Casablanca

Nice. From this Onesie, I get a chalky-pale vanilla-cognac note mingling with clean fabric-laundry.

The early chalky texture I find seems almost like a porcelain or marble note (could it be bone?), but the texture smooths out quickly. Mixed with that is a vanilla that smells antique, like one of the vanilla-cognac laces, and faintly sweet.

I don't have Pediophobia to compare, but at least for me, and before this is longer rested than a day, this one is in that spooky family. I'm testing a friend's bottle, but I'd be happy, too, if it were mine. 

This is pretty. Freshly applied on me, it's mainly a fruity orange-strawberry blend against a complex vegetal background.

Pomegranate, plum, and currants creep out in drydown, and this veers deeply into dark-red-fruits territory. I suspect this is mostly from Mme Moriarty, but I've never tried that one.

Once dried, this just goes full heavy fruits. But I'm enjoying this deep fruitiness with, for me, largely unidentifiable plant hints now and then.

Freshly applied, for a few seconds, this is a non-cologney (and a bit richer) dead leaves bell pepper... then boom. Amber and lavender Snek Oil. For a brief phase, the blend offers things sweet, dark, a little lavender-herbal, and a little bell peppery.

The distant fires are distant. I can sense them as traces of cinder and smoke, but nothing too punchy in the snoot.

Dorian pokes his head in only after this dries. I'm not sure how to describe his effect on the blend, other than to say it gets more nuanced or involved, but doesn't overwhelm.

Columns is smooth and atmospheric: dried and drying grasses around sun-baked stone. Probably one of the more prominent stony scents I've tried in a while.

During drying, I notice a little swampiness from the cypress, the Mediterranean vibe of olive leaves, and dry, powdery incense.

This does evoke an ancient Greek temple. 

Jasmine, as she tends to do, grabs all the attention at this pool. She's draped in an open-weave beach wrap of blue musk, and wearing a swimsuit with a few shy peonies on it --- as if that has anything to do with her nature. She's rather shrill, but thankfully not indolic. (No pee in the pool.)

With a little hunting, I find the vanilla tea, but lavender didn't make the party.

This is a cool-toned jasmine musk for jasmine lovers.

Floral honey predominates this Deed, as others have noted. For a while, this is Wildflower Honey SN on me... which kind of tempts me to bottle!

The redness from the labdanum does creep through, however. In drydown, the weighty sweetness of this honey starts to settle, and a more ponderous redness starts to glow through its veil, like red lighting behind a stage-set scrim.

A bit later, I also notice the bourbon vanilla, blended and almost completely merged with the honey. Honey has to recede on this stage before vanilla has a chance at the spotlight. I can imagine this balance will change with some age.

An unexpected beauty.

I haven't been as often into musk blends, but this one reads as fresh and lovely. Soft, misty lavender and pear float over amber cream, dreamy and somehow almost clean in their freshness. The mistiness combines with the herbal chamomile, lavender and pear to bring a spa-like vibe that I'm more or less in love with.

The musk gives this blend more staying power while not interfering too much with the serene spa atmosphere.

Enjoying this one.

Summer Rain has been variable on me day to day. It sometimes sits and dries on me mostly as new-fallen raindrops, sometimes more as herbs and rocky cement.

This morning it's more of the latter, at first appearing with an airy, barely-coconut note that tapers off as quickly as steam rising from hot, rain-wet pavement. The lavender is quiet, even subdued, and blends well into the herbs --- which themselves smell to me like assorted herbs thrown in with a few tenacious cement-crack dandelions.

As a Philly girl, I love this as an idea of the summer storms here.

Up front, Juicebox is warm honeyed chocolate made a tiny bit earthy with brown figs. 

The hazelnuts come out more upon drying, and become the more forward note on me, with the figgy honey (and a faint chocolate) becoming more of a background. I notice some cakeyness during this time, too, but hazelnuts are still out in front. That said, the whole perfume is pretty soft at this point.

Cozy. Foodie. Brown.

Dad Makeup throws out soft clouds of Earl Grey-like bergamot perfume when freshly applied on me. The clouds drift forward over a backdrop of skin-soft, slightly creamy honey; after a moment, I can find the marshmallow as well, also lingering close to the skin.

The dried scent chills out on the perfume thing. By then, the blend somehow instead gives off a mellow, clean vibe. It smells like I'm a half-hour out of the shower, all dried off but still carrying traces of some pretty, mildly creamy vanilla (and slightly bergamot-herbal) shower gel.

I like it.

Sweet white honeyed vanilla cream and floofy marshmallow stand out innocently enough, not quite betrayed of evil intent by an undercurrent (under currant?) of currants and a mild, musky clove.

This one's sugary innocence casts behind it an opium-like darkness. Under this pale, candy-like cloak of honeyed vanilla poof lurks a darker side that reminds me of Sugar, Poppy Tar, and Red Currant, if anything... But the overall and most forward impression remains sweet throughout its wear on my skin.

Green-mossy cedar and patchouli, and something a little odd... which mellows and improves over time and seems to shape into the cade.

Earth mother vibe, though a bit swampy or muddy on my skin.

Sugared clove against a curtain of amber musk. 

In the realm of both Black Amber and Sugarcane, and Luke 10:25-37. Love this sugary spice.

A blast of bitter green wild grasses sounds right. There's a raw, unauthored quality to this: as though a stray hiker found a little-touched, overgrown, and thoroughly overlooked area and opted to spend the day there, maybe sketching, even though it's not what would ever make a brochure or most people's ideas of idyllic nature. It simply is, as it grew, sculpted by the courses of wind and sun and the nourishment of sandy soils.

In drydown, the bitterness and greenness subside, and whiffs of powdery orris emerge. I never notice other notes.

Soothing, frothy waves wash up on my skin --- that's how this one smells on me. I'm seated on gray stones long washed smooth by the timeless flowing tides, and the water washes up and down against the rocks, against me, limning us both in salt and pearlescent froth and mineral seawater.

In drydown, I find a lovely, breathy vanilla, which is where the pearlescent quality seems to arise from. There might be a whiff of white rose in it, also; at least, I'm not finding other rose. This pearly vanilla is beautiful, and luring me in like a Siren. (Also a Girl at the Beach...)

The linen and general airiness of the scent leave it clean, and the balance of notes is thoughtful and delicate. The salt remains present throughout, though it never overwhelms --- partly because I'm attending more to this pearl note.

Aquatics aren't a common purchase or reach for me, but this may be the prettiest one I've sampled in a while. I'm likely to bring in a bottle if I can afford it.

As you might expect, there's a lot going on for this July eve. This perfume is honestly such an odd olfactory circus swirl that it's tempting to sort of hold up my hands and walk away from review writing, but I'll try.

I mentioned a circus. This one brings to my mind an imagined 19th-century one: cymbals crashing, horns blaring, garish masks and spinning tumblers and dancing monkeys and hawking announcers and trinket peddlers. I can pick out these notes from among the imaginary 5-cent booths: lemon, violet, herbs that may include oregano and mugwort, apples, and lilac and something inky and murky. Sometimes, there's a general impression of "candied," as though some of these thingies are sold at faire booths in that sugared state --- that's part of where this mind-picture arises from for me.

Candied herbal red currants and apples are what seem to steal the show for me eventually... That's where this dries to.

A kitchen-sink notes list (everything and the kitchen sink) can probably venture many directions for many people; this Hall of Mirrors awaits its next subject to reflect.

Warm bread! Honey cakes! (And oh, there's fennel!)

Those are the initial thoughts on applying this, and also "It's uber-harvesty."

Along with general grain feels, I find a lot of baked bread and some honey cakes. The fennel is a little black-peppery in tone, and otherwise just like dried whole fennel seed in a seasoning jar. (I love throwing them on pizza.) I love herbs in fragrances, so I'm happy to smell this here.

The honey cakes are short-lived on me; by the time this dries, it's almost entirely warm-baked bread, with a smear of melted butter.

Huh.

I'm going through my friend's decants here, just applying and writing impressions. I throw this on last, with no mental projection first of how these notes might play together. All this to say... I didn't picture anything, but if I had, this probably wouldn't have been it.

LTV is soft on me, but what I get is faintly leathery, and definitely salty, mostly clean skin sweat. I picture the soft leather cover of a journal stained from being held too long on a hot day, or soft brown leather stained with sweat from fighting in it, but none of this smells body odory, just salty.

Salty, mildly sweat-stained (but clean) leather.

"Heavy honey" is my first thought on applying this one. Then the dragon's blood resolves out of some of that weight or gravitas, and with him comes a cloud of not smoke, but musk. Lots of musk. Here there be dragons who breathe musk.

Copal joins the party, too, hanging back a bit against the wall, but just with a "Hey," now and then. He always has a sacred feel, and is quiet in his connection to the universe... but also darkly wood-grainy and badass.

This one is not for me, but it is interesting: a heavy and sweet honey coating a musk-breathing, red-resinous dragon, and his badass but sacred wooden rider.

Lush golden apples, freshly cut and juicy, with frankincense adrift in the background. This could be the aroma of the apples left to entice and distract Atalanta from winning her race --- they would certainly distract me.

Amber doesn't stand out on its own for me here, but no doubt it contributes to the sunrise/sunset gold cast over everything in the blend.

Despite the presence of incense, this is not smoky. (If it were, I'd probably give in and buy it!) But as it is, I have a lot of apple blends... and only because of that, I won't be carting this. If you love golden apple perfumes, this is one to try.

First impression: Softly burnt strawberry. Like, bright strawberries just a little bruised and smudged with caramelized burnt goo.

A bit later, but while this is still drying, it resolves more into burnt sugar specifically... but the strawberries are still Queen, and the burnt sugar but a lil smudge on their skins. Now and then, as this dries, it reminds me of strawberry pancakes: basically a plate drenched in strawberry maple syrup (and also fresh halved strawberries).

I don't find any cream for a bit. But later in drydown, it becomes the pancake part of the overall strawberry maple syrup image I keep getting from this. And I like the blend plenty at that point! I wouldn't mind having these strawberry maple pancakes for breakfast this morning. 

On first application, a delicate, lightly sweet (rather than dry) champagne fizzes up on my skin (and gets on my nose, oops).

This is a pretty champagne note compared to some, with fewer nose-tickling fizz-bubbles and a little more sweetness. Elder flowers may be absent --- or they may be that bit of sweetness, since I don't remember smelling them on their own before?

A lot of flowers bloom as middle notes, so I wait a bit... and then I think I may have them. They smell like a very light, almost playful, floral honey... nice. They play well with this spring-like champagne. This is a pretty spring blend that may (based on the silence above me) not be getting the attention it merits.

But I'm a black currant ho, and where is she? I know she likes to show up late and sneak in. 

Eventually, I find a little shadow of black currant along the back wall of this party. Sneaking indeed. She is so lovely, and I wish she came into the light more here. But this is a pretty perfume, still.

O my, that's some indolic jasmine. Woof.

I can find lemon and a little tea in the mix, trying to break free... but mostly this goes right to the nether-region odors, for both my friend and I.

This is a shame --- it did sound pretty. Scrubber.

I get a bright, bold burst of seedy strawberries from the time I even crack the decant. Those blends where you can even smell the skin of the fruit? That's a lot like this one is for me. I seem to smell the freshly bitten strawberry, but also the little greenish-tan seeds over its surface. Basically, this perfume smells like a strawberry closeup.

It takes quite a while for any of the marble to slide out from under the bombastic berry. Once it does, it adds a little smoothness and sophistication. But mostly, this is a potent strawberry blend, suitable for anytime spring through summer's end.

Airy and floral aquatic-blue musk with a brush of warm leather and, at first, only a lil pinch of salt.

At first, this is quite floral, refreshing, and blue. As time passes, it grows some powder on my skin --- still blue, but becoming blue-powdery, like the dust of sea fairies on coastal blooms.

After it has dried, it grows a lot more salt on me, and it starts to remind me of the salty residue on skin after the seawater has evaporated.

This clearly evokes its art.