Lethran

Coconut, balsam, lemongrass, anise, vanilla orchid, mimosa. In bottles: This is really different. The coconut and balsam combine worth the lemongrass to create an effect I’m having trouble describing. It’s sort of tart and warm and toasty at the same time. The orchids and mimosa form a second strong faction, which goes really well with the balsam, which ties the factions together. The anise is soft and fun with the lemongrass. Wet: Lemongrass is now strongest, as my skin amps it. It is too strong really, though the coconut, balsam, and anise, try hard to hold firm. The flowers fade into a soft fuzzy background. It’s not bad even still, but there’s just too much lemongrass with my chemistry. Dry: Very pretty on the dry down. The lemongrass stays strongest, but calms down. Balsam is a strong second, with a touch of coconut and a kiss of florals.

Thirteen (13) A fortune's wheel of thirteen lucky and unlucky herbs, spun around a rich, dark core of pure cacao: allspice berries, cascara sagrada, ladybug beans, cinnamon, catnip, sweet clove, cumin, huckleberry leaves and fruit, master root, copal negro, sarsaparilla, nutmeg, and green rice. In bottle: I am not familiar with some of the elements, so this review will not be as precise as I like. It is cocoa dominant with the green rice in support. Saspirilla and huckleberry are tied for second is second. The saparilla stands alone, but the huckleberry plays with the chocolate and it's leaves bridge to the garden faction. Third would be the spice block that mostly supports the chocolate but which also bridges to the herbal and garden element. The allspice help bridge chocolate and huckleberry particularly. I am guessing that the ladybug beans are dominant there, but don't quote me as I've never smelled a ladybug bean. It's just that the note smells like fresh bean plants. The copal smoothes the transition between elements, soft, but ubiquitous and blending well with everything. It's interesting and complex, with the chocolate, spices, and sarsaparilla saying food, and the rest saying garden. It works and makes me thing of the act of trick or treating, tromping past Autumn gardens while carrying a bag full of candy. Wet: More perfumey on the skin. The cocoa stays dominant, but the copal pops into second, still tying things together, but prominent now rather than understated. I'd call sarsaparilla third, then spices in forth, with the huckleberries working as a bridge between chocolate, spices, and sarsaparilla. The garden/herbal faction is soft, but pervasive. It's more foodie in affect and less carrying candy through other people's gardens. Dry: Surprisingly sweet rice, copal, and gentle sarsaparilla. I'm thinking I'm picking up allspice berries and a kiss of cocoa too.

Pinpoints of red light beaming from its eyes scan the room, and in a flutter of leather wings, it scuttles across the wooden floorboards. Polished metallic notes, glossy leather, frankincense, star anise, and thin lubricating oils. In bottle: Mmmm… this has the metallics that mechanical phoenix has with a sweet insensey edge. It is masculine, but sweet. Wet: I love this. It’s got a pleasant aftershave thing going on with an anise/incense effect elevating it. It’s sweet, spicy and sexy all at once, and somehow, very steampunk. Dry: I’m in love, I really am. This is reminding me of red Moon and Pirate Moon. It is sweet and light and spicey, but has more through than either of those lunacies. It is pleasantly complex without being busy. Seriously, this is a winner.

The book was commonly known as the Buggre Alle This Bible. The lengthy compositor's error, if such it may be called, occurs in the book of Ezekiel, chapter 48, verse five: 2. And bye the border of Dan, fromme the east side to the west side, a portion for Afher. 3. And bye the border of Afhter, fromme the east side even untoe the west side, a portion for Naphtali. 4. And bye the border of Naphtali, from the east side untoe the west side, a portion for Manaffeh. 5. Buggre all this for a Larke. I amme sick to mye Hart of typefettinge. Master Biltonn if no Gentelmann, and Master Scagges noe more than a tighte fisted Southwarke Knobbefticke. I telle you, onne a daye laike thif Ennywone half an oz. of Sense should bee oute in the Sunneshain, ane nott Stucke here alle the liuelong daie inn thif mowldey olde By-Our-Lady Workefhoppe. @*"AE@;!* 6. And bye the border of Ephraim, from the east fide even untoe the west fide, a portion for Reuben. [The Buggre Alle This Bible was also noteworthy for having twenty seven verses in the third chapter of Genesis, instead of the more usual twenty four. They followed verse 24, which in the King James version reads: "So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life," and read: 25 And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying Where is the flaming sword which was given unto thee? 26 And the Angel said, I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next. 27 And the Lord did not ask him again. It appears that these verses were inserted during the proof stage. In those days it was common practice for printers to hang proof sheets to the wooden beams outside their shops, for the edification of the populace and some free proofreading, and since the whole print run was subsequently burned anyway, no one bothered to take up this matter with the nice Mr. A. Ziraphale, who ran the bookshop two doors along and was always so helpful with the translations, and whose handwriting was instantly recognizable.] Crumbling paper and ancient cracked leather with a touch of tobacco leaf and incense. In Bottle: This is strongly reminiscent of Aziraphale only with a strong incense scent to it and less geeky. Wet: The tobacco and paper are strongest at first with the leather rising quickly. There is an odor of decay to it. The incense and tobacco rise slowly. This is really different on my skin than in the bottle, very prone to shifting moment to moment in emphasis. Dry: This settles beautifully into a rich mostly leather and incense blend with the other notes riding pleasantly along underneath. It’s rich and dry and sexy in a book geek guy kind of way. I was worried at first, but now I’m really liking it and rather wishing I were smelling it on someone else’s skin, rawr.

HERMES, draw near, and to my pray'r incline, Angel of Jove, and Maia's son divine; Studious of contests, ruler of mankind, With heart almighty, and a prudent mind. Celestial messenger, of various skill, Whose pow'rful arts could watchful Argus kill: With winged feet, 'tis thine thro' air to course, O friend of man, and prophet of discourse: Great life-supporter, to rejoice is thine, In arts gymnastic, and in fraud divine: With pow'r endu'd all language to explain, Of care the loos'ner, and the source of gain. Whose hand contains of blameless peace the rod, Corucian, blessed, profitable God; Of various speech, whose aid in works we find, And in necessities to mortals kind: Dire weapon of the tongue, which men revere, Be present, Hermes, and thy suppliant hear; Assist my works, conclude my life with peace, Give graceful speech, and me memory's increase. A blessing of wit, opportunity, and skill: yellow sandalwood, bergamot, gum mastic, gum Arabic, lavender, lemongrass, angelica root, and anise. In bottle: Lemon grass dominant, like whoa, with a strong presence from the gums and the bergamot. The lavender supports the lemon grass; the angelica supports the gum. The bergamot winds through everything, dancing with all the notes. Sandalwood is a soft canvas to paint the other scents on. The anise is very understated. Wet: Lemon grass! Lots and lots of it. The gums, bergamot, lavender, and angelica are still discernible, but this is mostly about the lemon grass. It's really disappointing. Dry: Lemon grass and a bit of sandalwood mostly.

We must have all the old demons of the first class, with tails, and the hobgoblins and imps; and then I think we ought not to leave out the death-horse, or the grave-pig, or even the church dwarf, although they do belong to the clergy, and are not reckoned among our people; but that is merely their office, they are nearly related to us, and visit us very frequently. OLD DEMONS OF THE FIRST CLASS Siberian musk, black clove, opoponax, tonka, black pepper, and neroli. In bottle: It’s like opening a wooden spice chest. The musk and clove are delightful together. The pepper gives a sharp edge to it, the tonka and neroli gentle it. I’m loving this despite the odd note of the opoponax. Wet: This musk is right on the edge of what my skin can handle, but the clove is a good choice as the blend so well. The pepper really comes out on the skin. The whole thing develops a sense of unfolding teeth and claws. Mmmm…. Tonka and neroli. This is so rich and complex and exciting. This is the growl in the back of a sexy man’s throat, promising danger and excitement. Dry: Clovey musk mostly, with a little of the other elements lingering. This really is right on the edge of musks I can wear, as if the clove is clinging to it’s arm, trying to pull it back. Spicy and sexy.

Algernon Charles Swinburne All the night sleep came not upon my eyelids, Shed not dew, nor shook nor unclosed a feather, Yet with lips shut close and with eyes of iron Stood and beheld me. Then to me so lying awake a vision Came without sleep over the seas and touched me, Softly touched mine eyelids and lips; and I too, Full of the vision, Saw the white implacable Aphrodite, Saw the hair unbound and the feet unsandalled Shine as fire of sunset on western waters; Saw the reluctant Feet, the straining plumes of the doves that drew her, Looking always, looking with necks reverted, Back to Lesbos, back to the hills whereunder Shone Mitylene; Heard the flying feet of the Loves behind her Make a sudden thunder upon the waters, As the thunder flung from the strong unclosing Wings of a great wind. So the goddess fled from her place, with awful Sound of feet and thunder of wings around her; While behind a clamour of singing women Severed the twilight. Ah the singing, ah the delight, the passion! All the Loves wept, listening; sick with anguish, Stood the crowned nine Muses about Apollo; Fear was upon them, While the tenth sang wonderful things they knew not. Ah the tenth, the Lesbian! the nine were silent, None endured the sound of her song for weeping; Laurel by laurel, Faded all their crowns; but about her forehead, Round her woven tresses and ashen temples White as dead snow, paler than grass in summer, Ravaged with kisses, Shone a light of fire as a crown for ever. Yea, almost the implacable Aphrodite Paused, and almost wept; such a song was that song. Yea, by her name too Called her, saying, "Turn to me, O my Sappho;" Yet she turned her face from the Loves, she saw not Tears for laughter darken immortal eyelids, Heard not about her Fearful fitful wings of the doves departing, Saw not how the bosom of Aphrodite Shook with weeping, saw not her shaken raiment, Saw not her hands wrung; Saw the Lesbians kissing across their smitten Lutes with lips more sweet than the sound of lute-strings, Mouth to mouth and hand upon hand, her chosen, Fairer than all men; Only saw the beautiful lips and fingers, Full of songs and kisses and little whispers, Full of music; only beheld among them Soar, as a bird soars Newly fledged, her visible song, a marvel, Made of perfect sound and exceeding passion, Sweetly shapen, terrible, full of thunders, Clothed with the wind's wings. Then rejoiced she, laughing with love, and scattered Roses, awful roses of holy blossom; Then the Loves thronged sadly with hidden faces Round Aphrodite, Then the Muses, stricken at heart, were silent; Yea, the gods waxed pale; such a song was that song. All reluctant, all with a fresh repulsion, Fled from before her. All withdrew long since, and the land was barren, Full of fruitless women and music only. Now perchance, when winds are assuaged at sunset, Lulled at the dewfall, By the grey sea-side, unassuaged, unheard of, Unbeloved, unseen in the ebb of twilight, Ghosts of outcast women return lamenting, Purged not in Lethe, Clothed about with flame and with tears, and singing Songs that move the heart of the shaken heaven, Songs that break the heart of the earth with pity, Hearing, to hear them. Tonka, oakmoss, tolu balsam, grey amber, myrrh, and muguet. In bottle: sweet and sensual. Amber, tanka, and myrrh on top. I looked up muguet, which seems to be French for lily of the valley, if so, I am guessing it’s responsible for the very faint floral tinge to this. I’d not encountered I am guessing that beautiful new resin overlay is the tolu balsam. In any case, in the bottle, I’m getting a gloriously unique resin blend. Wet: Heaven. If you like amber based resin scents, this may very well be the queen of them. Dry: Very gentle and somehow familiar, though I’m not able to put my finger on why. It is more feminine than anything I generally wear except Dia De Les Muertos, but I will likely where it anyway because it is that good.

skekNa the Slave-Master The essence of vile gluttony: an abundance of spices, sweet cakes, thick creams, and opulent liqueurs mixed with the scent of whip leather and rusted padlocks. In bottle: A little overwhelming in the bottle. It’s as if the liqueurs have slightly curdled the cream. I blame the rum I strongly suspect is the dominant note. The spices are lovely and blending well with both liqueur and cream as well as tying them together with the soft cake background. The leather and rust form a second faction in counterpoint to the dominant foodie faction. On further consideration, it might be one of these pulling the cream slightly off. The leather is the stronger of the two in this faction, but the rust is dancing with the spice in some interesting ways. I’m not convinced it works in bottle, but my fingers are crossed for how it smells on skin. Wet: Still liqueur dominant, but softer and sweeter on the skin as the cake is now strong enough to smooth the edges. The cream is purer now, so it’s disentangled from whatever was throwing it off. The spices are softer, but continue to tie things together. The cream and spices melt into the leather accord around the edges and the metallics fade into an accent. As it wears, the spices move to dominance as the liqueurs settle down. This is when it really starts to work for me, though I think there may be a scootch too much rum. Dry: Mostly spice over a sweet wash of cake and liqueur.

Daphne honey. In bottle: Chalky and very sweet with a sharp edge. Wet: Prickly on the skin, so I’m a bit worried about allergens. It is a lot like honeysuckle only with an almost fruity edge. It goes a little plastic on me. The honey is quite strong and distinct. Lots of throw Dry: The plastic backs off, the effect is a rather sharp, almost bitter berry, stcky with honey sort of floral. Not my thing, but very womanly.

Black hellebore honey. In bottle: It’s a soft, yet sharp floral over honey. The effect is rather like cool tiile and dried flowers in a guest bathroom. Wet: Much more interesting. It is sharp and crisp and vaguely bitter berry/crushed plant. This is bright and scinilatting and utterly unlike it is in the bottle. In distinctly garden, but though it’s got a floreal element, I wouldn’t class it as floral. It’s more whole plant, freshly cut. I am really likeling this. The throw is excellent. Dry: It goes a touch flowery and is more floral on the dry down, but it’s still quietly lovely.

JUPITERIAN PHOENIX O Jove much-honor'd, Jove supremely great, To thee our holy rites we consecrate, Our pray'rs and expiations, king divine, For all things round thy head exalted shine. The earth is thine, and mountains swelling high, The sea profound, and all within the sky. Saturnian king, descending from above, Magnanimous, commanding, sceptred Jove; All-parent, principle and end of all, Whose pow'r almighty, shakes this earthly ball; Ev'n Nature trembles at thy mighty nod, Loud-sounding, arm'd with light'ning, thund'ring God. Source of abundance, purifying king, O various-form'd from whom all natures spring; Propitious hear my pray'r, give blameless health, With peace divine, and necessary wealth. A blessing of optimism, prosperity, and sound judgment: sarsaparilla, juniper berries, Himalayan cedar, Terebinth pine, sweet clove, green tea, nutmeg, and hyssop. In bottle: Strongly woody with the pine and cedars doing lovely things together. Hyssop, juniper, and sarsaparilla form a second tier of support. I am not fond of juniper, and it's definitely noticeable here, but it blends well. Green tea is acting as a sort of glue, tying thing together. The spice is soft, but lovely with the other notes, particularly the woods and the tea. It makes me think of the unlaquered interior of a wooden box used to store pungent seasoning and tea. It's lovely in a 19th century sort of way. Wet: even better on the skin as the warmth brings out the individual qualities of the components. Pine is now dominant over the cedar with the hyssop moving into second. Cedar is third, juniper, clove, tea, and sarsaparilla are forth. I'm loving this. Dry: Woody goodness with hyssop support, and a hint here and there of the rest. Lovely.

TARANTULA FASCINATOR This summer, Lilith got to play with a ton of bugs, reptiles, and other wigglies during a special event at her preschool. She made a new friend that day – Ursula the Tarantula. “Lilith, what would a tarantula smell like?” “Maybe fuzzy chocolate? With stripes?” Done and done: fuzzy cacao-drenched hazelnut with hay absolute, black pepper, and nutmeg, laced with stripes of wild plum and white sandalwood. In bottle: this really does suit it’s concept. The dominant cocoa note does read as “fuzzy” when supported by sandalwood and hay. The hazelnut adds a richness to the cocoa. The spices give a prickliness to the cocoa. The plum is a surprising counterpoint to the cocoa, giving a sense of unpredictable movement. Wet: Simpler on the skin. The Cocoa is still strongest with the plum in second as counterpoint. The hay and sandalwood fade into each other, still supporting the chocolate, while the hazelnut and nutmeg fade into the cocoa a bit. The pepper keeps its sharpness. Dry: Mostly cocoa and plum with some sandalwood and nutmeg.

PETE LALA'S CAFE Dusty leather, dry cedar and fir, fresh tobacco smoke, and the scent of tucked-away gris gris bags for luck in love, potency, and virility. Review: They aren’t kidding about the cedar. The fir is next strongest. I’m likely the tobacco laced wood and the earthy, dusty, vaguely herbal edge. This is beautiful and evocative.

POMEGRANATE III Pomegranate, Tamil Nadu sandalwood, lavender, tamarind, hazelnut, Atlas cedarwood, sugar date, bitter clove, and Arabian myrrh. In bottle: This is sharp and dry and definitely Autumnal. The cederwood evokes wooden barrels. This is pleasantly bitter, yet sweet and spicy. Each element adds a special spin to the whole. The hazelnut is the least distinct, but all elements add to the special old time general store in autumn feel of this. I’m particularly impressed by the way the tamarind, lavender, and clove play with each other in this, but it’s all lovely and all unexpected. Wet: The myrrh is less friendly on my skin and the cedar sharper, but the strengthening of the pomegranate, date, and tamarind help it find a new balance with my natural skin chemistry. It’s still not as lovely as it was in the bottle, but it’s trying very hard. Dry: cloved pomegranate mostly, with hints of the others, enough to retain interest. It’s a bit desiccated, but it still works.

For a very gothy Yule. Black licorice slurry with blackcurrant, black fig, and mulberries. In bottle: Mulberry and black current dominant, richly juicy. The fig grounds it and the licorice gives it a bit of bite. This is deliciously designed, if you are looking for a dark berry blend. Wet: The current and mulberry differentiate more one the skin, but still work together beautifully. The berries are flatter and less juicy though still lovely. The fig lends it a gentle warmth. The licorice fades into the background. Dry: Fast fading. Mostly mulberry kissed with currant.

BUT MEN LOVED DARKNESS RATHER THAN LIGHT The world's light shines, shine as it will, The world will love its darkness still. I doubt though when the world's in hell, It will not love its darkness half so well. The world will love its darkness: cistus labdanum, ginger, East Indian patchouli, pimento berry, oakmoss, saffron, smoky vanilla, sage, myrrh, and bitter clove. In Bottle: This is lovely. The spice and the incense are bridged by the rich smokey vanilla. There is a touch more patchouli than I like, but honestly, the blend is so interesting and complex, I don’t much care. Wet: It reminds be a little of ventriloquist dummy, with that odd combination of food and dust, but the berry and vanilla are really it’s saving grace, as it warms, it transforms the patchouli and the dryer of the incenses back into something soft and wet. I’m not a big fan of berry, but this is unusual and modest, supporting and strengthening the other elements and helping the clove, sage, and myrrh to really shine here. The longer it wears, the less like Dummy it gets. It reminds me of church after services in Advent, the lights dim, but the air still warm from all those bodies and filled with spice, bayberry candle scent, and expectation. And then the oakmoss comes out and were in a mossy dark cave with incense and eggnog, and those strange, glorious berries. Dry: The berries end up strongest at the end. It still has a lovely spice edge and a hint of incense. Whether you’ll like this probably depends on if you like the less sweet, somewhat sour type of berries common in Christmas scents. I really did like this, but if you’re expecting sweeter berries, you’ll be disappointed.

The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person. He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His head was small, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock, perched upon his spindle neck, to tell which way the wind blew. To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging and fluttering about him one might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield. . . . From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of travelling gazette, carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house; so that his appearance was always greeted with satisfaction. He was, moreover, esteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had read several books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton Mather's history of New England Witchcraft, in which, by the way, he most firmly and potently believed. He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple credulity. His appetite for the marvellous, and his powers of digesting it, were equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his residence in this spellbound region. No tale was too gross or monstrous for his capacious swallow. It was often his delight, after his school was dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the rich bed of clover, bordering the little brook that whimpered by his school-house, and there con over old Mather's direful tales, until the gathering dusk of the evening made the printed page a mere mist before his eyes. Then, as he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful woodland, to the farmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited imagination: the moan of the whip-poor-will from the hill-side; the boding cry of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of the screech-owl, or the sudden rustling in the thicket of birds frightened from their roost. The fire-flies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him, as one of uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if, by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging his blundering flight against him, the poor varlet was ready to give up the ghost, with the idea that he was struck with a witch's token. His only resource on such occasions, either to drown thought, or drive away evil spirits, was to sing psalm tunes;-and the good people of Sleepy Hollow, as they sat by their doors of an evening, were often filled with awe, at hearing his nasal melody, "in linked sweetness long drawn out," floating from the distant hill, or along the dusky road. Dusty black wool, tea with cream, black pepper, muguet, and beeswax candle drippings. In bottle: Deliciously insencey. The pepper lends edge. The wool, tea, cream combination is very pleasant. The label is insanely cute, BTW. Wet: Edgier with a bit more muget. I am thinking it’s actually the lily of the valley that was coming off as incense in the bottle when mixed with the beeswax. This stunning, really in a quiet sneak up on you sort of way. It is more floral than I was expecting, but the whole is so well blended, I don’t particularly mind. Dry: heartbreakingly beautiful floral that simply won’t suit me. This is very sad indeed as it’s that yummy.

One can often find Capricorn for swap or sale.

A torpid black nougat with belladonna honey, somnolent lavender, and thyme. In bottle: I’m guessing it’s the sort of nougat with embedded almonds as the strong nougat scent has a distinctive almond flavour to it. The honey is strong and gives the impression of sweet gooiness. The lavender is a perfect accent to the nougat. The thyme is understated and clever, giving a special unexpected twist without being particularly strong compared to the other element. Wet: The honey is overwhelming the nougat a little, but luckily does not drown it. The lavander continues to be delicious with the nougat. The thyme is now most a hint than a reality. Dry: Mostly honey.

PLACOPHOBIA Fear of tombstones. Jagged claws of crumbling stone thrusting through tear-soaked moss. In bottle: Mmm… Exactly what it says in the description. The moss is strongest lying on a bed of moist earth, but the stone pokes through, with the faintest kiss of salty aquatics. Wet: Way more subtle on the skin. The stone accord now sings, surprisingly dominant. The rich moss and loam support the stone giving its place in the spotlight. I'd swear there were granite and sandstone both here. The salty kiss is the faintest of accent, but lovely with the moss. This is unusual. It is hard to get stone accord to sing and dance like this even for a short time, even with such a lovely setting for it. Dry: Moss dominant with a hint of stone and dirt.

MOON OF THE TERRIBLE On New Year's Day each thought a loneliness as winter dusk descends Desolation at the last moment in the gloaming on New Year's Day: winter snow with white lavender, benzoin, lychee, white resins, and a cluster of melancholy, lachrymose lunar herbs. In bottle: The snow note it extremely dominant, but it’s the non-peppermint mint version which I can usually wear, with strong support from benzoin, lavender, and herbs. The herbs go particularly well with snow and lavender in this blend. The Lychee provides a sweet counterpoint with resins in support. It’s really interesting, but might be to heady for wearing. Wet: The lavender steps into dominance of the skin with snow in strong support with the herbs complicating them. The benzoin smoothes transition with the lychee and resins. As it warms, the snow moves back into dominance with the herbs in strong support. It’s quite the morpher. It also has big throw. Dry: Mostly snow kissed with lavender, and nard.

THE TRACKLESS ERG The merciless sun pounds on a sea of endless, wind-battered sand: desolate, lifeless, silent, and without end. In bottle: It's lovely and delicate and hard to explain. It's got a middle eastern incense feel to it. The individual elements are familiar, but hard to place without context. I'm guessing sandalwood and balsam are mixed in with other desert adjacent incense, and fragrant woods, and spices. I'm calling it balsam dominant. It may contain one of the paler musks, but that could just be my skin.

NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay. Dewy green leaves colored by Moroccan amber, ginseng, and rooibos. In bottle: This is a tangy, enticing, green leaf sort of scent. It should smell like high end shampoo, but it doesn’t. The ginseng it to feisty, the leaves are too fierce. The tea and amber are lovely in this, warm and friendly. It makes one thing of sitting on the porch watching rain fall through trees while sipping tea. It’s more than the sum of it’s parts. Wet: It smoothes out on the skin, but keeps the characteristic tang and the fierceness of the leaves. I can think of no other scent quite like it. It is unexpected and riveting. Dry: Softer, less complex. Leaf dominant, with a ginseng kick and some soft amber in the background. It’s nice, but less stunning than it was new.

That's one of my favorites too.

HALLOWEEN: NEW ORLEANS I’ve spent many, many Halloweens in New Orleans. To me, it is the most beautiful, most imperfectly perfect city in the world. My strongest memory is of sitting on the banks of the Mississippi in the arms of my someday husband, the sounds of revelry in the distance, enveloped by the scent of water, moss, and sweet olive. The distinctive scent of the Mississippi at night mingling with sweet olive and Spanish moss. It's not the humid decay of the overgrown Bayou - this is the manicured city itself. The moss is light and sweet olive tree almost floral, giving this a bright, lemony kind of vibe. Because the scent is based on a happy memory, it doesn't surprise me that her scent memory is glorious, clear, bright and fresh. It's a memory of a quiet, unpeopled space save for the lovers looking past the trees into the water. I love it. In bottle: The moss is sharp, rising over gentle olive and a thick dark vaguely ozoney aquatic. I can’t decide if I like it, but I’m fascinated never the less. Wet: Warmer and spicier. I know there is no citrus listed, but it feels the way lemon smells, only dirty. The citrus effect is strong enough to overwhelm most of the rest of it, though I can still pick out moss and olive. Dry: Dry moss and olive with wet, dark swirling aquatic. The aquatic is dominant, modified by the plants. It’s a bit unsettling.