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BPAL Reviews: Seraphim, The Twisted Oak Tree, French Love, Dance of Death, Jólasveinar
SERAPHIM (GC, Sin & Salvation)
A perfume sacred to the highest of the angelic hosts: calla lily, wisteria, white sandalwood, Damascus rose and frankincense.
In the vial: Floral, mostly lily. Potent, but pale.
On me: Oppressive fleshy mostly-white florals, with just a touch of death rose—this is a pink/white version, not a screaming red, but rose tends to be a universal death note on my skin. There may be a touch of sandalwood and/or frankincense in the background, giving this some incense-variety spice. With wear the rose amps, no surprise here. It's still a pink/white rose, a lesser of evils compared to the atrocity that red rose becomes on my skin, but nonetheless it verges on single note. With the touch of incense spice in the background, it's reminiscent of Lucy's Kiss.
Verdict: Seraphim isn't to my taste to begin with, but it would never work on me given my skin's enormous ability to amp rose notes. I washed this off and obviously don't need it.
THE TWISTED OAK TREE (LE, Halloweenies: The Haunted House 2007)
Blackened, rotted oak wood blanketed in moss and choked by a cloak of grasping ivy.
A gift from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sisterite.
In the vial: Pale woods with a hint of greenery.
On me: The greenery amps when it hits the skin—not a fresh green, but not quite rotten or choking either; it's living, thriving, ancient plants—and during drydown, this reminds me of Oblivion sans saffron: old, living greenery, calm but powerful, not quite oppressive but occasionally threatening. Post-drydown, moss comes to the forefront with an almost fuzzy texture and sweater-like warmth. This ends up as a warm, soft, barely powdery and even less sweet scent of mossy golden wood which is lovely on the whole—but there are still hints of something bitter and threatening on the edges, which taints the scent but brings it closer to its inspiration. Scent color is a luminescent olive green. Throw is moderate low.
Verdict: For better or worse I get nothing black or rotting here, but that doesn't mean that The Twisted Oak Tree completely abandons its dark inspiration. I wonder if it should, though. The moss-heavy, golden woods final stage of this blend is often gorgeous and comforting while maintaining adhering to its wild, organic origins, but the bitterness that haunts the edges never quite settles out and, frankly, it's disconcerting. An interesting scent, and one I'm glad to have tried; I'll test it again to see if my opinions change, but for now I think this errs just on the wrong side of unwearable. Certainly an intriguing blend, though.
FRENCH LOVE (GC, Bewitching Brews: The Conjure Bag)
A warm, soft, sexual blend. Sweet and alluring. Used to entice new lovers and add an aura of temptation and carnal sin to your environment.
In the vial: Spicy dragon's blood.
On me: Primarily herbal. There's an occasional touch of hot dry spice, probably cinnamon, and an even rarer hint of sweetness, but this is herbs overall: potent, dry, mildly bitter. Hardly indistinct, but not particularly robust either, and doesn't much morph or grow once it hits the skin. Scent-color is a dusty green. Throw is low.
Verdict: French Love does just about nothing for me, but then out of the vial I don't get any of the dragon's blood, etc. as reported by others. Nor am I particularly attached to this scent's intended purpose. I washed it off, and won't keep my imp.
DANCE OF DEATH (GC, Ars Moriendi)
A gloriously elegant representation of Lady Death. Dry, bone-white orris, black musk, serpentine patchouli and our murkiest myrrh.
A gift fromsisterite.
In the vial: A dry white scent with—I'd swear—a touch of vetiver.
On me: Black musk as it hits the skin, dry and sharp as pepper. There may be some patchouli here, but it really feels like vetiver—perhaps the myrrh is just that dark. Dries down to a dry, harsh, incredibly beautiful scent. I still get black pepper and vetiver, but that may be a reflection of the scent's texture rather than its notes. The black musk is potent, but pristinely dark rather than animalistic. It's a surprisingly straightforward and stable scent, but its bold harshness is far from simplistic. The catch is that it fades to a white pepper-ish pale dry spice within 1.5 hours, and is all but gone by 2.5 hours. Scent-color is smoky monochrome. Throw is moderate, and wear length is short.
Verdict: I'm not sure what magic makes Dance of Death so beautiful in the midst of its intense harshness—this isn't an innocuousness, palatable scent, but it is striking, proud, and intensely lovely. It's a disappointment then that it has such a short wear-length, but the fact that the scent is so stable—with a straightforward drydown and no real morphing—may be its saving grace, because it could easily be reapplied. I still prefer scents with more staying power, so I may not reach for this often. But I will keep it around.
JÓLASVEINAR (LE, Yule 2010)
Their scent is a mishmash of snow, dirt, Icelandic moss, marsh felwort, and the smushed petals of buttercups and moorland spotted orchids, with the barest hint of the scent of pilfered Christmas pastries.
Won fromcrystal_star_ss
In the vial: A cologne/aquatic take on snow, with a touch of backing florals.
On the skin: Potent, headache-inducing drugstore cologne as it hits the skin, but that dies off in drydown. I get a surprising amount of florals from Jólasveinar. They're cool florals, leaning towards masculine, a touch outdoorsy. For the first half of wear the sweetness of the pastries nudges the scent towards traditional; as the sweetness dies down the florals persist, snow-touched but full bodied, primarily orchid. The coolness occasionally presents as cologney and aquatic, and fails to be convincing as a result. Throw is moderate low, wear-length is moderate low.
Verdict: On one hand, pine is one of my death notes and, while others get it, it doesn't show up on my skin—a welcome reprieve. On the other, all I really get from Jólasveinar is florals. Occasionally they're wintery outdoor florals, and their lean towards masculine/neutral is refreshing, but for the most part they're not particularly interesting or unique, and there's not enough of the other notes—dirt and moss would be particularly welcome—to balance them out. This is a scent for the swap pile.
A perfume sacred to the highest of the angelic hosts: calla lily, wisteria, white sandalwood, Damascus rose and frankincense.
In the vial: Floral, mostly lily. Potent, but pale.
On me: Oppressive fleshy mostly-white florals, with just a touch of death rose—this is a pink/white version, not a screaming red, but rose tends to be a universal death note on my skin. There may be a touch of sandalwood and/or frankincense in the background, giving this some incense-variety spice. With wear the rose amps, no surprise here. It's still a pink/white rose, a lesser of evils compared to the atrocity that red rose becomes on my skin, but nonetheless it verges on single note. With the touch of incense spice in the background, it's reminiscent of Lucy's Kiss.
Verdict: Seraphim isn't to my taste to begin with, but it would never work on me given my skin's enormous ability to amp rose notes. I washed this off and obviously don't need it.
THE TWISTED OAK TREE (LE, Halloweenies: The Haunted House 2007)
Blackened, rotted oak wood blanketed in moss and choked by a cloak of grasping ivy.
A gift from
sisterite.In the vial: Pale woods with a hint of greenery.
On me: The greenery amps when it hits the skin—not a fresh green, but not quite rotten or choking either; it's living, thriving, ancient plants—and during drydown, this reminds me of Oblivion sans saffron: old, living greenery, calm but powerful, not quite oppressive but occasionally threatening. Post-drydown, moss comes to the forefront with an almost fuzzy texture and sweater-like warmth. This ends up as a warm, soft, barely powdery and even less sweet scent of mossy golden wood which is lovely on the whole—but there are still hints of something bitter and threatening on the edges, which taints the scent but brings it closer to its inspiration. Scent color is a luminescent olive green. Throw is moderate low.
Verdict: For better or worse I get nothing black or rotting here, but that doesn't mean that The Twisted Oak Tree completely abandons its dark inspiration. I wonder if it should, though. The moss-heavy, golden woods final stage of this blend is often gorgeous and comforting while maintaining adhering to its wild, organic origins, but the bitterness that haunts the edges never quite settles out and, frankly, it's disconcerting. An interesting scent, and one I'm glad to have tried; I'll test it again to see if my opinions change, but for now I think this errs just on the wrong side of unwearable. Certainly an intriguing blend, though.
FRENCH LOVE (GC, Bewitching Brews: The Conjure Bag)
A warm, soft, sexual blend. Sweet and alluring. Used to entice new lovers and add an aura of temptation and carnal sin to your environment.
In the vial: Spicy dragon's blood.
On me: Primarily herbal. There's an occasional touch of hot dry spice, probably cinnamon, and an even rarer hint of sweetness, but this is herbs overall: potent, dry, mildly bitter. Hardly indistinct, but not particularly robust either, and doesn't much morph or grow once it hits the skin. Scent-color is a dusty green. Throw is low.
Verdict: French Love does just about nothing for me, but then out of the vial I don't get any of the dragon's blood, etc. as reported by others. Nor am I particularly attached to this scent's intended purpose. I washed it off, and won't keep my imp.
DANCE OF DEATH (GC, Ars Moriendi)
A gloriously elegant representation of Lady Death. Dry, bone-white orris, black musk, serpentine patchouli and our murkiest myrrh.
A gift from
sisterite.In the vial: A dry white scent with—I'd swear—a touch of vetiver.
On me: Black musk as it hits the skin, dry and sharp as pepper. There may be some patchouli here, but it really feels like vetiver—perhaps the myrrh is just that dark. Dries down to a dry, harsh, incredibly beautiful scent. I still get black pepper and vetiver, but that may be a reflection of the scent's texture rather than its notes. The black musk is potent, but pristinely dark rather than animalistic. It's a surprisingly straightforward and stable scent, but its bold harshness is far from simplistic. The catch is that it fades to a white pepper-ish pale dry spice within 1.5 hours, and is all but gone by 2.5 hours. Scent-color is smoky monochrome. Throw is moderate, and wear length is short.
Verdict: I'm not sure what magic makes Dance of Death so beautiful in the midst of its intense harshness—this isn't an innocuousness, palatable scent, but it is striking, proud, and intensely lovely. It's a disappointment then that it has such a short wear-length, but the fact that the scent is so stable—with a straightforward drydown and no real morphing—may be its saving grace, because it could easily be reapplied. I still prefer scents with more staying power, so I may not reach for this often. But I will keep it around.
JÓLASVEINAR (LE, Yule 2010)
Their scent is a mishmash of snow, dirt, Icelandic moss, marsh felwort, and the smushed petals of buttercups and moorland spotted orchids, with the barest hint of the scent of pilfered Christmas pastries.
Won from
crystal_star_ssIn the vial: A cologne/aquatic take on snow, with a touch of backing florals.
On the skin: Potent, headache-inducing drugstore cologne as it hits the skin, but that dies off in drydown. I get a surprising amount of florals from Jólasveinar. They're cool florals, leaning towards masculine, a touch outdoorsy. For the first half of wear the sweetness of the pastries nudges the scent towards traditional; as the sweetness dies down the florals persist, snow-touched but full bodied, primarily orchid. The coolness occasionally presents as cologney and aquatic, and fails to be convincing as a result. Throw is moderate low, wear-length is moderate low.
Verdict: On one hand, pine is one of my death notes and, while others get it, it doesn't show up on my skin—a welcome reprieve. On the other, all I really get from Jólasveinar is florals. Occasionally they're wintery outdoor florals, and their lean towards masculine/neutral is refreshing, but for the most part they're not particularly interesting or unique, and there's not enough of the other notes—dirt and moss would be particularly welcome—to balance them out. This is a scent for the swap pile.