ceiswyn

In the bottle: It's green. How can I not love something that's green? At first smell it's sweet, and then it becomes very green and herbal, like damp undergrowth on a wet day. On the wrist: Mmm. I love this. I smell of pure plant. I know I know this scent, but apparently I fail at leaf-smell identification. Or maybe it's just all the memories of wandering through wet woodland. That's the smell from a distance; with my nose against my wrist the smell is oddly sweet, and very intense. One hour later: It's actually reminding me of Lush's 'Tramp' shower gel, which I used to adore. Close to the wrist the sweetness is quite strong, and the 'dampness' has a strong edge; not quite an aquatic (thank gods) but it hovers dangerously close. But through it all, it's still dark green and planty. Num. Three hours later: With time, the 'plant' part of the smell fades, leaving the sweet and slightly aquatic scents. It's a 10/10 for the first hour, but as it ages it becomes maybe a 6.

In the bottle: An overwhelming blend of flowers and fruit. Really very lovely indeed. On the skin: On my skin it immediately goes a little darker, a little muskier. Oh, this is truly lovely. And makes me realise that I really have no idea what crocuses, snowdrops or lilies smell like. Very deep, very rich, apparently; a heady, heavy scent a little like honeysuckle. One hour later: Pleasant, still, but surprisingly faded. It seems flowers don't last long on my skin.

This was the perfume that made me go 'yum' and put it on my wrists immediately on smelling it. I've been looking forward to trying it again In the bottle: Definitely smells of flowers; the orange blossom is unmistakeable. There's also something strongly not-sweet that I can't identify under the flowers. Looking back at the description that should be the rosemary, but I'm not sure... On the wrist: Orange blossom. Definitely orange blossom. With added sweetness, presumably from the rose, that I can't quite identify. One hour later: I'm not sure quite why it smells to me like lying on a sunny beach, given that there's nothing suntan-lotion-like to it, but it does. Maybe that's the rosemary showing through the orange blossom, though there's still nothing actively rosemary-smelling. It's almost-but-not-quite pure orange blossom, and oh, how I love orange blossom. It mellows and sweetens a little as the day goes on, but five hours later, I can still smell it.

In the bottle: Aaaaah. An initial very strong, sweet rose is followed by a sudden cinnamon rush. I could eat this. On the wrist: The scent doesn't seem quite as strong as I expected, and it's changeable. Sometimes I think it's all rose, sometimes it's strongly cinnamon. Gradually it settles into a slightly odd fusion of the two; more greenery than flowery, and still surprisingly faint. One hour later: I've been catching occasional whiffs of cinnamon and rose. It smells very edible, but faint, faint. Too faint, I think, for me. Which is a pity, because once you get your nose close enough, it's lovely...

In the bottle: The bottle scent is unprepossessing. Its a little like flowers, but dryer, more astringent. The quality of the scent is a little like orange blossom, which I can faintly detect. On the wrist: It sweetens on the wrist; dry or musky perfumes usually do, on me. Oh, yes. Definitely orange blossom, but sweeter, headier. As it dries a very strong, fruity sweetness (must be the combination of apple, rose and vanilla) comes through with a hint of teak. This is becoming really rather nice; an almost oversweet tropical flower fragrance, like distilled sunlight. One hour later: Sweet, very sweet; flowers with the faintest hint of vanilla and apple, growing slightly musky around the edges. Over the next few hours it gradually gets muskier, but remains sweet and pleasant.

In the bottle: A sweet-sharp, light scent. It reminded me of something, but I couldn't remember what. Definitely fruits and flowers, but my feeble nose failed entirely to pick out individual notes. On the wrist: When first applied the scent becomes more flowery than fruity; a scent of ylang ylang started to show through the rest, though I haven't actually checked the ingredients to see whether I'm being madasafish. The fruity turned into fruit-flavoured sweets: I thought of pear drops and those rhubarb-and-custard sweets that taste of neither rhubarb nor custard. One hour later: Pear drops. Definitely pear drops. On the left wrist, that is. On the right wrist it's still definitely pear droppy, but there's a slightly muskier under tone and still a hint of the flowers from earlier.

On the wrist: Apricots. Apricots everywhere. The alcohol behind seems to give it a slight dryness and sharpness, but mmm, oh yes, apricots. Like sun-warmed apricots on the branch on my right wrist, with an alcoholic sharpness and slight spiciness on my left. My friends can attest to how much scents differ between my wrists. It's kind of like two scents for the price of one. Oh, the crosses I have to bear. One hour later: The smell hasn't changed much. A mellower apricot, turning more 'sweet' than specifically 'apricot', on the right wrist, and definite apricot with the spiciness of brandy, though without smelling particularly alcoholic, on the left.

In the bottle: Ooh, this is edible. Something smells faintly chocolatey - or maybe vanilla-y - but there's something woody behind it too. Not sandalwood, this time; this must be the myrrh. On the wrist: Biscuits. Those soft cinnamon-spicy biscuits our family often had around Christmas time. The wood smell is a little fainter, but still there; I'm thinking of biscuits in a wooden presentation box. Oh god I'm hungry. One hour later: There is no cinnamon. There is no myrrh. There is only a glorious mellow blend of both, gradually fading towards vanilla as it ages. Omnomnomn.

In the bottle: The strongly sandalwoody smell mostly overpowers any other scents. On the wrist: Still strongly woody, but (as usually happens on me) a number of sweet notes begin to make themselves known. A spicy cinnamon is the foremost of these, and the only one I can place. It mixes very nicely with the wood; it's hard to tell where one ends and the next begins. One hour later: Spice. Oh yes. It's a hot night on the silk road, and the air is thick with spices inside the tent where the rich merchants watch the girls dance. The sandalwood is still there somewhere, but now the strongest scents are of patchouli and cinnamon. And you wouldn't believe the difficulty I had unsticking my wrists from my nose to type that