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Showing results for tags 'Yule 2013'.
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The Mahogany Tree Christmas is here; Winds whistle shrill, Icy and chill, Little care we; Little we fear Weather without, Shelter'd about The Mahogany Tree. Once on the boughs Birds of rare plume Sang, in its bloom; Night birds are we; Here we carouse, Singing, like them, Perch'd round the stem Of the jolly old tree. Here let us sport, Boys, as we sit- Laughter and wit Flashing so free. Life is but short- When we are gone, Let them sing on, Round the old tree. Evenings we knew, Happy as this; Faces we miss, Pleasant to see. Kind hearts and true, Gentle and just, Peace to your dust! We sing round the tree. Care, like a dun, Lurks at the gate: Let the dog wait; Happy we 'll be! Drink every one; Pile up the coals, Fill the red bowls, Round the old tree. Drain we the cup.- Friend, art afraid? Spirits are laid In the Red Sea. Mantle it up; Empty it yet; Let us forget, Round the old tree. Sorrows, begone! Life and its ills, Duns and their bills, Bid we to flee. Come with the dawn, Blue-devil sprite, Leave us to-night, Round the old tree. - William Makepeace Thackeray Sorrows, begone! Sweet wine, sparkling laughter, warm companionship, and the song of night-birds under a canopy of rustling mahogany: robin-red currants, soft nightingale-brown tonka, glossy starling-black labdanum, hearth-warm amber, mahogany sap, winter woods, a splash of Muscat, and gentle Christmas snow. In The bottle: The Mahogany note from Glowing Vulva plus some distant red wine. Wet On Skin: Same, but with the mahogany note even stronger and the wine receding into almost an afterthought. Dry Down: A little touch of ozone has shown up- which I'm imagining to be the snow note this time out, but mostly this reads like a Mahogany Single Note. Sadly, I'm not getting any tonk a or amber at all and the wine note seems to have vanished entirely. In All: Low throw and a little seems to be going a long way on my skin. Since I really like the Mahogany note, I'm happy to have a bottle, though I wasn't kidding about this behaving like a single note on my skin- I'll let it age and revisit to see if anything pops out in a few months but for now, I shall treat it as a single note and use appropriately
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The Miskatonic Valley’s premiere sex shop. Black and red musks with honey, leather, and sugared black rose. In the bottle: Leather, leather and leather! Definitely a black, new leather. Wet: Still just about a single note leather on me. This is really lovely. There's something just a little powdery to it (likely the honey), but not in a way that would ruin it. Very strong, a big throw for me on this. Dry: Leather, leather leather. If I wanted a SN leather I sure got it! I really do like this and I don't mind at all that it's all leather on me, though I would have liked some of that sugared black rose.
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The Day of Kings, the Celebration of the Magi. In Mexico, on January 6th, children place their shoes by their windows. If they have been good during the previous year, the Wise Men tuck gifts into their shoes during the night. Hot cocoa with cinnamon, coffee, and brown sugar. Right out of the bottle this pretty much smells like hot cocoa to me. It's a milky chocolate. On my skin I can only detect a faint whiff of coffee. The cinnamon does not come out to play til it starts to fade out and it is very, very mellow. I hoped this would be more of a cinnamon coffee scent but on me it is more of a really chocolatey cafe mocha. Chocolate scent lovers will adore this.
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CHANUKKIYAH Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, Asher kid'shanu b'mitzvosav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Chanukah. Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, She'asah nisim la'avoseinu, bayamim ha'hem baz'man hazeh. Baruch ata Ado-nai, Elo-heinu Melech ha'olam, She'hecheyanu, vekiyemanu vehigi'anu laz'man hazeh. Olive oil, beeswax, glowing amber, sweet sufganiyot, pomegranate, and fig. Ha'Neiros halalu anachnu madlikin al hanisim ve'al hanifla'os, ve'al hat'shu'os ve'al hamilchamos, sh'asisa la'avoseinu bayamim hahem baz'man hazeh, al yedei kohaneicha hakedoshim. Vechol sh'monas yemei Chanukah, haneiros halalu kodesh hem. Ve'ein lanu reshus le'hishtamesh ba'hem, eh'la lir'osam bilvad, ke'dei le'hodos u'lehalel leshimcha hagadol al nisecha ve'al nifle'osecha ve'al yeshu'oshecha. Ma'oz tzur yeshu'asi Lecha na'eh leshabe'ach Tikone bais tefilasi Ve'sham todah nezabe'ach Le'es Tachin Mabe'ach Mitzar ham'nabe'ach Az egmor beshir mizmor Chanukas hamizbe'ach. In bottle/imp: Brown sugar and amber, with a sweet bakery/foody note thrown in. There’s a little spice as well. Immediately on skin: This is such a warm, yummy scent. I smell brown sugar and something buttery and foody, but not overly so. It might be the olive oil, but it’s subtle and blends well. The beeswax is in here, but it interacts nicely with the other notes. The amber is tame, and very warm. The fig is adding a nice, soft earthy fruit scent and almost a warm spiciness, but I can’t seem to smell the pomegranate at all. After a few minutes: Even though I seem to have listed all the individual notes above, I have to stress that this scent is very well blended. This has become a little sharper, with the pomegranate peeking in to add a sharp but light fruit note. The sufganiyot (donut, I believe) is definitely present in this blend; I can smell some sort of baked, warm cake and it’s certainly yummy. The beeswax adds something to the blend that tames the foodiness quite nicely. There’s almost a nutty feel to it which is probably from the olive oil blending with the beeswax. This blend has gotten extremely sweet though, with an almost maple syrup quality coming from the sugary notes. (added a couple hours after wearing) A while later, there's also a smokiness that smells just like a burning beeswax candle mixed in with the other notes. It's amazing! Overall Impressions: If you love warm, sweet blends, then this one is for you; it’s not just straight-up foody in my opinion, but the sweet notes come out very strongly. The beeswax is a nice addition, and it’s evident in the blend amongst the other notes. This scent is on the verge of becoming almost maple-syrupy on me, so if you tend to have a problem with that, you may find it happening here. Everything is beautifully blended, however, and creates a beautiful scent. Overall, it’s a nice warm, comforting, sweet scent that is just wonderful and perfect for the name Chanukkiyah!
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BUTTER RUM COOKIE A boozy addition to the devil's bake sale! Rum-soaked butter cookies, crusted with sugar, soaked in almond and garnished with orange rind. Butter RUM? You betcha... with these cookies around, the Devil would be too wasted for malice. The Rum, Almond and Orange Zest all combine together and make this a wearable gourmand for men (and women). The Cookie and Butter part are pretty tame compared to some other BPAL's like Sugar Cookie. Yes, the aromatics here definitely place this in Cologne territory. But in a foodie kind of way, if you can imagine. Note- Almond can be almost unbearably bad on me, it is fine here.
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A lighthearted winter scent: chilly vanilla rose snowballs! Dainty, soft, and certainly unfit for flinging! Pink Snowballs started out Snow White, with a hint of vanilla, and stayed that way for a while. After about two hours, I smelled it and snow white had wandered away, leaving the vanilla left with a single rose and a hint of her perfume. Rather soft, and pretty.
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Almond Blossom Even iron can put forth, Even iron. This is the iron age, But let us take heart Seeing iron break and bud, Seeing rusty iron puff with clouds of blossom. The almond-tree, December's bare iron hooks sticking out of earth. The almond-tree, That knows the deadliest poison, like a snake In supreme bitterness. Upon the iron, and upon the steel, Odd flakes as if of snow, odd bits of snow, Odd crumbs of melting snow. But you mistake, it is not from the sky; From out the iron, and from out the steel, Flying not down from heaven, but storming up, Strange storming up from the dense under-earth Along the iron, to the living steel In rose-hot tips, and flakes of rose-pale snow Setting supreme annunciation to the world. Nay, what a heart of delicate super-faith, Iron-breaking, The rusty swords of almond-trees. Trees suffer, like races, down the long ages. They wander and are exiled, they live in exile through long ages Like drawn blades never sheathed, hacked and gone black, The alien trees in alien lands: and yet The heart of blossom, The unquenchable heart of blossom! Look at the many-cicatrised frail vine, none more scarred and frail, Yet see him fling himself abroad in fresh abandon From the small wound-stump. Even the wilful, obstinate, gummy fig-tree Can be kept down, but he'll burst like a polyp into prolixity. And the almond-tree, in exile, in the iron age! This is the ancient southern earth whence the vases were baked, amphoras, craters, cantharus, oenochoe, and open-hearted cylix, Bristling now with the iron of almond-trees Iron, but unforgotten, Iron, dawn-hearted, Ever-beating dawn-heart, enveloped in iron against the exile, against the ages. See it come forth in blossom From the snow-remembering heart In long-nighted January, In the long dark nights of the evening star, and Sirius, and the Etna snow-wind through the long night. Sweating his drops of blood through the long-nighted Gethsemane Into blossom, into pride, into honey-triumph, into most exquisite splendour. Oh, give me the tree of life in blossom And the Cross sprouting its superb and fearless flowers! Something must be reassuring to the almond, in the evening star, and the snow-wind, and the long, long, nights, Some memory of far, sun-gentler lands, So that the faith in his heart smiles again And his blood ripples with that untenable delight of once-more-vindicated faith, And the Gethsemane blood at the iron pores unfolds, unfolds, Pearls itself into tenderness of bud And in a great and sacred forthcoming steps forth, steps out in one stride A naked tree of blossom, like a bridegroom bathing in dew, divested of cover, Frail-naked, utterly uncovered To the green night-baying of the dog-star, Etna's snow-edged wind And January's loud-seeming sun. Think of it, from the iron fastness Suddenly to dare to come out naked, in perfection of blossom, beyond the sword-rust. Think, to stand there in full-unfolded nudity, smiling, With all the snow-wind, and the sun-glare, and the dog-star baying epithalamion. Oh, honey-bodied beautiful one, Come forth from iron, Red your heart is. Fragile-tender, fragile-tender life-body, More fearless than iron all the time, And so much prouder, so disdainful of reluctances. In the distance like hoar-frost, like silvery ghosts communing on a green hill, Hoar-frost-like and mysterious. In the garden raying out With a body like spray, dawn-tender, and looking about With such insuperable, subtly-smiling assurance, Sword-blade-born. Unpromised, No bounds being set. Flaked out and come unpromised, The tree being life-divine, Fearing nothing, life-blissful at the core Within iron and earth. Knots of pink, fish-silvery In heaven, in blue, blue heaven, Soundless, bliss-full, wide-rayed, honey-bodied, Red at the core, Red at the core, Knotted in heaven upon the fine light. Open, Open, Five times wide open, Six times wide open, And given, and perfect; And red at the core with the last sore-heartedness, Sore-hearted-looking. - DH Lawrence Something must be reassuring to the almond, in the evening star, and the snow-wind, and the long, long, nights: almond blossom, hoar-frost, and snow-wind. When I first read the description for this scent I thought it would be full on almond, as in the nut, not the blossom! So when I first caught the scent when I opened the bottle I was taken aback! It had a very light flower scent, with no hint of the nutty goodness I was expecting. However the floral scent from the almond blossom was very light and pleasant so I applied a dab to my skin. The floral amped up immediately and I became a little nervous, floral and I do not get along much. But once my skin had a chance to work with the oils it blossomed into a floral I could actually wear! It is very light, and slightly warmed with the briefest touch of almond, and I think I could actually smell the cold snow-wind! The scent is almost alive, as if you would catch it on a breeze while walking through a forest in March, when some buds opened in anticipation of longer days and warm sun, only to be pushed back into winter with a surprise dusting of snow.... I don't know how she does it, but Bravo, Beth!!
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No tower too high, no dragon too mighty! Get in ass-kickin’, self-savin’ gear with this bright, energetic perfume! Orange blossom, neroli, white musk, shimmering amber, yellow sandalwood, Himalayan cedar, radiant saffron, and golden honey. In the bottle: Musk and amber with a touch of orange blossom. Wet: Cedar and saffron with just a touch of musk. I am not a huge cedar fan and I am so worried this is going to over-run all that gorgeous orange blossom and neroli that I wanted from this. Dry: Powdery cedar with a touch of neroli. I am hoping this ages well and the cedar mellows out some.
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The Garden in Winter Frosty-white and cold it lies Underneath the fretful skies; Snowflakes flutter where the red Banners of the poppies spread, And the drifts are wide and deep Where the lilies fell asleep. But the sunsets o'er it throw Flame-like splendor, lucent glow, And the moonshine makes it gleam Like a wonderland of dream, And the sharp winds all the day Pipe and whistle shrilly gay. Safe beneath the snowdrifts lie Rainbow buds of by-and-by; In the long, sweet days of spring Music of bluebells shall ring, And its faintly golden cup Many a primrose will hold up. Though the winds are keen and chill Roses' hearts are beating still, And the garden tranquilly Dreams of happy hours to be - In the summer days of blue All its dreamings will come true. - Lucy Maud Montgomery Swaths of red poppies, white roses, graceful winter lilies, and sun-bright primroses beaming from beneath a flutter of snowflakes. In the bottle: Lilies and snow! Wet: Lilies and poppies with a dust of snow on them. This is a very visual scent for me and I don't normally have a visual reaction to scent, but I can just see the lightly snow covered primroses and poppies and lilies and roses drooping with the weight of the snow on them. Dry: A light, floral snow. Lovely!
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Yule Cookie Clouds of flour and spices with the scent of ginger tea, warm caraway cakes, snickerdoodle pinwheels, and sugar cookies with sweet orange frosting A direct sniff from the bottle and I thought I had found another yummy baked cookie concoction from the lab with a slightly different note, maybe that is the caraway?? It smells wonderful, but not quite like the other 'baked goods' scents that have been released before. At first when I applied it it was all baked cookie, but within minutes I got some sort of citrus amp that is almost overwhelming! I wasn't expecting the sweet orange frosting to be so... lemony!! It seemed to be the only note I could detect!! That citrus did fade to the background after about 20 minutes, and the ginger tea starting coming out... it really is morphing into something very lovely. Every once in awhile I pick up the sugar cookie or snicker doodle sweetness, but it is the ginger tea that my skin is amping. For my skin chemistry it seems it is more 'Yule Tea' than 'Yule Cookie'.
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EGG NOG Sweet brandy, dark rum, heavy cream, sugar, and a dash of nutmeg. Oh, Mama. This one is DEAD ON ACCURATE. I am madly obsessed with Egg Nog. For me, the Holidays wouldn't be the same without it. And a good batch of Egg Nog has a scent to it that is equally as appealing as the taste. And BPAL's limited edition masterpiece has that scent... the smell of the perfect batch of Egg nog, served up in an antique crystal and gold trimmed goblet. Brimming over with spice, rum, sugary goodness, and oh, oh, oh... that BRANDY. It really leaps out at me and my happy little nose! That's my 'First Whiff' experience. Now *on* gets even better... After some dry down time, the rum is really prominent. But it's accented by the nutmeg and the brandy. It's so sweet and subtle. Warm. Inviting. Almost... alluring. I can't believe I'm wearing an "Egg Nog" scented oil! It's downright delightful and so far, it's really holding. The spice of this scent gets better and better with my body warmth, too. About 30 minutes later: It's still going fairly strong. Much of the other notes had faded off, but that rum is still there. Sweet, sweet rum. I couldn't resist... I HAD to do a re-app, just so I could sniff the contents of the bottle again. I decanted some straight to an imp, and am applying from that so that I can really slather it on now. I hate Holiday shopping, and so I have decided this is going to be my "Holiday Shopping Blues Pick-Me-Up" scent. It does the trick! -Leslie
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A Winter Dawn Above the marge of night a star still shines, And on the frosty hills the somber pines Harbor an eerie wind that crooneth low Over the glimmering wastes of virgin snow. Through the pale arch of orient the morn Comes in a milk-white splendor newly-born, A sword of crimson cuts in twain the gray Banners of shadow hosts, and lo, the day! - Lucy Maud Montgomery The soft splendor of dawn in winter: pearlescent pink grapefruit, neroli, helichrysum, freesia, white mandarin, and rockrose rising behind a dapple of snowflakes. In the bottle: Soft snow, almost like a SN of the lab's snow note. Wet: Soft, floral snow, maybe a tinge of grapefruit. This is really pleasant and one of my favorite snow scents from the lab so far. Dry: The florals come out much more here, very pleasant, very sweet, but the snow note is still predominant. I like this one a lot!
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On the night of the Epiphany, a joyful, broomstick-riding hag clad in a tattered shawl drops into chimneys all over Italy, bestowing gifts to good children, and dropping coal into the stockings of naughty kiddies. La Befana vien di notte Con le scarpe tutte rotte Col vestito alla Romana Viva, Viva La Befana! As the Three Wise Men searched for the house of the Christ child, they found themselves lost. Eventually, they stopped at a small house and knocked on the door. A small, wizened woman opened the door, holding a broom in her hand. The Astrologers asked the woman if she knew the location of the child, but, unfortunately, she did not know who these men were looking for, and could not aid them in their search. It was deep into the night, and the air was chilly, so the kindly woman offered the three men her hospitality. They spent the night in her warm, comfortable home, and shared bread and stories with one another. The Astrologers explained to the woman why they were looking for this blessed infant, and invited her to join them in their search come morning. Though she was touched by their tale, she declined, as she had a great deal of housework to do. At daybreak, the Astrologers awoke. They thanked the woman for her generosity, gathered their things, and prepared to leave. Before they departed, they, again, asked the old woman if she would like to join them on their journey. Again, she declined, and sent them on their way. After they had left, she regretted her decision, and she set off to find the Three Wise Men. After many long and frustrating hours of searching, she still could not find them. Saddened, yet still filled with hope, she stopped to give a gift to every good child she passed. La Befana comes by night With her shoes old and broken She comes dressed in the Roman way Long life to the Befana! Candy charcoal, winter lilies, parma violet, a sprig of cypress, a poof of chimney dust, and holiday sweets. straight sniff from bottle is purely sweet and gooey....absolutely nothing else ... holy moly...once applied the violet is astonishing and the dust and candy charcoal....ZomG... if you are a violet lover of bpal blends this is for you!! words cannot even describe the beauty and depth of this one...it is heartbreakingly beautiful i love it to death
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Held on December 5th, this is the festival of the Horned God of the Forest, one of the di indigetes of Rome, god of cattle, fertility, wild, untamed nature, and prophecy through dreams. The scent of a thick, starlit, unspoiled forest, with a burst of wild musk, opobalsamum, black bryony, mandragora, and hemlock. The label art on this is a little strange, a dapper young man riding Krampus. The dood on Krampus has a Victorian mustache. Anyways... Sniffed from the bottle, this is a sweet, cool pine with a touch of a skin-musk, sort of like Coyote / Ivanushka. On the skin, this scent develops a little bit of the metallic snap of pine, similar to Black Forest/Nocnitsa (without the dirt). It's not a sharp, airy pine by any means, and there may be a hint of snow but this is not a predominant note. The scent dries down to a soft, snuggly Coyote-esque forest aroma, with the pine and woods being a full, rounded note as opposed to bracing. It's actually quite nice and close to the skin, and if you're scared of 'forest' notes, you shouldn't be of this one!
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The perfected winter rose, dew covered and freshly cut. Red Rose. Limited edition. My favorite rose so far. This is the first rose scent I haven't melted off within an hour. (I was amazed the first time I wore it. Eight hours, and no need to reapply!) In the bottle, it smells like a rose from the florist - that cold hothouse smell. On, it warms up slightly, but not too much - it's got a slight bite, which is a nice change from most roses that fade to a powdery softness. I'll be very sad when I finish this one.
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Like brooms of steel The Snow and Wind Had swept the Winter Street, The House was hooked, The Sun sent out Faint Deputies of heat- The Apple in the cellar snug Where rode the Bird The Silence tied His ample, plodding Steed, Was all the one that played. - Emily Dickinson Sharp, metallic slices of snow and freezing wind with a faint hint of cellar dust, burlap, and apple. In the bottle: There is such a strong camphor note to this that I cannot smell anything else. Whew. On the skin: Bitter camphor and eucalyptus with a hint of sour apples. Dry: Medicinal and sweet, but not the usual apple note I am used to from the lab. Not... really what I was hoping for with this scent. This is off to the swaps.
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Days of Winter Sunshine "Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins." - Gustave Flaubert Rain falling through the heart: carrot seed, frankincense, white jasmine, sea buckthorn berry, and iris. This, this is goooood. It's a light jasmine with a hint of fresh green and a touch of the sea. Dry down is mostly frankincense and jasmine, I looooves it!
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Anything BUT jolly! Draped with chains and bells, wielding both whip and rod, this rag-clad, horned, red-skinned, soot-covered leering creature is both the companion and the antithesis of rosy-cheeked and ebullient Kris Kringle. He is called by many names, and, in a myriad of cultures, he is seen with different robes and faces, but he is nevertheless always a sinister and fearsome instrument of Santa's wrath: he wields a switch on all irredeemably naughty children before tossing them into his large black sack and whisking them away. Be good, or Krampus will toss you in a river! Sinister red musk, black leather, dusty rags, and wooden switches. straight sniff from bottle reminds me oh so much of my beloved anne bonny!!! patchouli and red musk...l-o-v-e it!!! OMG...ok, honestly...i was so afraid this would be in the same league as "rat king"...i did want to love rat king....really i did....but it was far too hot and peppery for me... this one is truly, truly nothing as is described...it is all sweet and thick and resinous in the most amazing way possible...after 30 minutes or so, something almost green & herbal...anyway, for those who know me, know my chemistry with leather can be nothing less than spectacular...meaning whatever the masses smell, i usually don't ... but i do know that krampus is amazing on me and i love it beyond belief....gah!!! :D ETA: in my haste and amazement of this gorgeous scent, i found a misspelled word or two.....
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Oh, I'm half gone! Gingerbread with vetiver, pine pitch, troll musk, black basil, clove smoke, and scorched cumin. Not the best first review because on me this disappeared into nothingness almost immediately. I was expecting something acrid and herbal and couldn't see how the gingerbread would come through - but strangely although it was all Troll when wet, once it dried I get a faint herbal gingerbread and that is all. I'm puzzled.
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Iced blackberries, blackcurrant honey, frozen white peach, and sweet vanilla cream. Oh my god, you guys. You guys, oh my god. Oh my god. Ice Princess smells so very good. For reference, I use the bath oils in the bath; I'm sure this will be a bit different on individual people's skin if you're a slatherer. Ice Princess is funny, because in so many ways, she's the opposite of what I'd envision from her name (or, I suppose, from the colloquial use it takes on). Rather than being cold or harsh, she's warm and comforting. The cream and (I suspect) the blackcurrant honey take on a sweet edge, in the water, that reminds me a bit of the sort of warm fuzzy-feeling I get from white musk, with a definite fruity edge--mostly it's too well blended for me to pick out a particular fruit, but sometimes I got hints of the peach sort of popping up above all the others, just for a moment. I also smell a bit of something floral, though it's not listed in the notes, and I can't think what I would be smelling--it reminds me of just the lightest touch of rose. Perhaps my brain is tricking me, there, because Ice Princess feels a lot, to me, like Winter Maiden? I can't say, but whatever the reason, I really love Ice Princess.
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On December 5th, the eve of St. Nicholas day, a veritable storm of Krampi swarm the streets of Bavaria. Wielding sticks and chains, they inspire the hearts of naughty children with terror. Smoke, fur, and rusty chains with apple schnapps, malted chocolate bonbons, and Bavarian mints. Krampuslaufen smells wonderfully of Christmas to me. My grandmother used to bake a truly massive amount of cookies when I was younger. Traditional Polish ones, American ones, Italian ones the recipes of which she got from her sister's Italian mother in law, even Baklava from a recipe she got from an old Greek neighbor. She would give us all of these pack haphazardly in a huge disposable roasting pan. This smells a lot like pulling the foil off of that - not really cookie but all the bits and bobs that went into them. It should be discordant but some how it's not. It doesn't really smell of apple, or smoke, or chains. It smells nothing like what I expected it to. There seems to actually be something like red musk (?) underneath it all tying it together. I don't usually like red musk, but this is reminding me a little of the red musk in Midnight Kiss which I really love. Maybe it's just the way the apple schnapps note is coming across, but I don't smell apple. All in all it's really well blended and kind of hard for my nose to parse the notes, but I like it and I like smelling like it.
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Then I saw the lurid shimmering of pale light, and heard the insidious lapping of sunless waters. Again I shivered, for I did not like the things that the night had brought, and wished bitterly that no forefather had summoned me to this primal rite. As the steps and the passage grew broader, I heard another sound, the thin, whining mockery of a feeble flute; and suddenly there spread out before me the boundless vista of an inner world-a vast fungous shore litten by a belching column of sick greenish flame and washed by a wide oily river that flowed from abysses frightful and unsuspected to join the blackest gulfs of immemorial ocean. Salted citron, black coconut, wormwood, and oily labdanum oozing through fungal mosses and sick, greenish subterranean flora. In the bottle: My first impression is one of salt, and then a bit of the citron and coconut. Wet: Aquatic and salty with just a touch of fungus. Dry: Salty aquatic fungus, actually very pleasant. I wish that citron stuck around more, perhaps aging will help it along.
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He beckoned me into a low, candle-lit room with massive exposed rafters and dark, stiff, sparse furniture of the seventeenth century. The past was vivid there, for not an attribute was missing. There was a cavernous fireplace and a spinning-wheel at which a bent old woman in loose wrapper and deep poke-bonnet sat back toward me, silently spinning despite the festive season. An indefinite dampness seemed upon the place, and I marvelled that no fire should be blazing. The high-backed settle faced the row of curtained windows at the left, and seemed to be occupied, though I was not sure. I did not like everything about what I saw, and felt again the fear I had had. This fear grew stronger from what had before lessened it, for the more I looked at the old man's bland face the more its very blandness terrified me. The eyes never moved, and the skin was too like wax. Finally I was sure it was not a face at all, but a fiendishly cunning mask. But the flabby hands, curiously gloved, wrote genially on the tablet and told me I must wait a while before I could be led to the place of festival. Candle wax and waxen "skin," rotting leather and reeking damp wood, and the ashes of a yawning, cold fireplace. In the bottle: What an odd smell... it's almost like sweetened condensed milk? Wet: Similar, but more stale. I think what I smell may be the candle wax, the staleness is the ashes from the fireplace. It's the same sort of 'stale' I smelled in Death-Fires Dancing Over the Tombs - I think it might be the Lab's stone note? Dry: Rather pleasant. The candle wax is definitely predominant. I don't really get much of anything else. It's a warm, sweet, waxy pleasantness.
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Go to Sleep, Darlings "I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again." - Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass Kiss-soft clouds of spun-sugar snow. So. Take Snow White, remove the Play Doh and the floral component that I am allergic to. Add the faintest touch of mint when wet and you get this. In other words, I need 312 bottles.
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Once upon a time, there lived a stone-hearted, evil butcher and his grasping, covetous wife. Their shop was located near a parochial boarding school in a small village in eastern France. One day, three little boys passed the butcher's shop. Their clothes were neat and starched, and the wicked couple fancied that they could see gold stitching on the little boys' shirtcuffs. The butcher's eyes gleamed with avarice, and he hatched an evil plan to rob the children. His wife enticed the little boys into the shop and fed them poisoned sweets. Her husband then slit their throats, chopped their little bodies into pieces, and put the pieces into barrels. Good Saint Nicholas discovered the monstrous crime, and, through God's grace, resurrected the little boys. He confronted the vile butcher and forced him to atone for his crime. The butcher became Le Père Fouettard, Saint Nicholas' partner on his Christmas travels. Dressed in a soot-covered black suit that mirrors Father Christmas' suit of red and white, he travels with Saint Nick and dispenses coal and floggings to naughty children. Whip leather, coal dust, gaufrette, and black licorice. This is really different...in a good way. It has this odd sweet but not sweet scent. I really get the licorice full on with leather afternotes. Then you do get a hint of coal-kinda strange. This smells really good on me, I can really rock the leather and licorice for some reason . I'd recommend it for those that have that body chemistry where only food or non-floral scents smell good (like me).
