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rushthatspeaksReally, the most interesting thing that has happened today that is fit for public consumption was testing perfume. I need a new job, I do, for this one has stopped fatiguing me with the amount of work and started fatiguing me with the amount of boredom, indicating that I may wish to seek employment of the slightly less part-time variety. Time to go check the local bookstores.
O
Lab Description: The scent of sexual obsession, slavery to sensual pleasure, and the undercurrent of innocence defiled utterly. Amber and honey with a touch of vanilla. (Heh. Not a direct mention of the book in sight, but positively dripping in allusions. Wonder why?)
Vial: Sweet! This really is exactly like opening a jar of honey, except that the scent of honey isn't usually so... propulsive. This is one of those scents that hangs in the air of the room, lurking, for days and days, so that it may confuse people who haven't a clue what the smell is. Well, except that honey is pretty recognizable. I'm not sure what kind of honey, precisely; possibly a blend of several varieties, because the sheer sugar content reminds me of a clover honey left to crystallize, while the undertones and sheer volume indicate something darker such as orangeflower or buckwheat. Or the darker bits could be the amber. I haven't a clue what amber smells like. I'm used to thinking of it as a jewel, not as a scent. Vanilla not making itself evident, which is just as well, as I am not overly fond. This one has about a fifty-fifty chance on me, as I guesstimate that it will either be absolutely lovely or far too sweet to deal with.
Wet: Something in here has gone violently sharp, raw, and biting. The hell? I'm not worried about too sweet anymore; now I'm pretty certain of the opposite. It's like rubbing alcohol or spray disinfectant, and there was absolutely no trace of it in the vial. My skin chemistry is weird, yo.
Drydown: As it dries, it's doing a peculiar distance-effect sort of thing-- far out, in the air around my body, it's developing into a lovely mellow not-too-sweet version of the vial scent, but the sharpness clings to the areas I actually applied the scent (both wrists and cleavage). The longer I wait, the more the sharp areas shrink. At about fifteen minutes, they've reduced themselves to about three inches around the application sites, and there they sit, leading to the odd sensation of knowing that everyone else will like the scent, and that I like the scent if I lean into the air surrounding my personal space, but that if I actually sniff my wrists or nod my head there will be Badness. Maybe I shouldn't put this one in the cleavage. We'll see if it mellows any further.
Later: This has staying power, which means that it is fortunate that the sharpness does go. Mind you, it took it four hours to fade entirely, but since it is presently about thirteen hours, several different kinds of violent exercise, one change of clothes and a shower from application and that lovely mellow honey is still perfectly present, I think I'm not going to be too annoyed. Dry, it definitely contains something not-honey, which I assume is the amber because the vanilla seems to have evaporated into the aether, and I can best describe that as smokey, dry, and golden, with an undertone of not-quite-pepper. I like it and it goes well with the honey. I like the whole scent, actually, and will keep the imp, though I'm not sure about a bottle, because wearing it to the bakery today almost killed me of sugar shock. Do not wear honey scents around fresh pastry. Just don't. We're talking actual nausea from the sweet. I don't hold it against the scent because it was my own damn fault, but I don't see being able to wear this very often until I change jobs, so a bottle might not be practical for a while.
Ruth said she's going to try this one, and I look forward to smelling it on her. The boy liked it. The cats looked very confused and poked around me looking for the bread product which they knew had to be around somewhere and hoped to snag in a surreptitious fashion. I laughed at them.
In conclusion: yes.
O
Lab Description: The scent of sexual obsession, slavery to sensual pleasure, and the undercurrent of innocence defiled utterly. Amber and honey with a touch of vanilla. (Heh. Not a direct mention of the book in sight, but positively dripping in allusions. Wonder why?)
Vial: Sweet! This really is exactly like opening a jar of honey, except that the scent of honey isn't usually so... propulsive. This is one of those scents that hangs in the air of the room, lurking, for days and days, so that it may confuse people who haven't a clue what the smell is. Well, except that honey is pretty recognizable. I'm not sure what kind of honey, precisely; possibly a blend of several varieties, because the sheer sugar content reminds me of a clover honey left to crystallize, while the undertones and sheer volume indicate something darker such as orangeflower or buckwheat. Or the darker bits could be the amber. I haven't a clue what amber smells like. I'm used to thinking of it as a jewel, not as a scent. Vanilla not making itself evident, which is just as well, as I am not overly fond. This one has about a fifty-fifty chance on me, as I guesstimate that it will either be absolutely lovely or far too sweet to deal with.
Wet: Something in here has gone violently sharp, raw, and biting. The hell? I'm not worried about too sweet anymore; now I'm pretty certain of the opposite. It's like rubbing alcohol or spray disinfectant, and there was absolutely no trace of it in the vial. My skin chemistry is weird, yo.
Drydown: As it dries, it's doing a peculiar distance-effect sort of thing-- far out, in the air around my body, it's developing into a lovely mellow not-too-sweet version of the vial scent, but the sharpness clings to the areas I actually applied the scent (both wrists and cleavage). The longer I wait, the more the sharp areas shrink. At about fifteen minutes, they've reduced themselves to about three inches around the application sites, and there they sit, leading to the odd sensation of knowing that everyone else will like the scent, and that I like the scent if I lean into the air surrounding my personal space, but that if I actually sniff my wrists or nod my head there will be Badness. Maybe I shouldn't put this one in the cleavage. We'll see if it mellows any further.
Later: This has staying power, which means that it is fortunate that the sharpness does go. Mind you, it took it four hours to fade entirely, but since it is presently about thirteen hours, several different kinds of violent exercise, one change of clothes and a shower from application and that lovely mellow honey is still perfectly present, I think I'm not going to be too annoyed. Dry, it definitely contains something not-honey, which I assume is the amber because the vanilla seems to have evaporated into the aether, and I can best describe that as smokey, dry, and golden, with an undertone of not-quite-pepper. I like it and it goes well with the honey. I like the whole scent, actually, and will keep the imp, though I'm not sure about a bottle, because wearing it to the bakery today almost killed me of sugar shock. Do not wear honey scents around fresh pastry. Just don't. We're talking actual nausea from the sweet. I don't hold it against the scent because it was my own damn fault, but I don't see being able to wear this very often until I change jobs, so a bottle might not be practical for a while.
Ruth said she's going to try this one, and I look forward to smelling it on her. The boy liked it. The cats looked very confused and poked around me looking for the bread product which they knew had to be around somewhere and hoped to snag in a surreptitious fashion. I laughed at them.
In conclusion: yes.
