![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
juushikaEL DIA DE REYES (LE, Yule 2007)
Hot cocoa with cinnamon, coffee, and brown sugar.
In the vial: Mexican hot chocolate—cocoa powder, milk, and cinnamon. It's pungent and spicy but foody-sweet, dark tan in color.
On me: The pungency fades and this resolves to powdered cocoa, powdered milk, and a touch of spice and coffee. It smells like the puff of dry ingredients from a just-opened bag of brownie mix, refined but cinnamon and barest hint of coffee which make it more mature, flavorful, and slightly less foody. (The boyfriend, however, smells chocolate chip cookies.) Wear length and throw are both moderate to low; color is the same powdery pale cocoa of brownie mix.
Verdict: A bag of brownie mix may not seem like the ideal perfume, but El Dia de Reyes is unexpectedly wearable and wonderful. The powderiness creates the sense of a delicious, silky second skin; the dry cinnamon makes for a more mature, less straight up foody scent. This isn't a personal favorite, and I wish it stuck around longer, but it's a delightful, sensual, delicious scent and I enjoy my decant.
THIRTEEN (LE, Purple Label/4.13.07)
A base of cocoa absolute and white chocolate with thirteen baneful and beneficial bits: cardamom, fig meat, grains of paradise, rice flower, chamomile, sandalwood, catnip, clove, and a bundle of five blessed blossoms and herbs.
In the vial: Chocolate and dark herbs. Color is dark algae green.
On me: I once saw this described as an algae-covered fish tank, but in a good way—and, oddly enough, it is. The heart of the scent is dark, bitter chocolate—bar chocolate, not cocoa powder, but not the least bit foody. It's accompanied by dark green herbs, damp and almost rotting. They remind me distinctly of green algae, and make the scent dark and organic. Thirteen is deep, dark, unexpected, almost unnerving—but somehow delightful, in a way I can't quite explain. The oil is incredibly potent, and both the throw and wear length are strong; the color is a dark algae green shadowed by black.
Verdict: I find this scent easy to describe but impossible to convey. Chocolate and rotting herbs may seem disgusting, but Beth manages wonders. This is an intense, deep, organic scent. The scent of rotting vegetation sometimes sits on the line between disgusting and enticing; Thirteen has just crossed that line. It's cocoa without being foody, herbal but not dry, and unusual but somehow amazing. It's my favorite Thirteen, one of my favorite chocolate blends, and I cherish my imp.
SNAKE OIL (GC, Ars Amotoria)
By far, our most popular scent! Magnetic, mysterious, and exceedingly sexual in nature. A blend of exotic Indonesian oils sugared with vanilla.
My imp is aged two years.
In the vial: Thick, dark, unsweet vanilla and red musk.
On me: Snake Oil goes on as dark vanilla, dark spices, and a whiff of musk. It's not a sweet blend, initially, and the spices are the furthest thing from foody. It reminds me of the cap of an old bottle of mid-grade vanilla extract, where the extract has dried to a thick, crusty sludge, the scent is too dense to be sweet but is still somehow cloying, and the alcohol makes it smell medicinal. Needless to say, it's interesting but not particularly pleasant. No matter how much I slather, the scent disappears after about ten minutes. But some time later when I least expect it, up pops a ghost of deep, dark, sweetened vanilla infused with a wealth of rich foreign spices—complex, sensual, dark, and beautiful. This belated drydown is divine but frustratingly insubstantial, only enough to catch whiffs of glorious vanilla from an uncertain source.
Verdict: I keep returning to Snake Oil, hoping that now that I've tried again, now that it's aged, it will be as miraculous as everyone else claims. Sadly, in two years it just hasn't worked out that way. I love the concept, and long for those ghostly whiffs of dark vanilla, but the oil itself is pretty unremarkable on my skin. I'll save my imp for oiling my hairstick—as that dries down, it releases more potent tendrils of that beautiful dark vanilla for days, a much more satisfying way to enjoy the scent.
(On a similar note: Boomslang, the only Snake Pit I've ever tried, also does a perfect disappearing act on my skin after ten minutes, leaving not even a whiff of Snake Oil behind.)
KUBLA KHAN (GC, Bewitching Brews)
Through sunlit caves of ice, roses unfurl amidst dancing waves of serpentine opium smoke and amber tobacco, golden sandalwood, champaca, tea leaf, sugared lily, ginger, rich hay absolute, leather, dark vanilla, mandarin, peru balsam, and Moroccan jasmine.
In the vial: A slightly bitter, golden scent which is too complex for me to pin to down notes.
On me: The bitterness fades, revealing a heart of warm amber, a touch of golden hay, a whiff of opium, and (over time) a touch of sweet smooth vanilla. But it's much more complex than that description implies—I can pick out those notes because I know them, but the scent has a well-blended, indescribable complexity. It's warm, golden but gently smoked, and slightly perfumey. The color is light gold, the throw is low, the wear length is moderate.
Verdict: I picked up Kubla Khan for my love of the poem that inspired it. The perfume is a partial match: it beautifully represents the golden facade of the pleasure dome, and the opium smoke begins to hint at its shadows, but the perfume never delves into the darkness beneath. This complex, well-blended, golden scent is a bit too perfumey for my usual tastes, but I keep my imp handy and when the mood strikes, it's lovely.
O (GC, Ars Amatoria)
The scent of sexual obsession, slavery to sensual pleasure, and the undercurrent of innocence defiled utterly. Amber and honey with a touch of vanilla.
In the vial: Sweet yet tart, and not particularly pleasant.
On me: O is almost beyond description. It is all of its parts: warm, slightly powdery, golden amber; a sweet, smooth but slightly sticky mixture of vanilla and honey. Yet it is so much more than those parts alone. The sweetness is indulgent and the honey has a distinct sexual aspect, but the base of golden resin makes the scent glow with inviting warmth and provides a dusting of gentle, soothing powder. A rich, golden, comfortable scent, O is decadent and sensual but surprisingly gentle. The color is light gold; the throw is low to medium.
Verdict: Without doubt, O is a true delight of a perfume. It's a personal favorite, easy to love, and adored by the boyfriend. It's sensual without being overtly sexual, so it's easy to wear and great for snuggling up with. There is beauty in this simplicity, and O is certainly greater than the mere sum of its parts.
Hot cocoa with cinnamon, coffee, and brown sugar.
In the vial: Mexican hot chocolate—cocoa powder, milk, and cinnamon. It's pungent and spicy but foody-sweet, dark tan in color.
On me: The pungency fades and this resolves to powdered cocoa, powdered milk, and a touch of spice and coffee. It smells like the puff of dry ingredients from a just-opened bag of brownie mix, refined but cinnamon and barest hint of coffee which make it more mature, flavorful, and slightly less foody. (The boyfriend, however, smells chocolate chip cookies.) Wear length and throw are both moderate to low; color is the same powdery pale cocoa of brownie mix.
Verdict: A bag of brownie mix may not seem like the ideal perfume, but El Dia de Reyes is unexpectedly wearable and wonderful. The powderiness creates the sense of a delicious, silky second skin; the dry cinnamon makes for a more mature, less straight up foody scent. This isn't a personal favorite, and I wish it stuck around longer, but it's a delightful, sensual, delicious scent and I enjoy my decant.
THIRTEEN (LE, Purple Label/4.13.07)
A base of cocoa absolute and white chocolate with thirteen baneful and beneficial bits: cardamom, fig meat, grains of paradise, rice flower, chamomile, sandalwood, catnip, clove, and a bundle of five blessed blossoms and herbs.
In the vial: Chocolate and dark herbs. Color is dark algae green.
On me: I once saw this described as an algae-covered fish tank, but in a good way—and, oddly enough, it is. The heart of the scent is dark, bitter chocolate—bar chocolate, not cocoa powder, but not the least bit foody. It's accompanied by dark green herbs, damp and almost rotting. They remind me distinctly of green algae, and make the scent dark and organic. Thirteen is deep, dark, unexpected, almost unnerving—but somehow delightful, in a way I can't quite explain. The oil is incredibly potent, and both the throw and wear length are strong; the color is a dark algae green shadowed by black.
Verdict: I find this scent easy to describe but impossible to convey. Chocolate and rotting herbs may seem disgusting, but Beth manages wonders. This is an intense, deep, organic scent. The scent of rotting vegetation sometimes sits on the line between disgusting and enticing; Thirteen has just crossed that line. It's cocoa without being foody, herbal but not dry, and unusual but somehow amazing. It's my favorite Thirteen, one of my favorite chocolate blends, and I cherish my imp.
SNAKE OIL (GC, Ars Amotoria)
By far, our most popular scent! Magnetic, mysterious, and exceedingly sexual in nature. A blend of exotic Indonesian oils sugared with vanilla.
My imp is aged two years.
In the vial: Thick, dark, unsweet vanilla and red musk.
On me: Snake Oil goes on as dark vanilla, dark spices, and a whiff of musk. It's not a sweet blend, initially, and the spices are the furthest thing from foody. It reminds me of the cap of an old bottle of mid-grade vanilla extract, where the extract has dried to a thick, crusty sludge, the scent is too dense to be sweet but is still somehow cloying, and the alcohol makes it smell medicinal. Needless to say, it's interesting but not particularly pleasant. No matter how much I slather, the scent disappears after about ten minutes. But some time later when I least expect it, up pops a ghost of deep, dark, sweetened vanilla infused with a wealth of rich foreign spices—complex, sensual, dark, and beautiful. This belated drydown is divine but frustratingly insubstantial, only enough to catch whiffs of glorious vanilla from an uncertain source.
Verdict: I keep returning to Snake Oil, hoping that now that I've tried again, now that it's aged, it will be as miraculous as everyone else claims. Sadly, in two years it just hasn't worked out that way. I love the concept, and long for those ghostly whiffs of dark vanilla, but the oil itself is pretty unremarkable on my skin. I'll save my imp for oiling my hairstick—as that dries down, it releases more potent tendrils of that beautiful dark vanilla for days, a much more satisfying way to enjoy the scent.
(On a similar note: Boomslang, the only Snake Pit I've ever tried, also does a perfect disappearing act on my skin after ten minutes, leaving not even a whiff of Snake Oil behind.)
KUBLA KHAN (GC, Bewitching Brews)
Through sunlit caves of ice, roses unfurl amidst dancing waves of serpentine opium smoke and amber tobacco, golden sandalwood, champaca, tea leaf, sugared lily, ginger, rich hay absolute, leather, dark vanilla, mandarin, peru balsam, and Moroccan jasmine.
In the vial: A slightly bitter, golden scent which is too complex for me to pin to down notes.
On me: The bitterness fades, revealing a heart of warm amber, a touch of golden hay, a whiff of opium, and (over time) a touch of sweet smooth vanilla. But it's much more complex than that description implies—I can pick out those notes because I know them, but the scent has a well-blended, indescribable complexity. It's warm, golden but gently smoked, and slightly perfumey. The color is light gold, the throw is low, the wear length is moderate.
Verdict: I picked up Kubla Khan for my love of the poem that inspired it. The perfume is a partial match: it beautifully represents the golden facade of the pleasure dome, and the opium smoke begins to hint at its shadows, but the perfume never delves into the darkness beneath. This complex, well-blended, golden scent is a bit too perfumey for my usual tastes, but I keep my imp handy and when the mood strikes, it's lovely.
O (GC, Ars Amatoria)
The scent of sexual obsession, slavery to sensual pleasure, and the undercurrent of innocence defiled utterly. Amber and honey with a touch of vanilla.
In the vial: Sweet yet tart, and not particularly pleasant.
On me: O is almost beyond description. It is all of its parts: warm, slightly powdery, golden amber; a sweet, smooth but slightly sticky mixture of vanilla and honey. Yet it is so much more than those parts alone. The sweetness is indulgent and the honey has a distinct sexual aspect, but the base of golden resin makes the scent glow with inviting warmth and provides a dusting of gentle, soothing powder. A rich, golden, comfortable scent, O is decadent and sensual but surprisingly gentle. The color is light gold; the throw is low to medium.
Verdict: Without doubt, O is a true delight of a perfume. It's a personal favorite, easy to love, and adored by the boyfriend. It's sensual without being overtly sexual, so it's easy to wear and great for snuggling up with. There is beauty in this simplicity, and O is certainly greater than the mere sum of its parts.
