin to share space with the rose and rose geranium. Nice, but I don't need more than my decant.

Wet on my wrist the Goddess of Mischief is a strong, realistic lavender. I love lavender but my skin tends to eat it right up, and that happens here as well. I was not sure what to expect of green oudh, and I'm not sure I can really distinguish that note. So once the lavender evaporates, after about an hour, I'm left with amber and musk, and if that's what I want I can just wear Haunted. I may try this in a scent locket to see if I can experience all the notes together.

Red musk and I have a problematic relationship. I like her, really I do, but does it have to be all about her, all the time? In the imp, I smell red musk, no surprise, but also the amber and dragon's blood and, shockingly, the black pepper. I am usually anosmic to the Lab's pepper notes. But as soon as it hits my skin, the red musk gets louder and louder until it's drowning out everyone else. Seriously, red musk, could you just shut up once in a while? It takes about an hour for the red musk to calm down enough to let the other notes join the conversation. The pepper has stuck around throughout, but the dragon's blood and amber reemerge. (The oudh seems to have left the room entirely, though.) Dragon's blood can be almost cloying on me, but I get only the tiniest whiff of sweetness in this blend. I really like it at this stage, but I don't think I need more than one imp.

Oil and Pitch is an extremely apt name for this blend. I'm not getting any sweetness from it at all, just a lot of woody resin with a machine oil vibe. The poplar tar seems to have overwhelmed the amber and everything else. Dark and deep and interesting, but I think I would need some of the syrupy sweetness of the opoponax to emerge before this could be truly wearable for me. Perfect for cosplaying a steampunk villain with extravagantly curled and waxed mustaches.

I guess I never reviewed Dragon's Milk! It's a favorite of mine; I put some on today when I was having a difficult moment, and it made me feel much better. It's a kissing cousin of O, with dragon's blood instead of amber, and like O, it ages marvelously. In the imp, Dragon's Milk is a gorgeously reddish orange color but smells almost cloying. On my skin it settles down quickly, and a slight spiciness emerges to balance the honey vanilla. Yummy! It does not morph a lot on me, which is good because it hits the just right note almost immediately, and it lasts a long time.

Lavender! That was the only note I could identify when I applied this. And it's a nice lavender, not one of the screechy ones. Lavender rarely lasts very long on my skin, though, and within 20 minutes or so the other notes were beginning to crowd in. The lavender, sandalwood and tobacco combination could have been dry and sharp but instead is subtle and a little smoky, and the whole lavender/tobacco/woody incense thing is really pretty. Like most oils, this is a skin scent on me and my skin eats it up fairly quickly.

Received DWoaDF as a swap frimp - it is not the sort of thing I would ever have chosen for myself. But I had to try it regardless. Wikipedia informs me that elemi has a sharp pine and lemon-like scent, which is probably why it goes on like Pine-Sol, and the eucalyptus only adds to the medicinal cleanser vibe. Nothing feminine about this one. I resisted the urge to scrub it off and gradually it got darker and sweeter as the opoponax emerged and the sharp notes of elemi and eucalyptus faded away. So it's much more wearable, in my book, after 30 minutes or more. Still not something I would reach for, but I'm always curious to try the more out there creations. I think this might go better on a man than it does on me.

Oleander Honey is making me sad that the apiary has been discontinued. It's really lovely on me. It's a very pale oil, and not nearly as heady on me as some of the other apiary blends, and not perishingly sweet, I think because the slight sharpness of oleander keeps the dulcet qualities of the honey in check. It is perfectly balanced between floral and honey, and on me has no throw but good staying power, making it a perfect blend for work. This strikes me as a spring/summer daytime blend, but I loved it on this bright winter day, too.

And no one has reviewed this for seven years? Amazing! Aquatics invariably smell like laundry detergent on me. This does not fall into that category at all. It is definitely a skin scent, and the nectarine is the most identifiable note. Skin musk always just smells like skin ought to smell but rarely does; it doesn't have a distinctive smell of its own. And oakmoss is kind of fuzzy and earthy on me. It is a lovely combination, and despite the octopuses in the name, I don't get seaweed or salt spray or anything aquatic at all. Do you work in a scent-free environment but still crave your BPAL? This would be a perfect scent for that situation. A quiet beauty, but you could lift your wrist to your nose and breathe in Beth's brilliance.

Apple is not my favorite note, but cardamom is, so I had to try this one. It may be the most beautiful BPAL fresh apple scent I have tried (baked apple works better on my skin). At first it is all apple and pale honey; the cardamom and blackcurrant are definitely background notes on me. I do wish I got more distinct cardamom out of this, but it is very pleasant. The notes might suggest late summer/fall, but it seems more like a spring/summer daytime scent on me, no throw at all and very appropriate for work or any social situation.

Some of my favorite BPALs have only a couple of notes. Add this one to the list. Yes, the frankincense predominates, a woody, resiny frank. And it would probably be gorgeous as a single note, but there is that bourbon vanilla that emerges more and more the longer this resides on my skin, adding a trace of boozy vanilla sweetness. And just a trace. This is not a foody vanilla or a syrupy bourbon; you're not going to get pulled out of your car on suspicion of DUI if you're wearing this. The overall tone of Hope and Fear on me is dry, not juicy. Dry and rich and complex and gorgeous, and the throw and staying power are not bad. Beautiful!

Bub is surprisingly foodie on me. It's snuggly and spicy, not soapy at all, and I'm not getting a lot of meadow smell either. Once it has completely dried down, the scent it reminds me most of, weirdly, is Ooky, after the almond has evaporated. I've always had very food-motivated dogs in my life, so maybe if your dogs have been indifferent to food and just want to chase a ball in a field all day it might smell different on you? Anyway, I love Ooky so it's very nice, just not what I was expecting.

Mmm, Velvet is gorgeous on me. It's a deep dark cocoa (the Lab's milk chocolate note goes sadly off on me) sweetened with vanilla. The dry sandalwood keeps it from being foodie, and the myrrh adds this beautiful dark depth that had me huffing my wrist almost constantly the day I tried this. It would have been an instant bottle purchase except that it is quite similar on me to Gelt-Smeared Dreidel, which I have a bottle of (cedar instead of sandalwood, amber instead of myrrh), so when that one is about halfway gone I will buy a bottle of Velvet and start aging it. So good!

I was trying this on my right wrist with De Vos' Unicorn on my left, and compared to DVU, Kitty is lower pitched, an adult contralto instead of a girlish soprano. I love it. I had a strawberry fail recently with Diligent Instruction for the Bridal Night, but the strawberries here are a little more tart (bergamot? I didn't make out the bergamot otherwise) and just gorgeous with the vanilla and sandalwood and what I would say is a darker honey, not a pale one. It lasted quite a while on me, with low throw (which is average for me). Did I mention I love it?

I totally understand why De Vos' Unicorn is so beloved. It's gorgeous, sweet and fluffy, rainbows and kittens, and manages the neat trick of seeming ethereal while lasting a good long time even on my sponge-like skin. But it's not me. I may keep my decant for when I am in a pale pink sort of mood, but I can't imagine using up a bottle.

2017 version Wet, this is all honey and peach and cocoa and yum. And yet having said that, it's not gourmand on me -- the yum is simply an expression of contented delight. The neroli helps keep it from going too sweet. I didn't smell a lot of overt patchouli or ambergris, so if either of those notes scares you, you're probably safe here; I think they just contribute warmth and grounding. Totally lovely but no throw and low wear length on my admittedly parched skin.

2017 version Wet, this is all rose and coconut, and as tinyvulture says, it's a novel combination and very lovely. As it dried down the lily became apparent but stayed soft, I think under the influence of skin musk and tonka. I never really smelled the sage, but maybe it was a grounding note, keeping the white florals from going all high-pitched. If you like rose and like coconut, it's one of those two great things that taste great together experiences.

The Library of John Dee is absolutely beautiful, the library scent I have been searching for. Some candlewax, gentle leather, incense, ancient paper, and a hint of papery dried rose petals, a lovely evocative combination, each note (ok, not so sure about styrax or onycha, but the others) perceptible, all quietly sounding in ensemble. And then my stupid middle-aged skin eats it up way too fast until all that is left is a dusty trace of rose. I will try slathering it because it is just that good and see if it lasts longer, but damn you, skin!

I recently got a decant of Jolabokaflod and wish I had been a BPALer last year because I would have gotten a bottle and a book and helped a good organization. I am still looking for the perfect library scent, though. Jolabokaflod comes close -- gentle leather, candles and old paper are all remarkably realistic. Unfortunately the chocolate note is very similar to the one in Bliss that goes odd on my skin, smelling like stale Hershey's. If the Lab's milk chocolate note works for you and you are in search of a bibliophile scent, this one might be just your style.

There's still a waitlist button posted, so I think you're safe. When it disappears from the site entirely, then it's gone. Make sure you sign into your account and get on the waitlist -- I got an email recently from the Lab telling me that Jareth was back in stock after being OOS for ages, so it does work!

I got a Mata Hari frimp from the Lab today and realized I had never reviewed it, so I gave it another shot. Yep, Mata Hari is still weird and awful on me. Even though there are jasmine blends I love, I'm coming to the conclusion that jasmine is often a disaster on my skin. In the imp it's sultry and dark, like something a damaged Philip Marlowe heroine might wear, but on my skin there's something about the combination of jasmine and coffee and rose that goes dramatically wrong. So sad as I can see how it would be so beautiful on others... ETA I had to wash it off then douse myself in Irish Coffee Buttercream to counteract the coffee oddness.