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Casablanca

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Posts posted by Casablanca


  1. I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants.

     

    Soft, dry spearmint candies. They smell like minty pastel colors.

     

    I can just see the after-dinner mints in a crystal dish on the counter next to the cash register of a Mexican restaurant. The mints seem a little incongruous with all the margaritas in my belly, but they’re still part of the fun of dining out. That’s like this blend.


  2. I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants.

     

    On the wand, this is a slightly sweet, cold blue conifer blend. Mostly, I smell juniper. I also think of hemlock, though none is listed.

     

    Wet on my skin, Winter turns abruptly medicinal, like a menthol-blue Halls cough drop. Forest blends usually work on me, so this was quite an about face. Menthol juniper with a soft hint of cold, swampy cypress, and an even softer hint of dried leaves. The menthol rush settles in five or 10 minutes. At this point I start smelling a lot more hemlock, or something that reminds me of it, and some fir. I don’t find oakmoss or benzoin.

     

    Once Winter dries, a hint of oakmoss creeps out. Lovely note. Wish it were less faint.

     

    This one behaved similarly on me and my friend, and it didn’t quite work for either of us.


  3. I got to sample this as one of my friend’s decants last night.

     

    On the wand, there isn’t much that’s distinct for me – I just get a soft blend of orange-warmed black dust.

     

    On my skin, Allegory opens with blood orange, scarce hints of brown leather and black dust, and an unlisted vetiver.

     

    At the start of drydown, I start to smell musk, like a blood orange musk – though now and then I get a hint of red musk mingling in. It's as though they were made together, becoming a red-orange spectrum of musk that’s far more attractive to me than the lab’s red musk alone. After this dries, though, the orange fades and this gets closer to regular red musk on my skin. It also becomes far more sooty, the coal amping on me as it did in Le Père Fouettard. It doesn’t work on me.

     

    On my friend, this one really bloomed. Anything with leather and/or red musk in it just rounds out wonderfully on her, and she could scarcely tear herself away from huffing this and Krampus all night.


  4. 2016

     

    I got to sample this as one of my friend’s decants last night. Everything in the notes list appeals except the wafer, so I had skipped ordering it myself.

     

    On the wand, I smell mostly coal, and a mingling of other things I can’t identify.

     

    On my skin, though, I smell a brown-sugary, cakey wafer, coal dust, and a hint of black leather. I’m intrigued and quite drawn to this at first because I love smoke and leather. The cakey note is giving this something homey and a little sweet, but it’s still as sooty as a Christmas chimney sweep. Each time I sniff I think of Smokestack. A little black licorice shows up in the drydown. I really like this, though I can tell it wouldn’t be an everyday scent.

     

    After a half-hourish, the non-smoke notes disperse and this turns into nearly single-note industrial smoke on me. This is sad ‘cause it’s kinda boring by itself.


  5. 2016

     

    I got to sample this as one of my friend’s decants last night. I wouldn’t have ordered this one because of the competition from great-looking other blends, but I’m so glad she did.

     

    On the wand, Pere Noel is all creamsicle candy – until about halfway through the inhale. Then I start to find something behind it, become intrigued. Then it blooms in the back of my nose at the end of the inhale, as the orange subsides, and I realize it’s lavender. An herbal, slightly medicinal lavender, but so pretty, and this sniffy progression of notes tickles my fancy.

     

    On my skin, the blend is mostly creamsicle at first; I don’t find as much lavender as I did on the wand, but there’s a hint. I’m not much for creamsicle, so I hadn’t ordered this myself. But after a few minutes, I start to smell a sugary lavender.

     

    By the time this has dried, the creamsickle has settled down. The lavender smells both herbal and candy-like. The anise has appeared and the whole has blended together into a scent that reminds me of Christmas even though it’s unlike any Christmas scent I grew up with. Quirky, pretty, intriguing, different. I love.


  6. Edvard Munch

    A snow-thick scent, chalky with sandalwood and clove, streaked iron-orange and tonka-brown.

    My decants haven’t come yet, but I got to sample my friend’s decants with her last night.

    Some snow notes come across as plasticky or chemical to me, but I’d found that the one in Tres Riches Heures is lovely. It reads to me as coldness + mint + a little vanilla. Winter Landscape opens, to my nose, with that same snow blend.

    At first I only get this snow, but with a subtle sandalwood instead of Tres Riches Heures’ blue musk. I don’t find any other notes and (like Tres Riches Heures) this opening is simple but pretty.

    After some minutes I find what might be hints of orange and clove. The former is so subtle on me that I didn’t even notice it when first testing last night. The latter is also soft, but more noticeable than the orange. They color the blend but don’t come close to overwhelming it.

    By drydown, some of the snow has melted away, but it lingers, blended with an orange-tinted, cloven sandalwood. The clove has strengthened on me slightly but hangs in balance, and the sandalwood stays soft. I never smell iron or tonka.

    Low throw and lasted a couple hours on me last night, somewhat below average for me.

  7. This goes on me as a punch of dry-cherry-ish dragon’s blood and red and black musks (about in that order of strength). Underneath, I pick up black currant and a somewhat Fig-Newtony fig.

     

    As this starts to dry, incense rolls out, amping on me as it tends to in drydown. Not being a fan of the lab’s red musk, I like this phase better -- although the incense that rolls over the red musk also dulls most of the other notes. A little black musk hangs in with it, and just the softest fig-and-black currant mingling. The dragon’s blood rears up again once this has fully dried, and hangs out with the incense and musk.

     

    The lab’s red musk doesn’t work with my chemistry and usually turns to a BO smell after a while, but I think the other notes are stronger this time, and I never get that. Still, I have other incense blends I enjoy more.


  8. Wet on my skin, this is a waxy red apple with touches of green and opium (more of the former than the latter), and maybe a tiny-wee drop of honey hidden within. The apple is a bit tart like a Gala, but also a little sour, and overall reminds me more of a Red Delicious, waxy skin and all. There’s something floral about the blend, but I’m not familiar with oleander.

     

    After drydown, I don’t smell the hemlock anymore, but there seems to be a sweetness apart from the apple that might be the oleander. It blends well with the red apple, but there’s something a little unpleasant to me on the end of an inhale of it, a little bitter and overly dried. It smells like a bitter blow dryer.

     

    This starts off well, but maybe oleander doesn’t work for me.


  9. Not being a fan of mushroom smells or the lab’s black patchouli, I wouldn’t have ordered this, but I love fig and oakmoss, so I’m pleased to get a chance to try it. On the wand, I smell fig and oakmoss.

     

    On my skin, though, the mushrooms gain volume at first, with fig playing a strong second fiddle. I also get a slight creamy, nutty tone that reminds me of ambrette. The patchouli is just a grounding touch beneath these; I don’t mind it at this strength.

     

    The blend fades into a quiet skin scent on me once it dries, barely there. After a bit the fig fades from this, followed by the shrooms. The creamy, nutty tone I got earlier has also mostly faded, and now I get a soft vanillic thing that reminds me of benzoin.

     

    I’ll enjoy this imp. It’s not quite my thing, though.


  10. Wet on my skin, this is a lovely leather-rosewood blend with hints of tonka, pale incense, paper, and other woods.

     

    As Dee dries, his leather, paper and incense amp on me. It’s like he, or someone else wearing these things, is sitting so close as to almost touch my nose. Even as I write, the incense has surpassed the others and come into dominance.

     

    After drydown, a soft vanilla beeswax note joins the party. It contributes to and blends into the pale impression from the incense.

     

    I like this and may bottle it once my Wan White Humming Hive is empty, because it reminds me of that blend.


  11. Almond is impactful, and behaves that way here. The first impression on my skin is a burst of buttery almond, like marzipan, with a rocks glass of spiced rum on the side. After a minute, I find the sassafras, and it’s a nice touch in the blend.

     

    The spices are fairly subdued on application, but amp considerably on me as Port-au-Prince dries. Dried, this is a clove-dominant scent on my skin. The rum, meanwhile, fades quickly.

     

    I like this as an occasional foodie holiday scent. The buttery bay and clove contribute much to a Christmas vibe.


  12. Pretty blend in the wet stage. The first impression on my skin is of white chamomile, blue-toned cypress and juniper, an unlisted lemon, and a scant hint of pinkish rose. The chamomile doesn’t have any of the dry, pollen-like texture that I’ve gotten from some of the lab’s chamomile blends.

     

    Rome, unfortunately, turns to soap on me in the drydown.


  13. Thin, dark, and shadowed. A scent that offers no sustenance, comfort or satiety: lemon peel, white sage, frankincense, lavender fougere, sandalwood, vetiver and labdanum.

    Lovely blend. The initial lemon is present but doesnt overwhelm, balanced with white sage, frankincense, and a subtle lavender. I also get a touch of sandalwood at this stage.

    Frankincense, labdanum, and sandalwood come out on me as this dries, though hints of lemon and lavender linger.

    I like it.

  14. 2016 version

     

    Ded Moroz comes out on my wrist as a bright carmine fluid. For the first several days I had this, it smelled almost like nothing. It just smelled something like a weak saffron on my skin, if anything, though no such note is listed. I’ve let it settle now for six days, and it has a little more to it now.

     

    The first impressions are minty, snowy sage, deep reddish wood, and a touch of pale amber. On an exhale I can feel, also, a little teak lingering, barely there. I feel like I still get a suggestion of unlisted saffron, but it could be something else. After it dries, Ded Moroz becomes a very pretty mint-sage-wood skin scent.

     

    This is lovely, but, sadly, still kind of thin. I hope it fills out more with more settling.


  15. I love the way this one plays on me.

     

    It comes out a lovely, deep, and take-no-prisoners black tobacco and leather smell, with moderate frankincense, vanilla, and clove, and wee hints of champaca and petitgrain. I don’t find red patchouli until I hunt for it. Brilliant mix. This is the scent of a hardened gentleman-soldier; it makes me think of every movie I’ve seen with a Russian checkpoint.

     

    On my friend, it played very differently: it went all sweet clove petitgrain. She loves leather so that could have been a disappointment, but we both marveled (not for the first time) at how very different some blends read on our skins.


  16. Wet on my skin, a mingled moss and bitter-sharp green ivy dominate the blend, but there’s also a coldly sweet white rose and a little dark musk showing up behind them. The musk never really comes into its own on my skin, but it could have touches of vetiver and lemon myrtle. Not at the potency of black musk, though, if it does.

     

    Once dried, I start picking up a beeswax note, too. Backed by a little musk, it’s giving the blend a smooth, ethereal vibe. By now the sharpness and bitter bite of ivy is gone. I had liked it, so I kind of regret that, but I’m also liking what the scent has morphed into. The ivy just smells dark green and dry, like an old garden, and a little peppery. The moss is softer by now as well. The rose also blooms in drydown, but stays well-behaved.

     

    I like this. It felt like a gamble but I’m glad I went with it.


  17. This blend is a cold-season conifer forest: pine, fir with its frosty tone, and wafts of smoke adding depth and a sense of wolf-howl loneliness. When I picked this up, I’d imagined the smoke to smell light grey and wispy, but it reads to me as dark and sooty. I like all smokes, though. There’s no sweetness in this scent, and it smells dry.

     

    Low throw. Lasts 1 – 2 hours on me, less than average.


  18. Wet on my skin, this is sweet toasted-marshmallow bonfire smoke and the lightest touch of booze. (Rum or whiskey?) It really is light, and even though I don’t usually like booze in scents, I’m enjoying this drop of it with the sugar. I never smell the musk.

     

    I love the way this smells on me, but it’s mostly gone in 20 minutes.


  19. 2016 version

     

    Yes, evil Christmas tree.

     

    Ashy pine pitch, opoponax, and tobacco with a little frosty fir and some blue spruce. Begins fairly sweet, and softly camphoraceous, and settles into a soft conifer scent with hints of ash, smoke and camphor.

     

    I like.

     

    ETA: I have to add this, because it cracked me up. Last night my friend tested this. Whereas on me this is very much the evil Christmas tree, on her it turned to candied fruits.

     

    We were like whuhhhh? It was like the scene from Mary Poppins when she pours medicine that turns a different color in each spoon.


  20. In the bottle, I smell a lovely fig (not overripe or Fig Newtony) and a little sandalwood; on my skin, though, this blend is mostly a red cinnamon-sandalwood-myrrh and the fig falls to the background. The cinnamon is pretty, and smells almost exactly like the Ceylon cinnamon I give my bird. But there's a little more of it on me -- and less fig -- than I'd hoped for.

     

    Unfortunately the cinnamon just amps more in drydown for me.

     

    The blend is soft and barely there, and kind of thin, like there isn't as much scent in the carrier oil. I hope it comes out more with age.


  21. Oh gosh, what is that, besides the snow and conifers?

     

    In the Wild North is lovely, but in the bottle, and especially on me, it opens with a bright, unexpected floral mingled with snow. On my skin, at first it makes me think of lotus, like a pale lotus -- and then almost like opium. Behind this, I smell a soft blend of conifers, more woody on my skin than green.

     

    The bright floral fades quickly in the drydown (again making me think of the way lotus plays on me), leaving behind a lovely, wintry snow-and-conifers scent, with only a hint of flowers.

     

    ETA: On a later application, I seem to smell strawberries in the mix, too.


  22. The first impression of Glimmer of Northern Lights on my skin is a yellow-orange fruity floral and a little (very little) frost. The yellow seems lemony and the orange seems like some mix of orange, peach, or apricot.

     

    After a minute the opium flower develops, giving off a warm smoke-and-floral note, but on me it stays secondary to the fruitiness. The hint of frost is still present, but it's barely a touch in the air.

     

    The blend as a whole is warmer than I expected, but it's not quite like anything else I have. It's bright and lovely -- like a mild winter showing a glowing heart of spring.


  23. Théodore Rousseau

    A wintry tangle of oak and forest mosses against a deepening amber backdrop.

    The amber in Forest in Winter is actually no mere backdrop; even in the bottle, it's the most potent note to me, and it's beautiful. Green, living moss is the next strongest note. I sniff this and my mind goes a-swirl with gold and green.

    This doesn't change on my skin from the bottle. It just opens out into a warm, deep amber-bathed mossy forest. This amber gives the woods an impression of glowing. (ETA: Actually, on re-applying this, I think I'm picking up champaca, too.) The blend is a little sweet, and quite smooth.

    As it dries, the oak comes out, smelling like a wise, old tree still in verdant health.

    There's a touch of cool frost so faint it's barely there, mostly adding a lighter tint to the greenery. The rest of the blend smells like mature and lazy summer. Perfect for me.

  24. Limbourg Brothers

    Crystalline blue musk arcing over a blanket of snow.

    The conceptual scent of a snowy winter night with still some lightness in the sky.

     

    Snowy, medium-blue musk. This snow has a slight graininess in its texture in my nose sometimes. It's a lightly minty-vanilla concept smell pervading a soothing blue musk.

     

    Lovely.


  25. BPTP just kindly sent me this freebie, though it’s listed here as discontinued.

     

    Wet on my skin, Epitaph is white, misty-powdery lilies and a hint of pale green moss. The mossy, powdery mist quality is like that in The Virgin and the Unicorn.

     

    As Epitaph dries, its roses appear, just barely – pale roses, white or a faint pink.

     

    This blend isn’t me, yet I like it enough to wear with pale outfits for as long as the imp lasts.

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