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Pomegranate, Patchouli, Moss, and Fir Needle

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I love this so much, and I knew I would. The pomegranate is THE note for about ten minutes and then the other three notes are present, and balanced. Beautiful in its simplicity. 

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Pomegranate on the evergreen forest floor. Patchouli is the strongest on me. The moss and fir needle take it to a pine forest, almost dirt scent. The pomegranate is playing a supporting role, just noticeable in the background, giving the scent a sweet, fruity roundness to it. I would say must love patchouli for this scent.

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Another lovely holiday morpher on me!  In the bottle:  Sweet pom juice and fresh-cut fir.  Already, it smells like a super high-end Christmas boutique.  On, wet:  As it warms up on the skin, an almost green patchouli slowly starts to develop -- very woodsy/fresh evergreen forest with damp soil and a bit of snow.  Still, the patch on me is more woodsy, hence my "green" comment -- this is not a dry nor a classically funky patch on me.  The whole thing smells like a very posh Xmas potpourri of some sort.  Drydown - slow and gradual.  Eventually, the fir resin loses its edge, and I'm left with a sort of dry fir bark thing with wisps of patch.  Starts out with high throw, eventually gets closer to the skin.  Actually a really elegant holiday scent.

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More an ambient murmur than a sonic scream of a pomegranate, it’s such a subtle red fruit, I can barely tell it’s red, or that it’s a fruit. I smell it faintly on my wrist, in the warmth of my skin, the throb of my pulse. It’s a heart healing itself, stitching itself back together in the small devotions of gentle fairy tales, favorite flowers, and pictures of baby Snoopy. Being kind to yourself when you get sad, and homesick for a home that doesn’t exist anymore. Allowing yourself to weep for someone else’s grief when you read for the 100th time the howling sorrow of Andrea Cohen’s poem “Refusal to Mourn.”

 

In lieu of
flowers, send
him back.

 

Letting your heart feel all of it, so much of everything. Breaking it every day. Mending it forever. Hoping and dreaming and loving and doing it again and again and again and waking up in the morning with the sunrise and feeling and smelling that tiny throb at your wrist and knowing that it’s the only way any of this works. What else can we do?

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The pomegranate here is so subtle on the verge of M.I.A.  The patch-moss-fir needle trio don't smell at all like one would expect it would. There's a gentle forest-like sweetness rounded by the distant echo of the fir needle. It's like sweet forest air without the sharp piercing fir needle. I guess the pom adds to the soothing sweetness effect.

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I don't smell the pom at all in this one.  I get kind of a misty evergreen note with dry, green moss and damp, earthy patchouli.  The drydown is a little less misty and damp, but an overall picture of laying on dry mosses on the floor of a pine forest.  Disappears on me after about an hour and there are foresty blends that I like more (several of the duet/menage blends).

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