Cherry vanilla ice cream, artificially flavored and freezer burnt, and awesome.
Opens with a room filling puff of mimosa and ylang-ylang, but with just enough herbal citrus to keep from slipping into banana peel territory. Fifteen minutes later and the heliotrope takes over with powdery synthetic almonds, musk and vanilla, worthy of a Lolita Lempicka flanker if it were faceted rather than creamy. Melts to the skin after three hours, and stays there with dusty soft-serve woods through the evening.
Cheap and chic but sweet and nostalgia inducing, like a slow club remix of a favorite song.
Delight is quite nice, with tropical sweet flowers that settle to a good ’70’s funky green jasmine. I get a pinch of gourmand spice, though none are listed–maybe the bottom notes of the rose?–that makes it modern and feminine and fun.
A single drop fades to the skin in two hours, but lasts on fabric for days. This might be the most mainstream fashion, blind-buy-safe blend from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab that I’ve sniffed so far. I’d rec it to anyone who loves Estée Lauder flower showers but has a reaction to the woody musk on the bottom.
Delightful song with some retro funk and modern sweetness.
Toasted caramel, baked berries and vanilla cream. A hit of roses keeps it from being too cloying.
It’s a step above a Yankee Candle Bakewell Tart, but one I’d put in the Scentsy warmer rather than wear.
Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab blends are hit or miss for me–but the quality of the oils is always good.
Mint juleps–sugary booze and spearmint–with a solid wood note on the bottom.
Becomes a skin scent quickly, but lingers louder on clothes.
It’s got some of the XY gene of Eros and Bleu de Chanel, but with an organic softness that makes me nostalgic for the head shop that sold the best handmade candles and always played B.B. King albums.
The scent might be too simple to represent the complex history of the barrelhouses of the South that gave birth to the blues–but there’s an earthy sweetness to it that I’d enjoy on a guy with a good voice.
Spiritual Sky oils are an iconic staple of head shops and non-profit food co-ops everywhere–Strawberry, Rose and China Rain are on the altar of every wicca-chick from the East Village to Haight Ashbury.
Cheap and artificial and easily scrubbable, they are the washable kid’s markers of perfumery.
Dragon’s Blood is a resinous dark musk with some wannabe myrrh, sweetened with benzoin. Great fun for a young changeling on a pagan exploration.