Casablanca

I love the different notes I see in the list. Mountain avens? Wonderful.

On the wand, I get tart, dry berries in a powdery and fresh floral. Almost laundry-like.

On my skin, the berries dominate. They seem less tart, but just as dry as on the wand. This blend definitely gives a cool, powdery meadow impression on me. I don’t pick out any specific flower, other than a breath of roses when I look for it. Unfortunately, this is too powdery on my skin.

On the wand, oh, gosh. Lemon, flowers, and pee? Is that an indolic jasmine doing that? I have never smelled pee in jasmine before. I always just read about that reaction. So this is my first time! I try another sniff – yes, there’s something toilet about this.

On my skin, though, it's mostly lemon jasmine. Only slightly indolic now – I barely notice it. I get purpled whiffs of violet and wisteria, and a blended undercurrent of other notes, but lemon jasmine is strongest.

As it begins to settle, the whole blend goes quite soft on me.

On the wand, sweet and heavy violet and rose. A little powdery, a little candy-like. It’s like an overwhelming powder room floral.

On my skin, it’s much, much lighter. Still sweet. Leans toward soap, but isn’t exactly that on me. On me it goes thin, and closer to violet dishwater?

Marie also just happens to be the sort of floral that makes me think I don’t like florals as a whole, which isn’t true. This one isn’t for me.

On the wand, this smells just like its description. Hot wind rustling sun-scorched hay and brittle, dead grasses. The blend sits on the edge of smelling burnt. The magnifying glass has directed the sun at dried hay: it’s browning, starting to smoke, and is about to catch flame.

On my skin… Well, it’s not a pretty scent. No happy spring floral here. It smells like a Rubbermaid box of car exhaust.

On the wand, I get the freshly blown-out candle impression other reviewers mention.

On my skin, initially, this is a cloyingly sweet bloom (seemingly darkened with a faint lemony black musk?) and an incense opium. It’s mostly too sweet on my skin for the candle impression now, but every now and then, that smoky image turns up again.

Once this dries, most of its notes disappear on me. What remains smells like a basement that might have a leak somewhere, but it’s faint and I can’t find it.

On the wand, um, dried-up turkey, apple, and a slop of toffee custard. Eck!

On my skin, it turns more bready. Specifically, dried and crumbly baked bread (lightly spiced), turkey, and sweet toffee.

Well, that’s over with.

On the wand, oof, red-fruity red musk and citrus.

On my skin, this is an initial burst of musk-soaked strawberries. (I love strawberry notes, but the lab’s version of red musk turns to nasty BO on my skin before long, so I’m not looking forward to what’s to come. Trying it anyway for science.)

There’s a side dish of grapefruit, the bright freshness of which quickly starts to clash with a growing body-odor stink of heavy red musk. Then the grapefruit abruptly winks out. The strawberry leaves remain, but subdued under the tyrannical red musk’s fist. The red musk amps up like 80s glam metal on my skin; the white musk never has a chance, and soon all the fruits are drowned out.

Yup. Still can’t do lab red musk.

On the wand, I get mostly a bright citrus. I think of white grapefruit. There’s an aquatic aspect, but not as strong as I anticipated. And on the back end… I’m getting a little something heavier, sort of woody, so very light, barely there. What is that?

On my skin, ambergris? Once the blend is on me, I don’t get the citrus at all — it jumps right to a lightly salty, oceanic ambergris, or something like it, and it’s very faint.

An odd one, and not for me.

On the wand, I smell waxy, multicolored, freshly watered spring flowers and grass.

On my skin, this is about the same. Watered and bottled spring flowers, a little grass. It smells pink and yellow and green to me. It reminds me of Qui Aime Bien Châtie Bien, but softer, thinner, a little greener, and more aquatic. I liked Qui Aime, so this is one to consider as a backup, even if it’s not as full-smelling.

Freshly applied, jasmine is strongest on me, but it's as closely entwined with honeysuckle as flowering vines on a trellis. The jasmine smells heady at first, but not high-pitched. Honeysuckle and a creamy milkiness add a lovely fullness to the blend. I also get a subtle musk. Once this dries, I mostly get smooth honeysuckle milk.

This reminds me of this past year's Poor Monkey, which I loved, but with a little more throw (Poor Monkey had almost no throw on me once it dried). I wasn't expecting this and am so pleased by it. The milk is combining with the honeysuckle in a way that brings the ylang ylang milk of Monkey to mind. This sort of thing loves my skin.

Gossamer is the perfect word for Zorya P. I get mostly what I'm thinking of as a lunar vanilla. Moonflower, ethereal vanilla, evoking bluish-white colors for me. Everything else is too blended for me to pick anything out. I'm amazed at what seems to be the tobacco petals -- for anything tobacco-like, it's such a light touch. But there is a slight grounding influence it's giving. I keep getting a stronger floral impression than just moonflower, and I think it's that.

I'm relieved not to get saltiness from the ambergris; the note comes out more on my skin as this dries. I don't smell amber but there's a fullness to the blend that I associate with it.

This is gorgeous and smells to me like the signature blend of underworld's kindest ghost.

This is my go-to when I want an oriental HG.

On my hair, this is mostly golden-ambery frankincense. It's so golden that I sometimes think I'm getting a wisp of champaca, too. I also get a hint of ginger, but no oudh.

Goes nicely with House of Unquenchable Fire atmo and lots of oriental perfumes.

On the wand, almost all fizzy champagne. An eensy weensy nip of white pear.

On my skin, that’s all fizzy champagne. It’s a little sweet, and so quite different from the dry champagne-white wine thing that Fairy Wine did on my skin. I don’t get any fruit when this is first applied, but the plumeria is a nice, soft presence. It does remind me of the plumeria I’ve smelled in a local garden.

Surprisingly, I get a little residual pear when this has just dried. It reminds me of the Titania pear, but the rest of the blend isn’t as pretty around it.

I’m not into champagne scents, but I enjoyed the chance to sample this.

In the bottle, I get jasmine oudh and a little smoothing vanilla. The oudh is giving the jasmine an alluring, woody depth.

On my skin, this is a lovely soft jasmine, not a high-pitched one. It has a bit of greenness to my nose, which reminds me of Winter Jasmine SN. I also get a little bourbon vanilla and sandalwood while this is wet, instead of the oudh I smelled in the bottle, but they are soft. Mostly, this is soft jasmine. I hope the oudh returns when this dries.

Sadly, when this dries, it sort of bottoms out on me. I just get a ghostly-faint jasmine skin scent, scarcely there, and nothing else.

Vaporum is pretty, but it dissolves in vapors on me.

On the wand, super-dry sandalwood and coconut. A hint of orris when I think about it.

On my skin, dusty-dry coconut-sandalwood, but this takes on more of an overall woodiness on my skin than it had on the wand. The orris is lightly there, just adding a little pale powder impression. I also get vanilla mixed in with that, like a vanilla powder. Mostly, though, this is making me think “rugged coconut,” like an Indiana Jones coconut.

Yup. Pretty much archeological tomb-robber coconut, with dust on his hat, but without his leathers.

In the bottle, I get a soft, airily floral peach and nectarine.

On my skin, this is lovely. The peach and nectarine aren’t as sharp and bright as fruits can sometimes be when freshly applied. Rather, they’re smooth and silky, almost cushiony, with an airy and creamy quality from the gardenia, and maybe also other things not in the notes list. Somehow I’m getting an orchid-or-something impression, too, with maybe a little vanilla. Pale frankincense is barely there, in the back of the nose, and lightly grounding.

I initially passed over this one because of the gardenia, but based on reviews and just on a lark, I picked it up the day before Lupers came down. This is one of those “I’m glad I did” reviews. This is spring- and summer-like, not too sweet for me, and a hybrid of playfulness and elegance.

In the bottle, I get an extremely dry chardonnay.

On my skin, this is fizzy. I didn’t expect that, I guess because I didn’t read enough previous reviews. The effervescence combined with the dry white wine ends up reminding me more of champagne than wine. And that’s all I get on my skin. SN champagne.

This one will find a better home on someone else.

In the bottle, black currant, white peach, and a whiff of vanilla.

On my skin, at first, this is a blast of white peach and black currant (which smelled to me more like plum when I first tested this without reading the notes). Mostly it’s white peach, and reminds me of Humanite. I think that while I love other peach notes, I just don’t like white peach. It comes across as overripe and mushy to me. Thankfully, that note starts to settle quickly, and the blend turns more pleasantly tropical. Now it’s dry coconut flakes, black currant, a little milder peach, and a ghostly-faint orchid. I like this phase best.

Lamia dries on me into a soft, vaguely floral black currant dirtied with a little vetiver. The black currant still smells plummy to me. The coconut is barely there.

In the bottle, dandelions and other wildflowers in the grass.

On my skin, dandelions and other wildflowers (some of them pink?), greeny-green grass, and a light honey. Spring in a bottle.

Lasts under two hours, but in that time, it’s all that I’d hoped for. I’d get it again.

ETA: This reminds me of Strawberry Moon v5 (minus the strawberries -- just the sunny meadow part of it), and the two blends smell divine next to each other on my arm.

On the wand, a balsamic incense.

On my skin, the same incense, but now faint and a little sweet with creamy coconut-banana-vanilla. This is more light and pretty than dark and sinister, which is cool, though different from the description.

Basically pudding, and a little incense.

On the wand, oh. Hey. Waaaay sweet honey, and then bing! Pink lotus.

On my skin, the lotus is now stronger than the honey, and extremely pink! This is the pink fruity lotus that sometimes bubblegums, and it’s doing that some here, but I still love the stuff. It’s pretty and full of play and joy, la-la-la. Honeyed pink lotus.

I’ll probably bottle this. Oh, why is it out of stock?

On the wand, primarily woody, and a little musty, camphorous, and vanillic.

On my skin, a woody and creamy root beer? Whuh?

In drydown, the root beer starts to separate into a curious anise-lilac-wood mix, and then a little white rose peeps open. Once dried, the whole thing goes more floral, but also scarcely detectable on me.

On the wand, ambery vanilla musk on the inhale, and then a little lingering myrrh-cedar. Neat.

On my skin, this opens prettily as a deeply ambery vanilla musk — it smells sugared. The vanilla musk part reminds me of Solstice Scents’ Manor. In early drydown I start to pick up carnation, adding a little floral spice, and red sandalwood. And then depth-adding myrrh and a hint of cedar.

The amber and sugary vanilla musk tie for strongest on me while this is wet, and the sugary vanilla musk (especially the musk) dominates once dried. After drying, the amber and myrrh hang around, and other notes are really just hints.

I quite like this amber. I hope it comes back.

On the wand, an empty-smelling palmarosa on a background of other flowers. A tiny bit aquatic.

On my skin, totally different: a soft, spearminty white sandalwood. Mint dominates while wet; I don’t smell the flowers at all. Then, abruptly in drydown, something turns into sour funk on my skin. I think it’s one of the flowers.

Not a match for my chemistry.

On the wand, a subdued, slightly floral crystalline musk. It does smell crystalline…

On my skin, ah, where’d it go? (Slathers more.) Still barely there. But I get a super-soft cereus-jasmine mix in a translucent musk. I can imagine getting something plasticky out of the “crystalline” part of the musk, but thankfully it’s not going there with me. This discontinued frimp probably has some age, because this might just be the softest jasmine ever. I like the cereus, especially. This reminds me a little of Long Night Moon.

The blend comes out a little more after warming up, but stays soft. Eventually, I get enticing hints of spice. Pretty and light.