Juushika

In the vial: Almost-burnt sugar and musk, a dry spicy reddish scent. On me: Rooibos as it hits the skin, dry red herbal, not quite spicy but warm. The burnt sugar/musk comes out again with drydowna combination similar to Smut, the alongside rooibos it's entirely unique; nor is it sweet, despite the impression is sugar. The scent has a good body without being too heavy, a feel of golden woods/resins; it's a dry, warm, and red: gender-neutral edging towards masculine; warm and lovely, but too dry to read as sensual. Needless to say, a distinctive if difficult to summarize scent, and has a smoothness that makes it feel more like a distinct smell than a well-blended combination of notes. Verdict: I find myself reaching for Chaotic far more than I expect. It's too unusual to be called understated, but it has an unassuming smoothness that belies surprising warmth and distinction. I admire it more than I love it, but sometimes it's the perfect thing to wear, and I'm glad for my decant.

In the vial: Dark, tart pomegranate, perhaps a touch of rose. On me: Soft, dusty rose balancing out pomegranate's tartness; a rich, dark scent, round with fruit, overlayed with patchouli and a bit of spice. Rose amps on me, but this one stays pleasantly in check; plum does likewise, and this one gets a touch too distinct for my taste but also stays reigned in. A well-blended scent on the whole, dark and round with fruit and spicy-sweet, yet gentle. It's strongly reminiscent of Queen of Clubs, but I prefer that scent. Throw is moderate low; wear length is moderate high. Verdict: Queen of Clubs wowed me with its wearable rose and dark, dirty fruits; Crypt Queen is in many ways similar, but never passes from "good" to "great"—whatever magic marks QoC, it isn't here. And that's fine! It's a beautifully realized scent on the whole, dark and round and complex, but I'm not in love and don't need to keep my decant.

In the vial: Surprisingly sweet, with spices (peppers more than clove). On me: Dragon's blood and pink pepper, but basically: spiced bubblegum is spot on (not lotus's sharp bubblegum sweetness, but a just-opened stick of the stuff, still dusted with powder. A sweet, pink , full-bodied but slightly powdery scent, with nothing of the darkness that I'd expect from a number of the notes. Throw is moderate. Verdict: While not actively unpleasant, this is far from my style; I washed it off. I wasn't expecting such a sweet scent; as it is, it's full-bodied and tolerable despite my avid dislike of everything it stands for, but, no, I don't need to keep my decant.

In the vial: Red musk and honey, a blushing and thick scent but not too bright or cloying. On me: What is says on the tin: warm red musk; red, dry, spicy carnation; myrrh which leans towards incense, brown and slightly powdery; thick smooth honey which offers more texture than sweetness. The carnation is strong when it hits the skin but dies down during wear, which is my only big complaint; it is such a promising, bold carnation at the start. Three of these notes (all but the carnation) often go sweet on me, but La Passion keeps itself in check—perhaps because three of the scents (all but honey) tend towards powdery, and the two aspects balance one another. The result is a red scent, tending a bit towards pure red musk (which I amp), but exhibiting all its aspects: warm, spiced, leaning towards but not quite reaching dry, palatable and quite lovely. Scent color is (surprise!) red; throw is high but not overpowering, and wearlength is moderate to long. Verdict: Carnation is my beloved, so I'm sad to see this one fade; red musk amps on me, so La Passion reads a bit like every other red musk blend. Nonetheless this is lovely: the notes are beautiful in concert, and the scent is a warm red beauty. I'll keep my decant, but don't need more.

In the vial: A dark, smoky, dry, spicy, reddened scent. On me: Well-blended to the point of seamlessness; dry and with no trace of sweetness, which keeps the notes in check. Warm, smoke over cedar and colored by cinnamon, dark but not heavy, almost understated but, on skin level, not at all shy. Scent-color is a smoky, hazy bistre. Throw is moderate to low, but occasionally reaches out longer tendrils of cinnamon. Verdict: I'd half expect a blend like this to have some sort of booziness or sweetness to give it counterpoint or punch, but Umbra's beauty is that it lacks that; instead, it's a pure smooth worn-wood darkness—the cinnamon gives it color and interest, but the scent on the whole could almost make you think it was understated, a background note, which belies its well-blended depth. It doesn't stand out, and I doubt I'll remember to reach for it frequently, but it's an accomplished not-quite-a-background scent that I'll be happy to have around. I'll keep my imp.

Resurrected/2008 version. In the vial: Snake oil's vanilla and spices in an astoundingly thick out. On me: It goes slightly dirty as it hits the skin, cigarette smoke/bourbon vanilla-esque, atop vanilla and spices. Once it dries down, however, this is pretty much what Snake Oil ought to have been, except that Snake Oil disappears on my skin: it's a dark spicy vanilla and a touch of amber, a subtle and deep and sensual scent, sweet but smooth, spicy and dark, warm and brown. I get plenty of resins a little dark fruit, especially in the throw, differentiating the scent from virgin Snake Oil. Throw is low, but the scent shows no shyness at skin-level; wear length is very long. Verdict: Considering my tumultuous relationship with Snake Oil, I'm pleasantly surprised how much I like Snake Charmer (Resurrected); it's not love, but this is what I'd always hoped Snake Oil would be, in spirit if not in every letter, and so I appreciate and will keep my decant.

In the vial: Lemon, with some background notes I can't pin down. On me: The sharp oils of lemon and orange; mint hiding beneath, I thinka sharp, citric scent. The sharpness wears off during drydown, revealing something sweet and familiar beneathgrape and florals, soft, sweet, and almost frosted; a pale, slightly powdery scent. There's a hint of rose, but surprisingly it doesn't overtake everything else in the blend (I usually amp rose). Verdict: Nicer than I anticipated, but not at all my style. A sweet, cool fruity floral, Bess is unusual and I suppose palatable, but I washed it off and will trade away my imp.

In the vial: Currant; a dark red scent, not too juicy or tart. On me: Juicy and tart to the extreme as this hits the skin, backed up by slightly bitter woods. The two aspects balance out during drydown: a rich base of nonfoody woods topped by slightly subdued dark red fruits. It has moments when the fruits get too strong for my taste, which doesn't surprise meI have a love/hate relationship with that note, which I like in theory but in practice is often too powerful for my taste, especially since my skin amps currant. But on the whole the woods ground the scent and keep the fruits in line. A warm, red, smooth scent, rich and royal. Scent-color is dark rosewood/mahogany; throw and wearlength are both moderate verging on high. Verdict: Like but not love, enough to keep the imp but not half enough for a bottle. I imagine aging will do good things to this scent, maintaining an even better balance of wood to fruit, but honestly I'm surprised to like this so much as it is: I find that red fruits are often only a theoretical desire, but these are unique and well-balanced, and quite lovely.

In the vial: Surprisingly sweet, almost Jack-waxy pumpkin. On me: Goes on strong pumpkin, midway between earthy and waxy, with something chemically sweet in the throw. The waxiness of the pumpkin dies off during drydown, leaving behind an understand and earthy pumpkin rind. There's a chemical/medicinal/herbal note at the heart of this blendfennel and spices and licoriceand I just ... don't like it. Most rooibos I've encountered is an herbal equivalent to red musk, but I get nothing of that warmth and color hereit's just a spiced, curried pumpkin. Verdict: Pumpkin Masala Roobios is effective as a non-sweet, non-traditional spicy pumpkinherbs and unusual spices over a savory pumpkin base. But the spices always seem a little off and unpleasant to my nose, and I just find nothing to like here, none of the warmth I was expecting, nothing palatable in the blend. I'll trade away my decant.

In the vial: Dark, a bit bitter, a bit dry. On me: The bitterness blossoms as this hits the skin—clove and orris root, maybe, a dark sharp scent. The musk comes out with drydown and the bitterness fades; the scent transforms into a warm, dark spice with a red/purple shift. It's a dense, dark scent that hovers close to the skin, spicy and hot, a bit powdery, musk with clove thorns, sensual and dangerous in the same scent. Throw and wear length are both fairly low. Verdict: I'm not head over heels, but I am solidly won over. The Moon Gazed on My Midnight Labours is what I would expect from the notes, dark and warm and spicy; it doesn't try to play nice by offering up any sort of sweetness (even though musk is usually sweet on my skin), but is gorgeous in its own right. I expect it will age well, too. I'll hold on to my decant, but I don't think I need a bottle.

In the vial: Warm, citric amber. On me: It goes on as orange zest—the bright, volatile, almost bitter oils of orange peel—over amber. Much of the orange, in particular its brightness, dies off with drydown; what's left behind is a faint, warm amber, slightly powdery and slightly vanillic, perhaps a bit floral, touched by orange. It's a pale, light, warm scent, glowing rather than shining; it has almost a white cocoa sense to it, a more-than-skin-scent atmosphere of gentle and pale but distinct sweetness. (Bourbon vanilla usually goes dark and dirty on me; if the sweetness is just vanilla, it's much whiter than I'm used to.) Scent color is opaque, pastel orange. Throw is gentle but surprisingly high. Verdict: A Wonderful Light is reminiscent of Khrysee, but drier and more pristine than Khyrsee's fleshy amber; it's also reminiscent of a white chocolate Gelt, sweet and powdery and dry. It's perfectly pleasant but doesn't move me—the scent texture is too dry, and it's a little too sweet for my taste, and I don't need to own it.

An old, dried-out empty; I don't know how representative it is of the true oil. In the vial: A familiar fruity sweetness; light, sweet, not too full-bodied. On me: The same light fruity sweetness, eventually tempering out with a bit of herbs or teaeither way a drier, more herbal scentand losing the aggressive sweetness which could easily be white chocolate. The fruit remains, tangerine with a touch of mandarin but not much currant, a light and bright fruit, not juicy but aromatic. The scent doesn't last long, an hour or three. Verdict: Nothing to write home about, but then I'm not a fan of white chocolate or predominant fruits. This is a light, bright, colorful sort of scent; the initial sweetness is a bit oppressive, but without it the scent is just straightforward, if pleasant, bright fruits. It's not to my taste, and not something I need to seek out in any quantity.

In the vial: Sharp, warm, slightly medicinal; I feel like I should be able to name the note, but can't. On me: Powdery amber and rose as it hits the skinwhich does not bode well, as my skin loves rose a bit too much. As it dries down, there's a medicinal edgeperhaps bergamot, but more herbal and dry. It casts a sharp, herbal shadow over an otherwise traditional spectrum of amber and rose accompanied by musk and sandalwood, and there's also a touch of warmth in the saffron. Until this point the rose stays in check, but post-drydown it peers its head up and then there's no stopping it: next it's a powdery, tame rose with a backing of herbs and warmth; then it grows into rose, rose, just rose, fleshy and red and especially potent in the throw. Verdict: Blame my skin, which almost always amps rose to terrifying levels. What Bagdad is until that happens is only okay, but I honestly can't judge the true nature of this scent. This is one for the swaps.

In the vial: I'd hazard sandalwood, orris, and muskit's a familiar scent but hard to name, brown and organic. On me: Goes on cologney and sweet, and has a frankly unlikable drydown period which takes too much from the coconut and hardly matches the description. When it does dry down, this is a barely sweet, fuzzy brown scentmore orris, sandalwood, and husk than musk, so there's not much of rats or mice here and instead the scent leans a bit vegetative; it's not as powdery as I had expected, but the coconut husk in particular well matches the scent-texture promised in the description. Scent-color is a moderate brown, not too dark or saturated. Throw is moderate. Verdict: I get almost nothing in the way of musk or incense, but I want them thereI think they'd provide welcome balance and darkness to the scent, and lean it back towards animalic instead of vegetative. What I get from Brown Jenkin instead is only okayI like it, but not nearly as much as I want to. I'll hang onto my imp for now and hope that aging brings out those other notes and improves the scent.

In the vial: Warm, golden, sweet, with a touch of boozy fruit. On me: Spice as it hits the skin, over a rich round peach; initially, this scent is round, bright, golden, and fruity counterpointed by a spicy, smoky warmththere's something exotic about it, perhaps in the incense, and it's lovely. The fruitiness amps during drydown, and cinnamon triumphs over the clove, patchouli, and incense; the scent resolves to something pretty much matching the description, a bright, thick, sweep, warm fruity scent rouged with red spices, but it lacks the dark counterpoint of clove et a. Scent color is golden, yellow and red. Throw and wear length are both moderate. Verdict: I want the cloves, patchouli, and incense to stick around. They're what makes the scent a successthe contrast they give to the bright fruits is tried and true but no less brilliant for that, and the incense gives a unique and exotic edge. But those notes die off, and what they leave behind is just cinnamon over fruit; it's vivid but lacks depth, and is too bright and fruity for my tastes. All in all this isn't a keeper, however promising its initial stages.