$4.60 – $19.75
Devilishly playful: white peach, amber, golden musk and patchouli.
PERFUME OIL BLENDS
Presented in an amber apothecary vial.
– September 18, 2017
I thought I would not like this one because of the patchouli in it. I was so wrong! This is a pleasant blend of fruit, musk and more of a resin smell than out and out patchouli. I only have an imp of Imp. I may need to order a bottle!
– September 26, 2016
This is my go-to fruity patchouli scent. I love everything about it and feel fortunate that there’s such a great peach-patchouli scent in the General Catalogue.
– September 9, 2015
In the imp: Mostly peach, amber, musk, and then the patchouli note.
Wet: The white peach note is the most prominent at first. I recognize this peach note from the Trading Post’s White Peach and Incense hair gloss. I can smell all of the notes, but the musk and patchouli notes are getting stronger the more this sits on my skin. As the scent begins to dry down, it is becoming darker (and less sweet) as the amber and patchouli become more prominent.
Dry: The patchouli is the dominant note in this stage. The amber note adds more depth, and the peach and musk aren’t nearly as strong as they were before.
Verdict: I’m going to be passing on my imp. The peach and musk combo is too sweet for me, and while I have grown to like patchouli in a few scents (like Banshee Beat/Revenant Rhythm and Vixen), I’m not particularly fond of the type in this blend. It is very strong on me, and I had to try scrubbing it off several times before the scent finally went away.
– July 16, 2014
I love Imp.
Once I discovered this scent, it became my go-to, everyday, everything scent.
It’s a perfect, playful combination of peaches and amber and musk with that patchouli playing around the amber.
Even thought it’s peaches, it’s not a juvenile scent at all, imo. The amber and musk make it more knowing…. a bit playfully sly. And keeping that sense of fun, I think it helps make me more productive. It certainly makes my day brighter.
– June 27, 2014
the top note was way too strongbut then it’s settled into the beautiful phase of patachouli and musk..I guess that is the peach that bit me….like an imp!
You must be logged in to post a review.
Vast talons, foul with human flesh, there grew
In place of hands, and features livid blue
Glar’d in her visage; while the obscene waist
Warm skins of human victims close embraced.
The blue faced hag of the British Hills. She lives in the Dane Hills, Leicestershire, in a cave called Black Annis’ Bower Close, which she dug out of rock with her own iron-strong claws. Dozens of huge cats prowl the Bower with her, and it is guarded by a great pollarded oak in which she hides so that she may catch lambs and small children to eat. She carries her victims back to her cave, where she flays them alive before devouring them. She drapes their skins on her guardian oak to dry. Her skirt is fashioned from the skins of her prey, and her bed is a high-piled bed of their bones.
Black Annis’ perfume is a mixture of damp cave lichen and oak leaf with a hint of vetiver, civet and anise.
We’ve finally caved in to years of requests for vampiric scents.
As soft as grave dust and as dry as a breath drawn within a long forgotten crypt, this is Nosferatu: desiccated herbs and gritty earth brought to life with a swell of robust and sanguineous red wines.
An ancient, free-willed race created from the essence of Fire, much as man was created from Earth. They prowled the land at night, vanishing with the first rays of dawn. Myths surrounding the Djinn paint them as many things: benevolent champions of mankind and slaves to mad sorcerers, malicious incubi / succubi and energy vampires, or malevolent harbingers of madness and disease. The Djinn are ruled by Iblis, the Prince of Darkness, who bears unspeakable contempt for man.
The scent of black smoke, of crackling flames, and smoldering ashes.
From livid skies that, without end,
As stormy as your future roll,
What thoughts into your empty soul
(Answer me, libertine!) descend?
– Insatiable yet for all
That turns on darkness, doom, or dice,
I’ll not, like Ovid, mourn my fall,
Chased from the Latin paradise.
Skies, torn like seacoasts by the storm!
In you I see my pride take form,
And the huge clouds that rush in streams
Are the black hearses of my dreams,
And your red rays reflect the hell,
In which my heart is pleased to dwell.
The perfume of a hellbound soul, gleefully lost to iniquity: blood musk, golden honey, thick black wine, champagne grapes, tobacco flower, plum blossom, tonka bean, oakmoss, carnation, benzoin, opoponax, and sugar cane.