The Woman Behind It

[doomsday_disco]

By moonlight—the moon shines in all night when there is a moon—I wouldn’t know it was the same paper.

 

At night in any kind of light, in twilight, candlelight, lamplight, and worst of all by moonlight, it becomes bars! The outside pattern I mean, and the woman behind it is as plain as can be.

 

I didn’t realize for a long time what the thing was that showed behind,—that dim sub-pattern,—but now I am quite sure it is a woman.

A perfume of veils and bars, moonlight slashing through prison walls: silvered lavender and white iris shuddering like lamplight on stained plaster, ambergris frothing through vanilla husk, and the phantom outline of a rose-touched woman’s silhouette.

[Invidiana]

The Woman Behind It All is reminiscent of gauzy off-white curtains, of shadows flitting back and forth on plaster walls, making you wonder if the vaguely human silhouettes are a trick of light or something more. Something like the fuzzy glow of lamplight buzzes in the background. Phantoms of a woman's perfume hang in the air. Haunting and realistic, this is a dimly room where ghosts are not afraid to show themselves in some form. 

Edited October 19 by Invidiana

[Amoraexcena]

Darn. In the bottle, this one has some complexity and promise, on my skin the white iris overwhelms everything else, it's practically an iris single note. ~30 min in, I can occasionally get a ghostly hint of something else undernearth that's shifty and gauzy and compelling - but I take a second closer sniff and it's all iris again.

 

I'll let it sit for a bit and see where it goes, but this is likely getting passed on to someone whose skin would appreciate it more. 

[ghoulnextdoor]

Sneaking into Deborah Turbeville's Unseen Versailles, elegant ghost stories and hazy hallucinations of antique decadence. A sliver of lavender soap worn translucent, the waxy trace of vintage lipstick on forgotten drinking glasses, pale powdery woods exhaling through dust-shrouded chambers. Those fleeting witnesses—hairpins, papers, cosmetics left in neglected storage rooms—so delicate an open window might blow them all away. The specific scent of beauty rituals frozen mid-performance, isolation and romanticism suspended in abandoned gilt, the haunting intimacy and immersion of faded grandeur where pristine splendor once might have kept you behind velvet ropes.

Edited October 31 by ghoulnextdoor

[feyofthefellwood]

Initially, this is heavy on the iris. Over time, the lavender peeks through, then the rose (which has a bruised rose petals smell to me rather than a rose in bloom). Then finally the vanilla comes through, which sweetens the scent a lot. The iris shares some of the spotlight but remains dominant throughout. The ambergris isn't readily identifiable to me until well into the dry down because the iris is so strong. 

 

Overall, this reminds me of a "classic" feminine perfume, floral and powdery, both sharp and sweet. It sits fairly close to the skin on me, but it's strong and a little goes a long way, and it lasts a long time. I enjoy it for what it is, but if you don't like iris or powdery florals, this will not be for you.