Casablanca

Because I have a couple bottles left of the similar Daybreak, I was going to pass on this one until I saw the mention of jasmine. I usually love the LE jasmines, so...

 

Freshly applied, True Love has more than a hint of jasmine on me. Equal parts of lavender and jasmine waft up, with a little creaminess smoothing them. The effect of the cream on them reminds me of gardenia. Coconut hints suffuse the blend. This is tropical and very, very pretty.

 

In drying, the blend brings out more coconut and a lemony-green hint of lemongrass. Lemongrass can take over on me, but it's a soft touch here.

 

When I first tried this blend, I smelled the cade during drydown, but I'm not really getting it on the re-test. On the first test, I noticed a bit of the dark, somehow hollow-toned juniper I remember from Wolves Howled, Ravens Screamed. It was scarcely there, and if I hadn't read about it, I would have written it off as a touch of odd skin chemistry. (Like yew berries, cade can smell a bit off on me.) It didn't feel like it fit with the rest of the blend, but it's not noticeable today, so...

 

On both tests, after drydown, the blend quickly thins out, losing its shape. Then my skin eats most of it. Maybe it needs more of a fixative note for me.

 

I'll see what time does for its longevity; but I'm certainly keeping it, because the first phase is so pretty.

Like a Girl is an intoxicating vanilla-sandalwood skin musk, sweeter and more floral than I expected for its listed notes.

 

Musk, vanilla, and sandalwood were strongest for me. The vanilla had a sheer quality that reminded me of Ava, which was interesting, because we were watching Only Lovers Left Alive while I was testing this.

 

I also got a moderate and perfect amount of a frankincense that reminded me of the Implacable Beautiful Tyrant hair gloss I love.

 

The floral hint was entirely in service of the vanilla musk: This wasn't a floral-category sort of blend, but rather a vanilla musk grounded in incense-like sandalwood and frank. Still, some well-blended floral hints made me think of white flowers, especially creamy gardenia, but I don't know what it was.

 

This blend was quite potent on me, given the small amount I put on; I was glad, because I could not stop inhaling it.

Luke is a gorgeous amber clove, with saffron giving it a light texture like golden threads woven into cloth.

 

I like clove but don't normally seek it out. However, this is a chase-worthy clove blend.

 

It smells like ancient, golden, spice-trade wealth.

I see Cabbage Whites all over the place in the summer, so I liked seeing them come up in the series.

 

Early on, this is dusty white orris and lily of the valley, with a touch of vanilla. The lily doesn't turn to soap.

 

After drying, it goes more creamy on me, and reads as a creamy talcum powder touched with vanilla, orris, and violet.

 

I also find something artificial about some of this blend's sweetness. It combines with the orris to feel like a store-bought powder, though a pleasant one. The perfume feels baby powder-adjacent during its wet phase, and closer to a calm and creamy talcum powder once dry.

Freshly applied, The Orb gives me a potent blend of some orange (I want to say sweet mandarin), an only slightly bitter almond, and a mellow oudh. Sometimes I think I get a hint of blood orange or red mandarin in this citrus, but for all that, the citrus feels smooth rather than sharp. It softens the blend in a watercolor of gold and orange.

The Orb reminds me of Scepter of the Empress, with that one's mandarin and amber oudh, but without the extra lift from its bergamot. I also don't get the animalic tone from the Orb's oudh that I did from the oudh in the Scepter. This feels like a grounding and supportive background oudh. Could this be more of the blend I wanted from the Scepter?

This also reminds me a bit of Like the Flashing of Light, a blend that developed beautifully over the months. When I realized how nicely it had aged, I wore it once or twice a week until it was gone. This one has some of its mood.

I might need to indulge in a bottle of this.

First on, The Stream is a dewy lavender lychee. Especially the lychee. I pick out the lily of the valley after a bit, but only with help from the notes list. Mostly, this is an aquatic-leaning lavender lychee in its early phase.

During drydown, I get a little more lily of the valley and the first of the magnolia, but they are really paying their respects to Emperor Lychee.

Once The Stream has fully dried, that up-and-coming courtly magnolia comes to her own, partnering with the lychee for a time, and then mostly taking over. Ylang ylang blends closely with her and adds to her sultry aspect. The lychee lingers for a time. The blend becomes a fresh and quirky white floral.

Gradually the lychee and dewiness fade and leave a white floral.


The lavender-lychee combination reminds me of the fresh quirkiness of lavender and grapefruit together, like in Sugar Phoenix. I don't see lychee growing on me as much as that combination did, but I'll enjoy the decant.

Fresh on my wrists, the Eternal King is black pine, dark juniper, and woody yew berries swirling with a ghostly sage smoke. As the blend starts to dry, I also start to smell black, hard-packed soil.

And then the yew berries mostly take over, upon drydown, as they did on me in that earlier moon, Bergelmir. Eternal King dries into yew berries and black earth.

The Eternal King begins with the mood of a dark mystery. It's like a found-footage reel showing nothing but a shaking view of shadows and smoke in the woods at night, with some running and panting (and falling). It's not footage that answers any next-morning investigator questions about where all the screaming kids went and what's with the burnt effigy and large footprints.


I wish I were drawn to the way yew berries smell on my skin. We don't seem to quite love each other, so I think the decant will be enough. But I'll hope for sage and smoke and conifers together again sometime.

Lady Una and Eostre of the Dawn

 

Favorite long-term LEs (or are they GCs by now?): Illustrated Woman and lots of the Snek Pit sneks

This is a nostalgic blend: dark fruit on a complex, antique, and woody background.

 

First applied, plum is most prominent. It's a deep plum, less bright and overtly fruity than I expected. Its depth blends right into the woodiness of the oudh, with hints of green cognac and incense. After a minute or few, I find a light and subtle woody patchouli and a little tobacco grounding the blend alongside the oudh.

 

Once Shadow Lace has dried on me, its plum is soft, even subdued. Its other notes also fall back, as though in ennui on fainting couches. This is a low-throw, low-energy blend on my skin once dry. It develops a little vanilla fullness, but mostly lies supine and cannot be bothered, waving away all attempts to interrupt its reverie.

 

Most of it fades from me in under two hours, but it's a beauty, and an experience, while it lasts.

I tried Amber Lace fresh out of the mailbox last night, and this morning after some rest, and the experiences differ a bit.

 

In both cases, this began on my skin as a sweet, creamy-smooth vanilla amber with a drop of cognac. It's a full-bodied sweet and creamy blend edged in antique lace, all gold and sepia.

 

In drydown, a subtle saffron emerges.

 

Last night at this point, I just got the lace blend as a background beyond that. This morning I'm getting a prominent golden tobacco. Starting in drydown, a soft, golden tobacco and the vanilla cream are the most prominent notes. Amber warms the blend throughout with a diffuse golden light.

 

Once this dries, all notes settle on me into a soft and creamy golden lace blend. I still pick out vanilla cream and cognac sometimes, but mostly this has gone all blendy.

 

Surprisingly, I don't get oudh from this in any of its phases yet. It might come in later.

 

 

When my friend tried this last night, she got loads of golden musk. She usually amps musks.

Lovely lavender.

 

This herbal and slightly green lavender combined with hops reminds me of Lilith's hair gloss, with cool white mint instead of the powdery white musk. The two would pair well.

 

On my skin, this blend is a lavender-hops combo at first.

 

As it dries, the lavender finishes its top-note cavorting and wanders off. The mint mostly takes over.

 

Dried, this becomes a minty hops blend. The mint is soft white peppermint, like an after-dinner mint without the candy. The hops are herbal and seem to carry their own bit of sweetness and wood.

Tart blackberry bushes. Freshly applied on my skin, Echo Azure smells like blackberries that are tart and dry, rather than fresh and juicy. Somehow I also get a little dried greenery impression, as though a few limbs of the plant have been cut and hung to dry, their leaves beginning to curl. Or like dried moss.

As the blend dries, the lilac comes out, cushion-soft and blended into the blackberries. The initial tartness settles into a dry blackberries softened with lilacs. The dry mossy note, for its part, now makes me think of oakmoss and lichens. I'm not sure if this is just what my skin is doing to the blend -- but it's appealing, a little rustic. This blend is basically a visit to a Willamette Valley blackberry orchard in the dry part of summer. That thought is making me super nostalgic for Oregon.

Echo stays in this sort of blackberry-country vibe throughout its life on me.

 

 

ETA: My friend later tried this. It's not as tart on her as it is on me. On her it's just a natural blackberry. The rest of the blend is similar on her.

Out of the gate on my skin, the Scepter is a soft, golden-amber citrus dirtied with a little oudh.

 

In the citrus blend, I can pick out the bergamot, and the rest smells more like sweet orange to me than like the slightly bitter and green King mandarin note I've gotten from Asp Viper and a few other blends. The blend of the citrus notes is pretty, though softer than I expected. I think I am used to blends that are more Woo double mandarin nose poke!

 

The oudh leans animalic, but it doesn't quite yell POUDH like the oudh of Bestla and Nevertheless, She Persisted did. For that I'm basically grateful.

 

By drydown, the bergamot has faded, leaving a faint orange-mandarin impression coloring a more potent amber oudh. Oudh is actually the strongest note on me thereafter.

Warm wood-stuff on the forest floor.

 

When first applied, Earth Mother gives patchouli and pine on a background of soft, warm acorns and other woody plant things. It smells like many shades of light, organic brown and an occasional dark pine green.

 

In drydown, a little chewy hay warmth emerges, well blended and not calling much attention to itself. I'm cautious with hay, because it can get crazy, and I'm like, Calm down; you're hay. But it's so nice when blended and mild. Harmonious hay.

 

After the blend dries, a sweet, dark vetiver trickles in, but it also stays well blended. From the dried Earth Mother I get dark vetiver, hay, patchouli, and woody plant things, in that order, but they're all very close and blendy. The patch is fuzzy and a bit earthy, but not really dirty, and it plays nicely.

 

I wish the blend were a little less soft, but I like it more than enough for a bottle.

With Magician's Belt first applied, the almond flower is strongest on my skin. It's a gentle almond, though: not quite the bold amaretto-like almond I often get. Beneath that is a soft benzoin and a little thread of frankincense.

 

As the blend dries, I smell the rose, though it seems faint. It mostly blends into the other notes. So far, in the few white rose blends I've tried, the rose doesn't stand out for me the way that other rose colors do.

 

The frankincense grows after drydown, but for me it remains lighter and paler than the potency and rich, golden quality it has in Sept.

 

This is a soft, off-white, cushiony sort of blend, easy to wear anywhere.

The Initiatrix keeps a similar balance on my skin through its phases: a little red rose warming and cheering things, but a more prominent creamy, vanilla benzoin as others have described it. It's still resinous, just with even more of a calm vanilla than I usually notice from benzoin.

 

I don't get it from the bottle, but on my skin, now and then I get a soft, almost tart, reddish fruity tone that reminds me, more than anything, of cranberries. It's subtle and seems to contribute to the "red" benzoin-rose impression, while adding a bit of fruity vibe. Basically, I've been surprised now and then to sniff this and think, "Kinda fruity? Red fruits? What's this?"

 

But primarily this stays a creamy benzoin, with whiffs of red rose that come and go.

Short version: My experience with Crescent Moon is similar to VetchVesper's, plus copal.

 

Longer:

 

I love amber and sage, but I was initially going to skip this one because copal and juniper are iffy for me. In early reviews, amber and sage seemed to be the main players, so this went on my list. But my experience has been more like later reviews, where juniper is stronger. Plus copal.

 

Freshly applied, this shows a shimmering juniper: cool, herbal, a bit ginny, slightly blue but mostly green. It's astringent, at first bordering on medicinal, but that quality settles down soon. The coolness is whitened with sage and sweetened with amber.

 

And, hey? I pick out a copal hint. I had thought that note would ghost.

 

After drydown, Crescent Moon morphs on me into a copal-dominant blend. And... it's gorgeous. Copal usually smells earthy, woody, and slightly smoky to me. What I smell here is like that, but leans woody, and even reminds me just a bit of the wood blend in Magician's Wand. I'm having none of my usual trouble with copal here.

 

 

I'm delighted that copal and juniper both work for me here. And I have nothing else quite like this mix. It's dualistic, with a shining, herbal, green, and fresh opening that morphs on my skin into a calm, lightly sweet, woody-brown base that's both comforting and spiritual. The juniper and sage are an initial wake-up, and then the copal shifts it to a spiritual mood. Fitting for a crescent moon.

I'm almost through my bottle of Qui Aime Bien Châtie Bien (daffodil petals and lavender tulips, blonde woods, freesia, a touch of pale honey). That could have been a sad occasion, because it's a go-to quirky spring floral for me, but then The Queen came out.

I'm thrilled, because this does remind me a lot of Qui Aime, but with a bit of a golden tone in lieu of Qui Aime's sweet and watery one. (Qui Aime had smelled floral-aquatic to me in the way that Blue Bonnet SN smells blue floral-aquatic when I wear it. There's none of that here, but there's lots of unconventional spring floral goodness.)

I catch daffodils and tulips most, but I'm not sure what the other listed flowers smell like. I don't smell amber as such, but a vague golden light seems to warm the blooms.

From bottle to dry, this blend's balance is pretty consistent for me.

This Queen is a warm and wildflower-ish spring bouquet. It's a cheer-bringer, as if these faces were flowers:

 

I had an imp of this lying around and just tried it on without knowing the notes.

 

I got a dominant jasmine (but not a high-pitched one), and the warmth of a little rose, and something that seemed kind of ambery, but not quite. I also got something a bit woody and musky. The rose seemed mostly red, but also a bit pink and innocent.

 

I read the notes and saw myrrh listed. Then I could smell myrrh! It seems to be the part I thought was amber-like.

 

I still smell something a little woody and musky in this, at least on my skin. After drydown, the woodiness starts to smell like oudh.

 

I like this. Think I'm good with the imp, though.

I don't know every floral note listed for 1868, but it's mostly moonflower and lily on me, with a breath of vanilla. It feels like an ethereal and vintage floral blend.

 

Unfortunately, it was turning soapy on me soon after application, as some lilies do. Even though I feel like "Casablanca lily" should work on me.

 

I thought it would be nice to try to fix it instead of rehoming it. So I tried it layered with Antique Lace on my arm, and they were pretty together. I used about a fifth of the 1868 bottle and added that amount of Antique Lace to it. This worked well -- no more soap, and the vintage vanilla feel of the blend is more than it was.

 

Now the blend reminds me of a floral vintage wedding, even more than it initially did.

Red rose and rich red cedar, with a little teak and oudh coming in on drydown.

 

Despite listing no resins, Our Hearts has something of a resinous quality to me within its rose and woods, giving it an oriental feel. Something here is reading as frankincense-like.

 

The blend doesn't last long on my skin, though: not much more than an hour. Its balance is consistent through its life.

This is a beautiful and quite distinct lace.

 

Freshly applied, Emerald Lace is a sparkling green scent. It smells like sweet, sun-bright grass -- grass that's the vibrant green color of absinthe -- distilled in a tube and given a sharp aquatic and slightly opium edge. I wonder if it has galbanum in it.

 

Within a few moments, the sharp aquatic vibe drifts off, and vanilla cognac enters the scene, spring-like with sap and a touch of mild green fig. This is a quiet orchard fig, not at all Fig Newtony. A tree fig, not an earth fig. The blend still smells green, but now it's starting to soften with the sepia of vanilla cognac lace.

 

Once dry, the blend is a green-tinted vanilla cognac lace, only mildly sweet. I never catch any tobacco from it.