Casablanca

The Last Unicorn is iconic and inspirational, so I wanted to sample it. But many of the notes aren't as much my thing, so I didn't expect to love it like I do. When I first opened the decant, I didn't remember the notes, but I assumed they would be cool lilac and orris and such. You know. Unicorny things. And I just smelled... chocolate? A slightly floral chocolate? Saywutnow. But on my skin it transforms into something delightful and quite different from many other blends. A little wave of creamy white chocolate, then a fresh, dewy, sweet witch's garden of lettuce and greens, cool coconut shreds, white orris, touches of purple lilac and iris. On my skin I smell sweet, fresh lettuce as the standout note, with everything else a supporting swirl of creamy white and purple. It reminds me a lot of the fresh witch's garden feeling of Blue Moon, with its lettuce, cucumber, and green tea, but with a lot of creamy white background. The orris does lean toward powder for me, as it often does, and I think violet is adding a bit of an aged vibe I don't usually go in for. But I love the fresh lettuce and creamy aspect, so this might become a bottle.

On the wand and on my skin, this comes out as potent lilac, some green grass, and a little whiff of... blue musk? Bluebell flowers? Blue evening breezes and shadows. On me, this is mostly about the lilac from start to finish, but I enjoy the evening vibe surrounding that.

The Butterfly reminds me of the Lab's Genius Loci butterflies: a blend of notes that read as a bit quirky and off the track, but somehow naturalistic. Fresh on my skin, this brings lots of fuzzy, dusty brown tonka and a fizzy orange tang from the bergamot and petitgrain. The nutmeg adds a brown spice and some extra quirk, and amber is a smooth background presence. The overall impression is of a brown and orange butterfly flapping by and leaving wisps of brown and orange powder in her wake. This one lives hours on my skin, much longer than most blends survive on me.

Scorched oak and a gentle tobacco with a tone of an almost butterscotchy vanilla ... Mmm. Scorched and butterscotched! Strongly evocative of a mood and scene, this smells like a classic and timeless wood-paneled study of an individual with highly refined (and specific) tastes. Golden-blond wood with dark wood accents, a Victorian sepia-colored globe, an antique and unused cigar dish, late afternoon light slanting in between heavy earth-toned drapes to illuminate dust motes drifting in the air... I like it. It matures on my skin into more of the butterscotch tone over time, a refined butterscotch wood.

If a country-bramble witch made sugary treats for kids, the treats might smell like this. Caramelly sugar over stove-warmed blackberries. Nom. (Love it.)

Brown saddle leather dominates, cinnamon supports. This was cozy and homey and welcoming on my friend's skin. On my skin, it went full tack shop, right out of my horse-riding youth, with a little spice.

Much more the driftwood than the orange flower on me, this one is mostly salt and parched wood. The citrus sweetens the blend with a little levity and the warmth of spring. I liked this, but it was too salty, and then gone from my skin in 10 minutes.

Rice Milk and Mango is, as others have said, more the milk than the mango. Delicate rice milk wafts up, just warmed and made spring-like by a little glow of golden fruit. Pretty and I would bottle this if I didn't still have the rice milk with pear in a bottle of Kitten with a Shamisen.

It is what it says it is. Floral and floral. The balance is skin chemistry-dependent: It came out about even honeysuckle and wisteria on me, but mostly honeysuckle on my friend.

Rich, round, sultry dark amber with a lovely sugary edge. Gorgeous amber, though perfumey. I'm really all about the sugar. I want to hug it. Amber rules this space, though. This is one for the amber lovers and the sugar-friendly.

I got this because I wanted to smell osmanthus more isolated than it usually appears, and this one delivers on that. The flower reads to me like a mix of mimosa, orchid, apricot, mango, and citrus: full, sunny, and fruity. I don't notice other notes.

Bright, mossy-green bamboo musk. The green is bright, but not strong -- the sillage is fairly close to the skin. I think this must share some notes with Emerald Lace; I'm reminded of the greenness in that one, but this almost leans aquatic rather than having EL's vanilla-tobacco-cognac thing. In drydown, most of the scent fades out. There's a wisp of dried grassy moss, maybe?

I initially passed over this out of fear of poud. Then I blind-bottled it based on earlier reviews, and they were right -- this is not the dread poud. 😅 This is not the tart blackberry I've gotten from some blends. Instead, this one is quite sweet. Sugary, actually. When this first arrived, the oud was a pleasant woody one. I still get some woodiness, but also some of the inkiness mentioned earlier. I love this. Sugary, blackberry ink woods. It's delightfully fay and between-the-worlds.

I received this as a frottle from a lovely decanter and I’m enjoying it, even out of season. At about 9 years old, Pumpkin I sits on me as heavy pumpkin generously spiced with cinnamon and warmed with hay and champaca. It’s easy to picture a candle-glow warmth to this blend, like a light in a jack-o’-lantern. The leather is absent. Really, this is straight up, simple Halloween. I’m okay with this.

A curious blend. The white mint is prominent, and a bit candied, like a fine version of an after-dinner mint. It's quite odd at first in this mix of notes, but as the perfume blends and settles, it becomes part of a greater whole. That greater whole, though, is like a milky, minty, fruity breakfast cereal? I mean. I can pick out the mint, smoke, tuberose, red musk, and a perfumey sort of chypre, but my brain is putting them together and saying breakfast cereal.