Bluestocking

In the imp: Spicy licorice from the star anise and soft, sweet cherry, with something like... plum, almost. The sandalwood is extremely faint, and the overall scent is drier and spicier than I imagined, but appealing. Not as sweet as I expected (and hoped) it would be--it's a faint and distant, diffuse sweetness, like the cherry blossoms are at a distance and being carried on the breeze. On, wet: More cherry and sandalwood, less anise. Subtly sweet and a bit woody. It's very, very light--a pale pink kind of scent. Later: Sweeter now, and the cherry and star anise have blended, so there's definitely some nice dry spice over the cherry blossoms. The sandalwood is a very subdued base here, though it's coming out more as time goes on. Overall: It's lightweight and breezy, pleasant and really quite delicate—possibly too delicate for my taste, which surprises me, though I'll admit that it is soothing. This one does seem to fade quickly, too; it's pretty much gone for me within a few hours. Still, it seems like it would be a good spring scent, so I might give it another shot when the weather is warmer.

In the imp: Excellent! It's a very fresh, light and citrusy floral fragrance, with definite lemon, grapefruit and tea. I can smell the orchid in there somewhere, along with the barest suggestion of mint—it's not aggressively minty, but it's just freshening things up, as white mint does. On, wet: Lemon, grapefruit and pale white tea, with that delicious freshness of the white mint. I think I'm in love with this one. It's so smooth! On, dry: I'm starting to get a little bit of leather and some very beautiful, nuanced sweetness from the orchid—less lemon, but that fresh quality remains. Gah, this just gets better and better. Later: Oh, bliss! It mellows to an exotic, subtle and rich teak/orchid/amber combo, with just a whisper of leather—think gleaming wood, dim lighting, polished leather chairs and designer clothes. Most definitely the sweet smell of success, not to mention sleek and stylish luxury. Overall: Elegant, posh, sophisticated and smoothly stunning. It looks like such an odd collection of notes on the page, but they all work together so well, blending seamlessly into something greater than its individual parts. I don't know if it smells like Manhattan--maybe the Manhattan of Sex and the City?--but it's a definite winner for me. I'd bathe in this stuff if it wouldn't bankrupt me.

Where's the love for Epistrophia? She's beautiful! In the bottle: Mmm, a resiny floral, soft and very purple. I get mostly iris and orchid, with a touch of violet and some nice warmth from the frankincense and amber. It's very feminine and Springy. On, wet: Ylang-ylang and iris, with the sweet, pure orchid right behind. (Just like always, I'm in love with the orchid.) The frankincense is down below, adding a touch of spice and depth to all the floral notes. It's very ladylike and somehow airy, even with the resins. On, dry: Orchid and violet, with a trace of iris. It's almost like the florals here are taking turns in the spotlight, as they're given depth and sweetness by the amber and frankincense. It's a pure-hearted perfume, softly sweet and virtuous, and this particular combination of incense-y resin and florals seems quite Victorian to me. Later: All the flowers together now (except for ylang-ylang, which is MIA)—a nosegay of purple blooms enriched by the glowing, golden amber. Surprisingly, it doesn't get very powdery–these are sweet, fresh flowers, not crumbly relics, and there's something almost fruity here, even though there's no fruit listed. Much later: The amber and frankincense have come forward more, and that sweetness combined with the very purple flowers actually makes this smell almost-but-not-quite like poppies to me—reminiscent of Dragon's Reverie, but not so heavy, more ethereal. (Scratch that. Not Dragon's Reverie--now I realize that this is a lighter-weight Purple Phoenix in its later stages, which is just fine by me!) Overall: On the label, Epistrophia is pretty, feminine and modest, covering her naked breast from view. The perfume delivers on the promise—it's a demure and delicate floral, a maidenly sort of scent. It has a soft and dreamy quality about it, and (like every other Ode to Aphrodite scent) it's very well blended. No one flower dominates, not even the orchid or the violet, and the resins are restrained, just burnishing the flowers and adding richness. All in all, it's a lovely, subtle scent and it feels perfect for the Spring.

In the imp: Smoke and ozone like whoa to begin, over a backdrop of something dense, green and earthy, even swampy—primordial is the word, all right. I'm in the middle of Jurassic Park, sans Dinosaur poo. On, wet: Still some smoke, still ozone, still green, but I'm also getting some… sweetness? Wow, that's unexpected. Apparently there are some exotic flowers on the island or something. On, dry: The smoke is retreating to the background, and the spicy-sweet resins and flowers are coming forward. (Is this dragon's blood resin? I haven't smelled it before, so I can't tell.) The ozone is still hanging out, and there's something fresh, like mint. This scent is really quite amazing and complex. Later: The smoke retreats for good after about half an hour, leaving lush, spicy floral loveliness, cut through with a hint of sharp, zingy ozone and mint and ocean. It dries down to spicy-sweet tropical flowers and incense on me, which is not at all what I expected, though I'm definitely not displeased. Overall: This is a completely wild, uninhabited island in a bottle, untouched by time—strange and strangely alluring. I'm not sure this is a big bottle purchase, but I like it enough to keep this imp.

In the imp: Surprisingly light and sweet, almost-but-not-quite floral. Huh. Mostly date palm, with a subtle earthy scent beneath that suggests the leather—very light, though, not in-your-face leather. Astonishingly, the note I expected to dominate—tobacco—is nowhere to be found. Anyway, it's surprisingly light and pretty, and it makes me think more of Cuba's climate than it does of the nightclubs and cigars of Havana. On, wet: Oh, THERE are all the earthy smells! They come out the instant Havana hits my skin, particularly the leather and snakeroot, and the light, sweet, pretty date palm is almost totally gone. The leather and snakeroot are strong and giving this an almost dirty, plant-like aroma, shifting this decidedly to the masculine category… although even as I write this, the leather is sinking down and melding with the date palm again. Hmm, that's better—strong, not girly, but with enough sweetness that I could call it unisex. Weirdly, the tobacco still hasn't come out. (Additional strangeness: the waft smells much sweeter than the area where the perfume was applied.) On, dry: The dirt smell from the dry down disappeared pretty quickly, and now the snakeroot and tobacco (finally emerging) are anchoring everything, adding lots of earthiness. Date palm is still on top, but it's finished merging with the leather, so that I get mostly sweet date when it wafts, but when I take a deeper sniff, there's that sexy leather right behind, keeping this from getting too sweet. Later: Leather and earthy tobacco, with a trace of the sweet dates. It's a drier scent now, a bit cologne-like, still with some sweetness and—I swear—just a hint of smoke. This is closest to what I originally imagined Havana would be like, and it's nice. Very light, though; I practically have to mash my nose into my wrist to smell it. Overall: Nice, and yet not quite what I was looking for out of this one. It does finally achieve the scent I'd expected—the earthy-sweet-smoky, slightly gritty scent that suggests hot sun, men's cologne, fine cigars and a cocktail made with rum—but it takes a long time to get there for me, and by then it's very, very light. I was also disappointed that the tobacco isn't as strong as the note in Antikythera Mechanism or Plunder. There's a nice leather note here, but overall this is only okay for me.

In the imp: Very dry cedar and holy incense with soft lotus and a touch of something tangy, almost citrusy. It does smell a bit like Cathedral, but the lotus sweetens the dry woods, and makes it smell less like a stodgy church and more like a temple. Still, there is an incense-of-ages quality to it. On, wet: A big whoosh of lotus, and then it's almost a dead ringer for Cathedral… and then it becomes less so with every minute. It has the same bone-dry cedar and incense quality, but it's sweeter and spicier, as the saffron and spices wake up and the lotus rounds everything out. On, dry: Mmmm, I've never been to Kathmandu, but this does indeed smell the way I imagine it would: ancient and sacred, exotic and yet comforting. I'm getting mostly the sweet lotus, with glorious wafts of spices (especially the saffron). It's grounded by the cedar and sandalwood, which are still there, just not as dry and sharp as they were to start. For a wood-incense scent, it's surprisingly light. Later: Spice and lotus, with lingering wafts of wood and incense smoke. It's very light already, but it's lovely. Overall: I had high hopes for Kathmandu, and it didn't let me down. It has the things I enjoyed about Cathedral, but it's lighter, sweeter and less dry, which is perfect; it smells like a living marketplace and not a crumbling building. It has a serene, mystical quality that I really love, which comes from the combination of those ancient-smelling woods and that sweet, hopeful lotus. I've been looking for the perfect incense-type blend, and I think this might be the one for me! It might make for a beautiful room scent, too.

In the imp: The aroma of a flower market, where the blooms are so fresh that they're still damp with dew, with a softer, darker undercurrent of musk. The lily of the valley stands out particularly, with a hint of rose and some spicy carnation. I don't get the amber or citrusy aromas yet. At a sniff, I'd say this is a bit like Venice. On, wet: Oh, heavenly. Amazingly, the flowers smell even fresher, with a hint of green stem and leaf, and the bergamot and tangerine give it wonderful brightness—not enough to scream "citrus," but enough to give it zing. The flower notes are well blended and difficult to separate; rose and lily are most prominent, but I catch a little spice from the carnations and a touch of sweet jasmine. There's still a sense of that earthier dark musk beneath, adding some depth and serving as a base for the flowers. On, dry: Most of the citrus is gone, but the flowers are blended better than ever. The carnations are more prominent now, adding some nice spice, but they each contribute a little something. The amber has shown up and merged with the earthy musk to give this a dark, golden undertone—it does have a sort of "gilded," imperial feel to it. Later: Sweet, musky amber and spicy carnation, with a faint hint of rose and jasmine. Sticks very close to the skin, but still lovely. Overall: If you're looking for a clean, sweet-spicy floral that's both classic and classy, then you'll be very happy with Moscow. It does have some superficial similarities with Venice, which is also lush and womanly, but Moscow doesn't have the purple aspect or the decadent sensuality of Venice; it's fresher, brighter, more refined. It keeps making me think of a well-dressed, regal woman walking through the kind of flower market where the blooms are fresh cut and brilliantly colored and exquisite.

In the bottle: Well, hello there, pink pepper! Pothon Meter is obviously a saucy girl, to judge from all the ginger-spicy pink pepper that dominates the bottle scent. Behind the pink pepper are the berries, and I can also get a little rich caramel and a touch of the rose, but everything else is hiding. It reminds me of Hermia a bit, without the sticky-sweet nectar aspect. On, wet: Still very spicy, still loads of pink pepper, but it's merging with the caramel and cognac now, so it's spicy-rich-sharp. The roses are still far off in the background, and there's something else there, too, woody-green—I'm thinking it's the balsam of Peru. On the whole, it's a very vibrant, feisty perfume. On, dry: Oh, now this is nice. The pepper has died down a bit, and everything else has bloomed into this rich, full scent. The roses are the focus, sweet and the very tiniest bit powdery, but they aren't so dominant that they're crowding out the other notes. Caramel adds a touch of creaminess, there's some green from the balsam, the berries are juicy and sweet, and behind it all is that warm, spicy pink pepper. With some of these notes, you might think this would be foody, but it's still more floral; the foody elements just enhance it without dragging over into edible territory. Later: Mmmm, better than ever. By now it's a very sexy, well-blended floral, red and rich and warm. It's big, fat, perfect red roses, scattered with berries, spiked with the pink pepper and topped with a fine drizzle of caramel and cognac. If that sounds decadent, that's because this is. The wafts I'm getting from this one are heavenly, too—the kind of effect where you get a whiff and think "Wow, what smells so good?" Overall: Pothon Meter reminded me of Hermia in the bottle because of the pink pepper punch, but she's actually quite different—more like Hermia's voluptuous, sexy older sister. This is spicy and spirited, but also very sensual and feminine. It's also very well balanced, in that there are a lot of elements here that can be overpowering (berries, pink pepper, roses, caramel), but none of them dominates (if the rose or foody aspects scared you off, you might want to give this one a chance anyway). All in all, Pothon Meter is a knockout, and I suspect she's the kind of blend that will only get better with age.

In the imp: Hmm, interesting. Quite woody—maybe it would be more accurate to say woodsy--but otherwise somewhat difficult to classify. Vaguely masculine. Tonka is the primary scent, but I'm also getting touches of the fresh lime and what I think is lilac musk. On, wet: Wow, VERY interesting. Lots more lime and green scents along with just a hint of tonka—I'm definitely in some kind of forest. The lilac and wood violet give it just a tiny whiff of nice powder, but otherwise, this is all blackberry leaves and lime and shrubby little plants for me. The elements are sort of jostling for position, though, not always respectfully. On, dry: The tonka is warming up and flexing and the benzoin is making its presence known while the green, planty notes are sloooowly melding together. The overall effect is warm, slightly sweet, slightly powdery, but with a dark, smoky undertone. This is one of those where the wafts definitely smell better than my wrists do. Later: It was a struggle, but the tonka seems to have finally emerged victorious, with just a touch of the lilac musk. The sharper notes are firmly in the background now, but enough remains that the primary sensation this scent evokes is "Mmmmm, yeah… wait, what?" (Come to think of it, that fits awfully well here.) Overall: I like it enough to try it again, but not enough to immediately want to buy a bottle. There are other woodsy/forest scents that I like more, and for some reason, these disparate elements don't really come together for me until I've been wearing it for hours. The lilac musk and tonka aren't nearly as strong for me as they seem to have been for other testers, which is a shame, because I might have liked Lysander more in that case.

In the imp: Berry, berry strong! I'm getting almost all the fruit at the moment, juicy red berries and currants with a hint of tang/booziness from the wine and a whiff of the thyme. On, wet: Sweet fruit and wine, but the thyme seems to have done a disappearing act. It's now very red and bold, very sweet, though not cloying. Honestly, it's almost wholesome. Incongruously, it makes me think of red gingham and hampers full of fresh raspberries, which would be... odd for Lady Macbeth. Later: The thyme has reappeared and brought some green freshness, which reins in the almost candy sweetness of the red berries. There's more wine, too, which is making this less wholesome and a bit more ominous. The longer you wear this one—and it is both potent and super long-wearing—the more the darker, more sinister aspects are revealed. Overall: It's very nice, though sweet. It's very round and fruity, and when the green thyme comes out, it calls to mind ripe red berries, wild and fresh-picked, or perhaps a bottle of raspberry wine. Definitely a summery scent to my nose, though, so I might put this one away until warmer days arrive. Massive throw, and this lasts forever.

In the imp: Sweet, fruity, lush, summery. I'm getting a lot of peach, pear and sweet pea. It's very juicy and ripe-smelling, dewy and feminine. On, wet: Everything it was in the imp, with added grape and… I'm thinking that's snapdragon. Maybe just a whisper of the rose. There's more fruit than floral, but it's light and nicely balanced—rather delicate and…well, yes, fey. It practically glows. Later: Oh, so good! Mostly luscious sweet pea, with hints of the fruit. It's still very light and sweet and delicate, and it's exceptionally well blended because it's difficult to identify individual components. This is just a gracious, graceful blend of fruits and flowers at their most perfect. Overall: I'd go so far as to call this one enchanting; it has a golden, luminous quality to it that's very appealing. I really, really like it, and I wasn't sure that I would—fruity floral doesn't always appeal to me, but this is SO well done that I'd like more of this. Like, all over me. It's absolutely perfect for Spring and Summer.

In the imp: Ooh, unexpected! It's unabashedly girly and pink--a bright peachy-pink--although there's something buttery yellow about this scent to me, too. It's a floral, but not like most florals; it's fruity-spicy and calls to mind sticky golden nectar, rather than heady petals. This is all passion flower and amber at first, and then I get that warm ginger-spice from the pink pepper. It's very feminine and spirited—sweet, yes, but not without bite. I really was not prepared for Hermia to be so stunning. On, wet: Amazing. It has an almost buttery-lemony foody quality, I swear, although it's delicious. Passion flower remains the top note to me, followed closely by the pepper and then amber… but I detect a bit of honeysuckle piping up. Still, this is so well blended that it's already difficult to pick the notes apart. On, dry: Amber and pink pepper are stepping up, while the passion flower and honeysuckle have basically blended together for me. It's warm and ginger-spicy and beautiful—slightly mellowed and less sweet than it was initially, but still a knockout. Later: Warm amber, spicy ginger, and if I really try, I can smell the sweet florals still in there somewhere… but really, this is one perfect whole. It's a beautiful floriental, fresh and youthful but not immature, and even now it has me sniffing my wrist in search of more of that luscious scent. Overall: Sweet, sexy, sassy and feminine. What a winner this one is, and where I least expected it. Hermia was one of the few Illyria scents that wasn't on my list, but I got it as a frimp and… wow, I don't know why I underestimated this scent. Like Hermia, it's beautiful and unexpectedly fierce. If you can't stand sweetness or spice, this won't appeal, but I think everybody else will be charmed.

In the imp: Lush, exotic floral. As you might guess from the long list of components, it's hard to pick them all out, but I do get the orchid and nicotiana in the forefront. It's feminine, tropical and dense but not overpowering, and really… mmm, sensual might be the word. Maybe even erotic. On, wet: Oh, wow, I'm surprised by how beautiful this one is. It might be named for dirty, wicked pirates, but it smells like sitting out in the sunlight on a tropical veranda—some ocean breeze, some dense jungle greenery, some white linen, loads of big blossoms. I'm particularly getting the amazing orchid note and something that smells like gardenia (bois de chandel?), which I love. On, dry: More of the same, with a subtle hint of the earthy damp stone and greenness promised by the description. Still, the overwhelming impression is floral, sunny and lighthearted. If I didn't know that vetiver was a component here, I wouldn't guess it. Later: The same, but just more subtle and with an added hint of sweet richness, which I'm guessing is the palm wine. Bliss! Overall: Paradise in a bottle, making your troubles melt away. It's totally gorgeous, and I can't stop wanting to sniff it. Given the rate at which I'm using up my imps of this, this is a big bottle purchase. A big, big bottle.

I want to preface this by saying that I'm not an indiscriminate vetiver-hater, and I've liked other blends that have included it. In the imp: O HAI VETIVER. Seriously, smack-you-in-the-face, eye-watering, bullying vetiver. And, um... I guess the rest is burly, masculine and herbal, with a whiff of leather in the background. But whoa, the vetiver is a powerful, funky thing here. I'm anxious to see how this one evolves, because this is the first one I've smelled where I'm actually afraid to apply it. On, wet: Still a ton of smoky, stanky vetiver—it's smothering most of the other components for me. The leather's stronger, and I occasionally gets hints of the flowers, but it's more like the whisper of a legend of jasmine, if you know what I mean. I'd love to smell the listed floral notes (they're some of my faves), but they just aren't getting through that wall of vetiver. On, dry: Mercifully, my patience has been rewarded: the vetiver has died down a bit, and now everything is sort-of coming into balance. There's quite a bit of saddle leather, which is masculine but not hit-you-over-the-head strong, and now I'm also getting tiny whiffs of the jasmine and gardenia, with just a small touch of really earthy cinnamon. Later: Believe it or not, this is actually fading quite a bit after only a few hours of wear. It is if not nice, at least tolerable now, and extremely macho. Plenty of leather and the vetiver (thankfully subdued) hold the gardenia and jasmine back from ever having anything but a brief cameo in the scent. Instead, the florals soften the hard edge of the brutal vetiver just enough to keep it from completely splitting your head open like an axe. Overall: I had high hopes for this one based on the description, but that aggressive, overbearing vetiver isn't something I'm eager to experience again. I respect somebody who can make this one work, but it's just not my thing at all. I've felt that most blends could go either way, gender-wise, but this is 100% man to me—rugged, hairy and unwashed.

In the bottle: Orange, clove, nutmeg and dark smokiness… it smells like the dark side of Thanksgiving and Christmas, with the combo of orange and dry spices and smoke, and there's a lightly bitter undertone from the myrrh and artemesia. Beneath I get touches of the woody, green balsam and cypress. On, wet: The orange is fading, but more from the myrrh and cypress. Still lots of nutmeg and clove and smoke, which makes me think of clove cigarettes just a bit. It's a deceptively sweet scent if you just get a whiff of it, but on closer sniff, there's that bitter darkness underneath. Later: Mostly rosewood, myrrh and dark musk now, mellower and woody and somewhat sweet, but with hints of the spice and always a tinge of that ominous dark smoke. There's rose here, too—not full-on rose to me, but it's one of the many layers here. It's unexpectedly sensual and appealing. Overall: Woody, spicy, smoky and dark, both bitter and sweet—not necessarily cold or full-on villainous to me, but it definitely does suggest Richard's strange sexiness as well as his ruthlessness and bitterness. I like this, esp. for the autumn and winter, but a little goes a long way—there's a lot of throw, and it lasts a loooong time for me. Ultimately, it's an exceptionally complex and compelling scent, which makes it quite worthy of its name.

In the bottle: Spicy and resinous. I definitely get the sweet, resinous frankincense and myrrh, but the white wine grape sounds a fruity, acidic note that keeps it from being too sweet and heady. The cumin and coriander makes this really complex—smells like a spice market. On, wet: Mmm, frankincense and grape—it's a fruity, fizzy, sparkling effect, practically effervescent, and it makes me think of a black, starry sky or a glass of champagne. I get what people are saying about cola, but I don't smell that--I think it's to do with the combination of the white wine grape and resins. Anyway, it's a little bit of spicy church incense, with the faintest hint of vanilla. (Frankincense always, always makes me think of church, and this is no exception.) This is NOT a very sweet grape for me—it's dry and champagne-like. There's also something very faintly metallic here, which must be the gold. On, dry: Less cumin and coriander, more sweet and subtle. The grape and resins are melding together and the vanilla and ambergris have come forward, so now it has this rounded, golden glow to it. Later: Vanilla, frankincense and ambergris, with the white wine grape finally blending with the spices and moving away from center stage. It's still there, but it's beneath the vanilla and frankincense—quite a yummy combo. Overall: I'm quite pleased with this one. It's rich, golden and incense-y, as you would expect from the concept, but that fizzy, sparkling quality in the early stages is really something unusual. It isn't cola-like to me, but it makes me think of that long, long, cold journey to Bethlehem, following the star… just like the lovely art on the label, actually. Very cool.

In the bottle: At first sniff, it reminds me of Snow White, because it has that same cool, pale, hard-to-describe beauty (not to mention the coconut), but on a second sniff, it's not as similar—no almonds here. The coconut, white musk and tobacco flower hit me first, soft and white and lightly floral, but the oakmoss is underneath, giving this a sharper edge than Snow White and making it less sweet and more... it's not masculine at all, but the oakmoss carries a vaguely masculine vibe, so this is less out-and-out feminine. On, wet: Oakmoss and white musk, with the tobacco flower behind and occasional wafts of coconut and amber. As a scent, it's pure, luminous white, almost silvery. It's very light, clean and elegant. On, dry: The tobacco flower and amber have come forward, making this slightly sweeter, while the oakmoss is just beneath, adding that little bit of sharpness. The white musk pulls it all together and wraps in a shimmering glow. There is coconut here, too, but it's so light and blended in so well that it's difficult to pick out--I get it more in the wafts than from actually sniffing my wrist. Later: Slightly warmer and sweeter, but still difficult to describe; it just smells smooth and white and lightly floral. There's still an undercurrent of moss—enough to add depth and interest--but it's softened. Overall: Dia is not a dead ringer for Snow White, but she's clearly a sleek cousin, so if you like Snow White (I adore it), then chances are good that you'll appreciate Dia, too. She's feminine and soft but sophisticated, radiant and almost celestial, with some added complexity from the oakmoss. Although the scent is very clean and pure, it doesn't smell anything like a dryer sheet to me. (Although I'd be really, really delighted to have my fabric softener smell like Dia!) As a bonus, Dia has amazing staying power for a light scent—she lasted nearly 24 hours, and even after my morning shower, there was still a lingering hint. A definite winner for me!

In the bottle: Gorgeous glowing fruity floral, more fruity than floral at this point. I can pick out the ripe pear (as yummy here as in Titania) and the slightly more acidic white wine grape, which adds an almost-but-not-quite boozy note. Vanilla sweetens it all up. Very elegant, very nuanced and well blended. On, wet: Still pear, grape and vanilla, but I can smell the flowers starting to bloom, especially the heliotrope and white rose, so it's not 100% fruity now. It's still very juicy, though it's a little less sweet and nectar-like than it was in the bottle. This is a light, lovely rose, not powdery or overbearing—in fact, the heliotrope is stronger, which is fine by me, because it's beautiful. (I can't really pick out the lily, though I'm sure it's in there somewhere.) I'm also getting a tiny bit of the sandalwood, but it's a very deep undercurrent. On, dry: A big, gilded bouquet of ripe fruits and flowers, tied together with the sweet vanilla and sensual sandalwood. Although I'll occasionally get a sniff of pure pear or heliotrope, no one element dominates. The whiffs I keep getting are divine, very feminine and surprisingly sexy (in a classy way). Later: Vanilla, sandalwood and heliotrope, with lingering fruit just underneath to round it out and keep it from getting too sweet. The boozy element from earlier is gone, but the sandalwood and vanilla make this very sensual anyway. It keeps making me think of golden sunlight and baskets that are spilling over with fruit and blossoms. Overall: Sweet, lush, ripe and summery, Symmakhia is winsome and sensual, with good throw and staying power. There's something serenely charming about this one that I just love, and it's also extremely feminine without being prissy. It won't be a hit with those who don't like sweetness, but those who like fruity florals and vanilla (like me) should be very pleased.

In the bottle: On my very first sniff after uncapping it, I get something sharp and medicinal—possibly the hyssop? Anyway, that stinging quality vanished after that initial sniff, and now it's really complex—still some sharp edges, but nothing too pungent. Fresh bamboo with wet, slightly green woods and some warm, slithery musk beneath. There's also a definite herbal quality from the hyssop and chamomile… and I think the sweetness is pink clove plus fig, but I could be wrong. Overall, it's a pale green-gold scent to me, and very unusual. I haven't smelled another blend even remotely like this. On, wet: Much less sweetness, though there's still a bit of it. The instant it touched my skin, I got all kinds of layered, woody, herbal scents—wet bamboo, something like bark, a whiff of something like sandalwood, but not quite, and I swear I smelled a touch of something vetiver-esque that made me think of ancient, rotting trees. Walnut is coming through, and I think I get a little of the magnolia and fig, way far in the background. The musk is bringing it all together for me. Now I feel like I'm in a bamboo forest, maybe at sunset, with everything turning golden. On, dry: Hello, magnolia! The flowers have bloomed now, and they're giving this a lightly sweet, creamy quality, with the musk and toasty walnut/woods supporting it. This has decent throw for such a light scent, and the wafts I keep getting are beautiful—not quite floral, but not purely fresh or woody, either. When I sniff my wrist, I still get the herbs and green bamboo, too. All the jagged edges from the earlier stages have smoothed out, and now the elements play together very nicely. I'm not really getting anything that screams fig or clove; I think they're just adding some supplementary sweetness. Later: The fig woke up and blended together with the magnolia, so now there's fruit and more rich, creamy sweetness—not sweet like candy, but more like deep brown sugar. The walnut and woods have also blended together, dark and toasty and more of a dry wood (almost sandalwood) than this was early on. If the wet stage was like a bamboo forest at sunset, then the sun is just about to disappear—this is a darker, drier, burnished perfume now, grounded by the warm musk. Overall: I was nervous about this one—I love woody scents, but this had plenty of unknown elements and the medicinal smell in the bottle didn't ease my nerves. But. But! This is really quite beautiful—not exactly what I expected, but it's fresh and delicate and very original. Like Earth Phoenix, it's complex and morphs through a number of distinct stages (now fresh and wetly woody, now blooming and light, now dark and sweetly spicy). I think it does embody the element very well, and not just because of all the woods—it's a very adaptable and multilayered scent, with a lot of elements coming together to form something very unique. How's that for flexibility and cooperation? I'd urge you to look past the medicinal smell in the bottle, because this scent can be gorgeous.

As an Earth Sheep, I just HAD to try this one, even though the mention of dirt scared me. In the bottle: Wow, there's a lot to sniff. Right off the bat, I get cherry and then wet earth—not really a harsh dirt smell, as I feared, but something that smells cool and moist and pleasantly mineral to me—almost a bit like ozone. Beyond that, there's lovely deep musk, and then it's complex—spicy, fruity, sweet and yet not, with an unexpected freshness that makes me think of the aftermath of rain (again, that ozone quality). This is a very complex and sophisticated scent. On, wet: More of that damp earth, and then the juicy black cherry—definitely black cherry, because this is dark and almost wine-like, not a bright red, candied note. Underneath is more of the dark musk and some green cypress… and oh yeah, there's some smoky-sweet tobacco piping up, though not overpowering. In the background, I get tiny hints of the sweet jasmine and plum, but right now the earthy, darker scents are the focus. On, dry: YUM. Oh, yummy yum wow. One of the reviews noted that the sweeter elements bloom out of the soil note on this scent, and that's a perfect description. The jasmine and plum are rising up (though not out of control) and blending with the black cherry and tobacco, while the warm musks and that rich, damp soil note ground everything (heh) and keep the sweetness from being overwhelming. It's dark, sensual and earthy, and I love love love it. Then again, I'm not a Jasmine-hater. Later: Hard to pick out individual notes now—the black cherry, jasmine, plum, tobacco and opopponax have blended into one harmonious, sweet perfume, firmly rooted (heh again) in the deep black soil and sensual musks. Overall: I can't believe I love a soil-based scent this much! I'm so glad that I took a chance on this one, despite my fears about the dirt note, because it's quickly becoming a favorite. What a lovely, complex scent, and it perfectly demonstrates the virtues of Earth: grounded and supportive, exceptionally well balanced, deeply dark and sensual, capable of nurturing great beauty and sweetness.

In the imp: Very grand, very lush, very floral. It is complex—I get freshness from the lemon, and then lots of jasmine and rose and orris. Despite all the rich flowers, it's not too sweet, and I think that might be because of the tart lemon and red currant—they don't really make this a fruity floral, but they balance the mounds of sweet flower petals. On, wet: More lemon at first, and then the flowers—still mostly jasmine with lily and rose and orris root, though there's something else that's rounder and fruitier… might be the violet plum. It's not a super-sweet blend to me, but it's a rich and heady one—well-blended, too. This is just lush and womanly and confidently seductive—not prissy, not snooty, but bold. Wearing it feels like reclining on a thick bed of flower petals. Later: Softer, more mellow, but still very luxurious and feminine. I'm getting more of the purple scents now, like the violet plum and wisteria and orris root, along with the warm sandalwood. The overall effect is very sensual, and it's difficult to pick out individual notes. Overall: If this scent were colors, it would be red, gold and purple, and if this were a dress, it would be a billowing ball gown with a corset and bounteous cleavage. The description says the Renaissance, but to me, this is Casanova's Venice in all its decadent, gilded glory. I don't know how often I'd wear this, but I do like it.

In the bottle: Oh, YUM. It's sweet, but not remotely syrupy or cloying. I smell almonds, and I'm also getting some clean white flowers and white musk. Hard to explain, but it's both cool like snow and… soft. Glowing. It's almost like coconut, but not really. It's slightly floral, slightly fruity, a little bit musky, but nothing overtly so. Reminds me a bit of Angel—crystalline and beautiful--although this is much softer and subtler. On, wet: A little cooler, a little bit more musk, but still amazing and incredibly hard-to-define. There's something beautifully contradictory about the fresh coolness and radiant softness of the scent. This makes me think of those moments after a snowfall when the sunlight glitters on that perfect sheet of whiteness, frosty and elusive and beautiful. Later: Not much changed, actually. It's still just sweet and cool and really lovely. Overall: There's something white and pure and celestial about this scent, and I can't get enough. Even after wearing it and having days pass, I caught a whiff of it on a sweater I hadn't washed yet, and… OMG, still swoon-worthy. Very glad I have a bottle of this one, and wish I'd bought multiples. This is easily one of my favorites.

In the imp: I get sweet violet and some lilac, but the mint freshens and opens it up, making it crisp and chilly. I don't so much smell the mint per se as I smell what it does to the other components. On, wet: Lots of ylang ylang and violet… also the moss and especially the musk (smells lightly sweaty and sexy, in a genteel, lady-like sort of way). On the one hand, it's a somewhat sweet, Victorian floral (not biddy-ish at all, though—rather young and innocent) but the mint and moss add something cool, unusual and electric to it, while the musk gives a very sensual undertone. On, dry: Violet has soared to the top here: sweet, just a tiny bit powdery, but still chilled by the mint and darkened by the musk, which keeps it from being either too sweet or too cold. The sandalwood grounds everything very nicely. It reminds me of violet pastilles, but much subtler—less sugary, more complex and quite sophisticated. Later: Sandalwood, violet and musk, in that order. Not much else has changed—it's just blended, mellower, more sensual and spicy. This is a particularly gorgeous stage, though—one of those where you'd walk around just sniffing yourself all the time, if it were socially acceptable. Overall: It's a lovely, profoundly purple blend—very pretty and feminine and sensual—and it's ultra long-lasting, too. It won't appeal to you if you don't care for violets, but on the other hand, it might be a good choice for those who sometimes find sandalwood too dry. It feels like a prim, innocent Victorian maiden who's nonetheless wearing a very racy corset under her frills, and for me, it totally captures the twin Victorian fascinations of virtuous femininity and illicit sex. Love it!

In the imp: Mmm, lovely and really quite masculine to my nose—but gentlemanly, not rugged. The lavender, thyme, moss and bergamot are strongest at first sniff—a bit sharp and citrus-herbal, not unlike Wilde's wit. On, wet: Lavender, lavender lavender, with the clean, green thyme and citrusy bergamot. This isn't as sweet as I'd have expected, although it does somehow work for the inspiration, and as much as this strikes me as a masculine scent, it does smell good on my skin. I'm not getting much from the jasmine or tonka, though I'm sure they're there beneath. On, dry: Ooh, okay, there's the jasmine peeking out, with some nice and earthy patchouli. That's rounding it out. Still, this is primarily fresh to my nose, between the lavender and moss and bergamot. This is really nice, polished and sophisticated. Later: The early sharpness is ultimately softened by the jasmine and patchouli, and on me, the tonka comes out to play hours after the initial application, adding a bit of creamy sweetness. Overall: This one is long-lived and has good throw—a little goes a long way—and it would smell dead sexy on a man. I love the smell of it, but it may be just a bit too gentlemanly for me, even though I usually scoff at scents being described as too masculine. (I think it's the herbal quality that puts it over the top for me.) I know somebody who will put this one to very good use, though.

The Land of Plenty, also called Luilekkerland – the Lazy, Luscious Land: milk and honey, sweet cakes and wine. In the imp: Sweeeeeeeet! Out of the bottle, it has a VERY strong smell of ultra-buttery, sweet cake. Holy wow, Paula Deen would love this, because it cooks with even more butter than she does. On, wet: Less butter, but the generally sugar-sweet aroma has morphed into something that's distinctly honey. The wine is there, but almost an afterthought. On, dry: A touch more wine, but other than that, little change. There are these crispy North African pastries that are fried in oil and then saturated in a honey-lemon syrup, and that's exactly what this smells like to me: super sweetness with a touch of tang. Later: The honey note is deeper and richer now, more like brown sugar or crème brulee—very delicious. The wine never makes itself a big presence for me—its acid is keeping the sweetness in check, but it's definitely the supporting player here. Overall: Extremely foody, very well done. I'll be keeping my imp for sure, but I'm not sure if this is a big bottle scent for me—nice as it is, and as much as I like food scents, I don't know if I really want to smell like a plate of baklava all the time. ;-)