bookandbroom

Aquarius and Old Moon Sorry for the poor quality..I'm just learning this camera. Thank you! That's perfect.

Can someone post pix of Old Moon's label? Purty please?

Frostbite with Snow Bunny was like magic for me the other day.

Stronger than expected, and growing on me. In the bottle, loads of sage and chamomile and mountains of dandelions. It smells like shifting seasons, like rolling down the hill at my grandparents' house as a child. On, there's immediately an unexpected butteriness, a creamy lushness that I didn't expect these notes to offer. I wanted to love this, and so I've pushed myself to it, but the scent, on, is doing the job, too. One streak across my inner arm and it keeps wafting up to me, a nostalgia, a suggestion, an image of the wildflower bouquets my best friend and I brought our fourth-grade teachers. I wouldn't be surprised to se a trillium in the backyard, with this scent floating around; it smells nothing like a trillium, but those perfect flowers are nonetheless the image that comes to mind. Sagittarius is golden and glowing and smells like honey-colored hair and afternoon sun, a hint of something musky, a fallen petal, a line of dust on the table. Finally, a hint of clove, an evening scent suggesting baking and kitchen warmth.

I love that something called Pollution smells so sunny to me. I too had to look up davana, and it made me smile when the site I found described its scent as "candy-like" and "round" because a. that's funny, and b. that's exactly what I thought: Pollution to me is a sort of ozone-y scent rounded and brightened (and softened) by mint and that sweet, somewhat floral note. The mint burns off too quickly on my skin, leaving a scent-image of greenness behind without actually smelling like mint. As it dries, the scent gets a little more pointed and sharp, and it seems to have something in common with a shampoo I can't think of right now. But its subtle, twinkling green notes make it a winner for me.

To me, this is strangely both cool and dusty, like mint tangled up with a hay harvest. It smells like the Fool to me, and like something else that I for some reason associate specifically with pennyroyal - though now that I'm thinking about it, I have absolutely no idea why this is. My head just says so. It's probably wrong, though! There's something a little fruity underneath that comes out as the oil dries, maybe a faint citrus? But that cool, up-the-nose minty note still dominates. I might be getting a hint of some other herbs - maybe rosemary? - in the background, but that might just be wishful thinking!

I wrestled with how to apply from the bottles for awhile ... I was dabbing with the cap, which is easy enough, but I wanted to go the "clean" testing route since I only love about 1 in 5 oils that I try and I know a lot of people really want pristine bottles. Q-tips didn't do it for me; they absorbed too much oil. Toothpicks didn't seem to pick up enough. I wanted to buy stirrer straws, but couldn't find them, only normal straws. And then I hit on it: I bought a box of regular straws (in fun colors) and cut them up into tiny applicator sticks. I cut each straw in half lengthwise, and then each half in half again, and then cut them into about 3" sticks - just long enough to reach into the bottles. Since they have a little curve, they pick up a good amount of oil - even too much, sometimes! I keep them in a little box near my bottle box and they work perfectly well - plus they hardly make any garbage. (Though the glass cocktail stirrers sound even better for that ...)

It's funny that edenssixthday mentions the cherry/almond mixup because I've definitely done that in my life - it took me forever to figure out that the cloying sent of the cheap hand soap I mistakenly bought wasn't cherry but almond. It's a weird one. But this is not almond. At first, in the vial, it has that same sticky-sweet thickness, like there's more sugar in it than physics could possibly allow for. It almost smelled like it burned, it was so edged and sweet. But on, things immediately calmed down - and went straight to cherry chapstick. No joke; there was a lot of sweet maraschino-cherriness, but with a wax underlay. Now, 20-30 minutes later, the scent has lost a lot of the wax, but it's still a glossy red cherry candy scent more than a true cherry. Like ice cream, though, with a richness that a lot of cherry sweets lack. It is quite strong, and it makes me think that while I don't really care for it that much, I might fall for the new Beaver Moon - which is trouble in the making! Three cheers to djnevermore for giving me the opportunity to try this one.

At first? SUGAR. Also, more sugar. Like I stuck my nose in a jar of the stuff. SU. GAR. But it's also fluffy and pink - a quality that Marshmallow Fluff obviously ought to have. I had my doubts, honestly. My boyfriend loves marshmallows, but I hadn't had good luck with super-sugar scents so far. AND THEN. Then, Marshmallow Poof turned into Marshmallow Hawaiian Punch. Yes, the bright red drink mix. For a few brilliant moments - and I mean brilliant in the rather olfactorily blinding way - it was RED. FRUIT. the same way it had been SU. GAR. before. I thought my arm would be sticky when it dried! But now, it's dry, and it's splitting the different between the two moments. And I smell like a Peep. It doesn't have much throw on me, and I didn't know I'd like to smell like a Peep, but it's cripsy tasty sweet, and I like it. The goblins know what they're doing, it seems. When the end of the stressful work-time I mentioned in my plea comes about, I will slather myself in this and go out dancing, and love every minute of it. (Another thought: To those who get lavender marshmallows from TKO? Take out the lavender, add a cup of sugar (to each ounce of oil, I mean, mentally) and you have something like this.)

The throw on this puppy is such that I could smell it before I'd finished getting the mailer open. It's a tough one to pin down. What it reminds me of is my grandmother's garden - a soft, fuzzy, edged citrus that smells like crushed lemon balm leaves; a floral I am almost certain is geranium (it smells a bit like the Mrs. Meyer's soap that has geranium, which is a scent that almost makes me inexplicably uncomfortable); and a note that puts me in mind of rose hips, though I have no idea if that's what it is. Like an old garden and a cup of sharp tea. Does it work? I'm not sure. I was having a terrible, PMS-y day, though, and by the time I'd read for an hour with a dab (only a dab and I could smell it intensely) of Bitch on my wrist, I didn't even mind that I needed to head off to book group and hadn't finished the damn book. I can't imagine ever needing a bottle of this, but the Panaceas are gold for me so far; TKO is love. So I think I'll trust that this does its job and hang on to my partial imp, which should last ages.

At first, Gibbous Moon was a swoon-worthy hyacinth with a tiny note of cucumber dancing in the background. But much as I love hyacinths, I don't really care for smelling like florals, and had been hoping for more from the cucumber and moss (which I detect faintly as a dark note around the edges). Now that it's dry, it's a sort of heady, sort of sharp floral, and all the notes have swirled themselves up together, wrapped in a cloak of what I suspect is lily or orris, since neither of those tend to work for me. Generally, for me it's a relatively gentle, sweet floral - something I'd wear to a wedding, maybe.

It involves notes you didn't mention as likes or dislikes, but Green Tree Viper is one of my absolute favorites - and I don't think I like Snake Oil either (though I've never tried it straight; I just haven't really agreed with any of the other snakes except the one that gave me a rash). To me, it's this clever, deep, gorgeous vanilla mint with a twist, without the sort of sticky-candy-plastic sweetness I get from Snowblind and, to a lesser degree, Toyko Stomp. There's bergamot, too, which I just love, and which gives the scent a slightly foody/herbal kick. But if you're not into mint it probably won't be your thing!

I bought this out of sheer amusement and didn't entirely expect to like it ... but I do! My feller thinks something in it "smells like the stalks of lettuce," and I kind of think he's right; there's a growing green under the florals that makes this scent ring like a bell. It is somewhat classically perfumey, but what amazes me most is how precisely it matches Beth's description, especially the words "eerily empty." It's a scent that floats around a hollow space; it's beautiful and rich, but somehow slight and wispy. It's all glamour, with nothing underneath. It's utterly perfect for what it is. And all that aside, there's something glitzy and flashy that makes it fun to wear. I don't generally wear florals, but this one makes me giggle somehow, and the non-floral notes (mmm, citrus!) turn the flowers on their heads. I may have to edit this review to make it make more sense ...

This began so beautifully - well, no, I lie: It began with a certain note of mens' shower gel that is always a warning scent for me. But then it shifted, quickly and gorgeously, and the spices began to warm up the crisp green notes, bringing everything together for something that was somehow both warm and cool. Then my wrists itched a little. But only a little. Not like cassia. By the time I got to work, I had sharp, prickly soap. I think shelldoo got Irish Spring in my head from when I was reading reviews when I put this one, but really: Irish Spring times 1000. It might smell really, really good on the right boy, but it makes me feel like I ought to get back in the shower!

I'm going to start nibbling on my arm. I didn't really expect to like this blend, as super-sweet foody/baked good scents don't always work for me. But this! It's really rather astonishing. In the bottle, it's juicy berries and a buttery, frosting-like note that gave me pause. But on, it smells like the breakfast you dream about waking up to, crumbling, studded with steaming hot-from-the-oven fruit (black currants, like in scones) and sweet but not too sweet. On my skin, it seems like I get a tiny bit of a tea note that makes Crumpet Rebellion even more morning-ish and also gives it a tiny hint of sharpness that keeps it from being sticky sweet on me. Now if you'll excuse me ... I need to find some breakfast.

In the vial, this was all sharpness and bright notes, with the grapefruit atop a pile of mint and petals. I almost put it on last night, but it was not a scent to wear to bed! On, it morphs like crazy: grapefruit! Mint! Something earthy and floral that smells like ... wait, does it? Yes, it smells like hay. I almost washed it off at that point, but a few morphers I tried last night (the waxy-chocolate-cherries of Centozin Whatever I Can't Spell It turned to strong, strong cloves) had taught me to wait. So I waited. Now, I get one of two things: Faintly but richly, I get that same luscious grapefruit that makes me love Cheshire Cat (I do like that this is a pretty mild one as far as throw). But sometimes, instead of grapefruit, I get a pale, sweet note that reminds me of little kids. Not baby powder, not anything chemical, but maybe a tiny bit no-tears shampoo. Something like that. It's fading fast, yet coming together with crystalline clarity. I love the way these florals, whatever they are, don't assert themselves, but play nice with the other notes. I do wonder if I'll ever be able to pick out the champagne.

I started to worry about Tokyo Stomp after I ordered it; I'd gotten a sniffie of Snowblind and despite my fervent hopes, it smelled chemical-ish and plasticky on me. This doesn't. In the bottle, MB:TS is incredibly sweet. Sugary syrup, like when I made simple syrup for mint juleps and put the mint in the pot too - but with a vanilla bean stirred in for good measure. I definitely get the mint-chocolate-chip ice cream whiff - this would be bright green, were it a color! Wet, it smelled much the same at first, though the super-sugaryness faded quickly. The vanilla and the mint were still wrestling for dominance, with the vanilla - a sweet and lovely vanilla - winning. But then out came the mint. Bright, crisp, wonderful. And then, gently, gradually, the two scents came into balance. Boy, is this a keeper.

Chaos Theory II: CDLXXVIII (478). Oh, this is hard. I'm still a newbie, but I bought 478 on a whim from a fellow LiveJournaler who described it as "lemon-mint-tonka weirdness." I couldn't resist. At first, I get citrus and mint, but then things mellow. I think there's more lime than lemon; in a way, this smells like my favorite drink, a gimlet with mint, which implies juniper to a certain degree. But the more it wears the more it melds, the tonka/vanilla richness dissolving into the citrus and mint and a base note of richness that I can't describe. Except to say that it's perfect. If I figure it out better as I wear this - because the bottle is definitely home! - then I'll edit with more detail. Last reviewed by xie.

I'm so envious of those of you that get apples! I get ... fall-y potpourri. I feel a little like an Illuminations store full of seasonal candles, too. There's something about this scent that doesn't gel for me, like it falls apart on my skin and I get fragments of what it ought to be, but not the whole thing. It sounded like such a good one ... but I'll keep trying!