jenett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jenett) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
smellsgood2014-04-19 04:29 pm
jenett) wrote in smellsgood2014-04-19 04:29 pm
Entry tags:
Perfume reviews
Welcome to reviews of 11 BPAL scents: Carnal, Hetairae, Dee, Dragon's Heart, Ladon, Lyonesse, The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, Black Annis, Cthuhlu, Darkness, and Mary Shelley.
(The first two I knew I love, the next five were ordered, the last four were frimps.)
I bought bottles of Carnal and Hetairae because they're things I know I like. But you get reviews anyway!.
Carnal: Bold, bright mandarin paired with the sweet, sensual earthiness of fig.
This is not your subtle carnality. This is Hufflepuff carnality. No games, no masks, no plots. Just honest, earthy, joyous hedonism.
Wet: Neon orange. But it’s not just orange, almost immediately there’s the lovely base note of the fig coming through, and it settles down quickly into a nice mix.
Drying: As it starts drying, there’s a hint of spices in there - it goes to something almost like a dried out pomander, still citrus, but with the tiniest hint of long-dried clove.
Dry: Settles down to a pleasant spicy and orangey and figgy happy. (Well, it makes me happy to smell.)
A while later (about an hour): Still happy orange. Still happy fig. Still happy! (Though much less obvious happy.)
End result: I bought a bottle of this because I knew I liked it a lot. I still like it a lot.
Hetairae: A seductive and dazzling blend of golden honey, fiery patchouli, sweet fig and clove, and a blushing touch of ylang ylang.
I love the depth and complexity of this, how it’s got hints and fragments, and layers to it, without being fussy about telling you which of those layers you should be caring about. It’s got an element of being down the alley from a spice merchant, and of honeyed wine, and a curl of incense going in the corner. I can sniff my wrist five times inside a minute and get five different things.
Wet: Lots of clove, lots of fig, a bit of ylang ylang. The ‘happy dirt’ note of patchouli, and enough sweet to be noticeable. It fades almost immediately, not that there’s no scent, but rather that sense of it being there just out of the corner of your eye.
Drying: I get a bigger whiff of patchouli (I think it’s the patchouli: it’s spicy and earthy and not fig.) And more ylang ylang.
Dry: Lots more of the ylang ylang, but it comes out as balanced, because there’s an underpinning of the other things, making it - if this was music, it’d be something slow and measured with a trail of melody-flower weaving in and out between different voices.
An hour or so later: It’s settled down to more patchouli and a little bit of flower, but I do not think it is patchouli out to take over the world. (Which would be bad. I know a lot of people who find patchouli annoying, some of whose noses I am around on a regular basis.)
End result: I like this a lot for days when I want something a bit more complicated than Carnal. (or O or Queen of Sheba, which are two of my other go-tos.)
Namely, things I thought I might like or had reason to want to try.
Dee: His scent is soft English leather, rosewood and tonka with a hint of incense, parchment and soft woods.
Wet: Lots of parchment, lots of wood. It’s a very soothing booky smell.
Drying: There’s something spicier, here. The scent’s very faint, but more rosewood and incense than parchment now.
Dry: As it dries, I get more of the parchment and woods and rosewood, and that’s a really nice comforting sort of smell for me. (Your mileage of library smells may vary.)
End result: I wish this were stronger, but I like it, and will continue to wear it sometimes.
Dragon’s Heart: A scent pulsing with vitality, warmth and insurmountable strength: dragon's blood resin, red and black musks, a throb of fig and a sliver of black currant.
Wet: Boy, there’s musk in there. Lots of musk.
Drying: Less musk, more dragon’s blood, a little more of the fruit.
Dry: Still with the combo.
End result: I think this is a “It’s not bad on me, but it’s not really what I want to smell like” sort of smell. Swap bin it goes.
Ladon: The hundred-headed dragon that guards the garden of the Hesperides: dragon?s blood resin, golden apple, apple blossom, white musk and hyacinth.
Wet: Boy. Musk. And resin. And a little bit of apple.
Drying: Apple! Lots and lots of orchardy apple goodness - not just the apple, but other things around the apple. I like how the musk and the resin are playing nicely with the flowers.
Dry: It has settled down to apples with roots! I like this.
End result: I like this, though it’s fairly weak on me.
Lyonesse: Golden vanilla and gilded musk, stargazer lily, white sandalwood, grey amber, elemi, orris root, ambergris and sea moss.
Wet: I smell vanilla and flowers, first, and then something a little bit spicy. It’s subtle, not ALL THE FLOWERS EVERWHERE but I really like the vanilla and amber and ambergris anchoring things.
Drying: It’s remarkably faint, even this early, with very little throw.
Dry: It has settled down to a faint but perceptible vanilla and amber and flowers. Very little throw, but definitely perceptible and I like what’s there a lot. It’s a very comforting sort of scent, without being foodie. I like it a lot, though I think I need to contemplate what’d improve the throw.
End result: See above about lack of throw but liking it.
Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil: Whiffs of cinnamon bark, almond, and spikenard surround a perfect fruit, whose scent is akin to a tamarind, with the grace of a fine grape, as warm and rich as a fresh fig, glistening red like pomegranate seeds, and as crisp as an apple.
Wet: Oooh. I really like this - there’s something of the bite of the tamarind, and grape, and the spikenard and apple. And a hint of spice.
Drying: And now it’s gone to a very rich spicy-fruity-complicated thing that’s got a hint of damp earth, and a lot of complexity and a lot of fruity quiet goodness. I like this one rather a lot, and it’s a thing I want to smell like.
End result: I like this and may contemplate a bottle of it in future.
Which in this case are all things I don't think I'd have worked around to trying on my own for a while.
Black Annis: Black Annis' perfume is a mixture of damp cave lichen and oak leaf with a hint of vetiver, civet and anise.
Wet: Anise. Lots of vetier and civet. Lots of “This is a cave. Have I mentioned this is a cave? With some damp? And probably some animals around here somewhere. Are you sure you want to be here?”
Drying: The anise is there and not there? I mean, there’s the sharpness of the licorice tang, but there’s also a lot of “Yep. Still a cave.”
Dry: Still some anise. Really, this is like someone eating that really dark English licorice my grandmother used to send me in a cave, where it's all about the licorice bite and really not very sweet. Which is not bad, just sometimes a little odd.
End result: I’m sort of fascinated by the smell, but I don’t know that it’s a thing I want to smell like?
Cthuhlu: A creeping, wet, slithering scent, dripping with seaweed, oceanic plants and dark, unfathomable waters.
Wet: Yep, those are some unfathomable waters. Very ozoney around the edges, and with bits of unnameable plants.
Drying: More ozoney. Which is both a bit weird, because really, you don’t get storms *under* the water, but at the same time, Cthulhu, what are you going to do. It’s not a bad thing. Just giving me ‘storm in the ocean’ more than ‘unfathomable depths’.
Dry: Rather nice.
End result: I like unfathomable waters, apparently. And sometimes want to smell like them.
Darkness: Bottled gloom; the essence of oblivion. Blackest opium and narcissus deepened by myrrh.
Wet: This fades out almost immediately, which is a pity because I liked the first whiff.
Drying: Still faint, and still faint in that “I think I’d like you! Come back!” sort of way.
End result: Alas, the lack of … lack. (I’ll try this one in a couple of weeks, I think, and in higher quantity.)
Mary Shelley The scent of absinthe, lightning, stormclouds, and laudanum crashing through a veil of soft Victorian oriental perfume.
Wet: Ooh. This is gloriously complicated. I like it rather a lot more than I thought I was going to. There’s some of that perfume, but there’s sharp notes, and then ozoney notes, and something just sweet enough.
Drying and dry: It fades down to something still pleasantly complicated but not demanding.
End result: Like this a lot more than I thought I would, and will keep.
(The first two I knew I love, the next five were ordered, the last four were frimps.)
Bottles
I bought bottles of Carnal and Hetairae because they're things I know I like. But you get reviews anyway!.
Carnal: Bold, bright mandarin paired with the sweet, sensual earthiness of fig.
This is not your subtle carnality. This is Hufflepuff carnality. No games, no masks, no plots. Just honest, earthy, joyous hedonism.
Wet: Neon orange. But it’s not just orange, almost immediately there’s the lovely base note of the fig coming through, and it settles down quickly into a nice mix.
Drying: As it starts drying, there’s a hint of spices in there - it goes to something almost like a dried out pomander, still citrus, but with the tiniest hint of long-dried clove.
Dry: Settles down to a pleasant spicy and orangey and figgy happy. (Well, it makes me happy to smell.)
A while later (about an hour): Still happy orange. Still happy fig. Still happy! (Though much less obvious happy.)
End result: I bought a bottle of this because I knew I liked it a lot. I still like it a lot.
Hetairae: A seductive and dazzling blend of golden honey, fiery patchouli, sweet fig and clove, and a blushing touch of ylang ylang.
I love the depth and complexity of this, how it’s got hints and fragments, and layers to it, without being fussy about telling you which of those layers you should be caring about. It’s got an element of being down the alley from a spice merchant, and of honeyed wine, and a curl of incense going in the corner. I can sniff my wrist five times inside a minute and get five different things.
Wet: Lots of clove, lots of fig, a bit of ylang ylang. The ‘happy dirt’ note of patchouli, and enough sweet to be noticeable. It fades almost immediately, not that there’s no scent, but rather that sense of it being there just out of the corner of your eye.
Drying: I get a bigger whiff of patchouli (I think it’s the patchouli: it’s spicy and earthy and not fig.) And more ylang ylang.
Dry: Lots more of the ylang ylang, but it comes out as balanced, because there’s an underpinning of the other things, making it - if this was music, it’d be something slow and measured with a trail of melody-flower weaving in and out between different voices.
An hour or so later: It’s settled down to more patchouli and a little bit of flower, but I do not think it is patchouli out to take over the world. (Which would be bad. I know a lot of people who find patchouli annoying, some of whose noses I am around on a regular basis.)
End result: I like this a lot for days when I want something a bit more complicated than Carnal. (or O or Queen of Sheba, which are two of my other go-tos.)
Ordered imps
Namely, things I thought I might like or had reason to want to try.
Dee: His scent is soft English leather, rosewood and tonka with a hint of incense, parchment and soft woods.
Wet: Lots of parchment, lots of wood. It’s a very soothing booky smell.
Drying: There’s something spicier, here. The scent’s very faint, but more rosewood and incense than parchment now.
Dry: As it dries, I get more of the parchment and woods and rosewood, and that’s a really nice comforting sort of smell for me. (Your mileage of library smells may vary.)
End result: I wish this were stronger, but I like it, and will continue to wear it sometimes.
Dragon’s Heart: A scent pulsing with vitality, warmth and insurmountable strength: dragon's blood resin, red and black musks, a throb of fig and a sliver of black currant.
Wet: Boy, there’s musk in there. Lots of musk.
Drying: Less musk, more dragon’s blood, a little more of the fruit.
Dry: Still with the combo.
End result: I think this is a “It’s not bad on me, but it’s not really what I want to smell like” sort of smell. Swap bin it goes.
Ladon: The hundred-headed dragon that guards the garden of the Hesperides: dragon?s blood resin, golden apple, apple blossom, white musk and hyacinth.
Wet: Boy. Musk. And resin. And a little bit of apple.
Drying: Apple! Lots and lots of orchardy apple goodness - not just the apple, but other things around the apple. I like how the musk and the resin are playing nicely with the flowers.
Dry: It has settled down to apples with roots! I like this.
End result: I like this, though it’s fairly weak on me.
Lyonesse: Golden vanilla and gilded musk, stargazer lily, white sandalwood, grey amber, elemi, orris root, ambergris and sea moss.
Wet: I smell vanilla and flowers, first, and then something a little bit spicy. It’s subtle, not ALL THE FLOWERS EVERWHERE but I really like the vanilla and amber and ambergris anchoring things.
Drying: It’s remarkably faint, even this early, with very little throw.
Dry: It has settled down to a faint but perceptible vanilla and amber and flowers. Very little throw, but definitely perceptible and I like what’s there a lot. It’s a very comforting sort of scent, without being foodie. I like it a lot, though I think I need to contemplate what’d improve the throw.
End result: See above about lack of throw but liking it.
Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil: Whiffs of cinnamon bark, almond, and spikenard surround a perfect fruit, whose scent is akin to a tamarind, with the grace of a fine grape, as warm and rich as a fresh fig, glistening red like pomegranate seeds, and as crisp as an apple.
Wet: Oooh. I really like this - there’s something of the bite of the tamarind, and grape, and the spikenard and apple. And a hint of spice.
Drying: And now it’s gone to a very rich spicy-fruity-complicated thing that’s got a hint of damp earth, and a lot of complexity and a lot of fruity quiet goodness. I like this one rather a lot, and it’s a thing I want to smell like.
End result: I like this and may contemplate a bottle of it in future.
Free imps
Which in this case are all things I don't think I'd have worked around to trying on my own for a while.
Black Annis: Black Annis' perfume is a mixture of damp cave lichen and oak leaf with a hint of vetiver, civet and anise.
Wet: Anise. Lots of vetier and civet. Lots of “This is a cave. Have I mentioned this is a cave? With some damp? And probably some animals around here somewhere. Are you sure you want to be here?”
Drying: The anise is there and not there? I mean, there’s the sharpness of the licorice tang, but there’s also a lot of “Yep. Still a cave.”
Dry: Still some anise. Really, this is like someone eating that really dark English licorice my grandmother used to send me in a cave, where it's all about the licorice bite and really not very sweet. Which is not bad, just sometimes a little odd.
End result: I’m sort of fascinated by the smell, but I don’t know that it’s a thing I want to smell like?
Cthuhlu: A creeping, wet, slithering scent, dripping with seaweed, oceanic plants and dark, unfathomable waters.
Wet: Yep, those are some unfathomable waters. Very ozoney around the edges, and with bits of unnameable plants.
Drying: More ozoney. Which is both a bit weird, because really, you don’t get storms *under* the water, but at the same time, Cthulhu, what are you going to do. It’s not a bad thing. Just giving me ‘storm in the ocean’ more than ‘unfathomable depths’.
Dry: Rather nice.
End result: I like unfathomable waters, apparently. And sometimes want to smell like them.
Darkness: Bottled gloom; the essence of oblivion. Blackest opium and narcissus deepened by myrrh.
Wet: This fades out almost immediately, which is a pity because I liked the first whiff.
Drying: Still faint, and still faint in that “I think I’d like you! Come back!” sort of way.
End result: Alas, the lack of … lack. (I’ll try this one in a couple of weeks, I think, and in higher quantity.)
Mary Shelley The scent of absinthe, lightning, stormclouds, and laudanum crashing through a veil of soft Victorian oriental perfume.
Wet: Ooh. This is gloriously complicated. I like it rather a lot more than I thought I was going to. There’s some of that perfume, but there’s sharp notes, and then ozoney notes, and something just sweet enough.
Drying and dry: It fades down to something still pleasantly complicated but not demanding.
End result: Like this a lot more than I thought I would, and will keep.
no subject
no subject
I like vetiver? It's a really odd combo in the Black Annis, mind, but interesting.
no subject
no subject
I am still on the fence about Dee. I've tried it a few times as the imp ages (many people note that it changes drastically in even a few months as it gets older) and I still can't decide if I love it or despise it. I am not indifferent to it, that's for sure, but I keep vacillating.
no subject
:)
thank you for the rec!
no subject
no subject