MamaMoth

i expected this to be somewhat reminiscent of released eat me, but it really wasn't at all. this smelled like a buttery, lightly sweetened almond cake. a little... stale? so maybe it had been left on the counter overnight. the almond is pretty heavy and almost savory. no fruit that my nose could detect. nothing to lighten it up or give it any lift, which it desperately needed. a solid miss for me. i'm very glad that the eat me we know and love made it into the gc.

doubt ye not that there's rose in that loukhoum, became i amp it to the high heavens, and i emphatically Do Not Like It. it's a shame, because this seemed like the kind of thick, sweet, chewy patchouli blend that i could really sink my teeth into.

little scared of this one, but curiosity got the best of me, and i tend to have good luck with dairy notes. in the bottle... well, i'm still scared. fakey butter and very sharply tangy cream/milk. but i soldier onward because i am very brave. on the skin it settles down almost instantly into a smooth, buttery, creamy skin scent with just the lightest twang to give it some lift. i can't differentiate the buttermilk from the goats milk. the butter doesn't smell fakey at all anymore. it's sweet and soft and creamy pale yellow. it's a little simplistic, so i don't know if i'd wear it alone. but i think it'll make a fantastic layering note. really glad i tried this!

a lovely resiny type amber, suffused with a bright-edged sweetness. reminds me a little of silkybat, but with amber instead of patchouli. stays very close to the skin for me, very little throw.

so very juicy in the vial. literally BURSTS forth when i uncap it. i can't untangle the chianti and the red musk, there's just a sweet, tart, slightly musky, red fruitiness backed by a sour pithy citrus. on the skin, citrus pushes to the front for a brief joyous moment. then the red musk holds sway and all fruitiness fades to a whisper. what i end up with here is mostly a sweet and light red musk with a little bit of fruitiness in it's character. not a heavy and seductive red musk, but flirty and youthful. a gum-popping lolita. good throw. wear time is short for me, but this type of scent doesn't generally hang around long with my chemistry, so not unexpected.

i adored the cubeb in crib girls, and i've been exploring chocolate scents lately, so i knew i had to try this. this comes on all hot cocoa powder with marshmallows. super chocolatey and sweet, but dry rather than a milk chocolate. it's creamy like milk powder, not actual milk or cream notes. the cubeb is lurking in the background, zingy and bright. it's lemonish and tart, not peppery but kind of zesty. as it dries down, that cubeb does pop and i'm glad, but i still want more. MOAR CUBEB PLS. it's a really good combo though, the notes holding each other in check. but i can't help but think this might have been cool with like, a bittersweet cacao instead of such a rich foodie chocolate.

i tried this mainly to see what that salt note was all about, since the other notes seemed unobjectionable and easily identified. i suspected it would read as aquatic to me, and i was right. i'm not generally an aquatics fan, so i can't tell you what flavor is going on here. but i'm not hating it, surprisingly. the honey is light, delicate, and sweet. a bit musky. the lemon peel is pithy and a bit bitter, and i'm digging it muchly. the brighter lemony top note fades from my skin pretty quickly (like it do), but something of the slightly bitter pith is left behind. eventually it is just lightly musky/sweet, slightly bitter lemon-breath with a touch of salt. it smells clean and fresh without being soapy or bracing, and i'm thinking it might be a nice one for a hot sticky summer day. but listen here. i put this on, then got a little flustered making dinner in a steamy kitchen. and i started getting this sense of... idk, raunchiness? not in a stinky way, but very much in a bodily, working-up-a-light sweat in a wink/wink kinda way? like maybe there was some lemony massage oil involved at some point too?? i can't even explain it. something about that salty sweet musky bitter lemon just triggered something in my brain. all that aside, i still like it more than i thought i would. i will probably crave this at odd times, because it's like nothing i've ever smelled before. but i don't think i'll wear it around my dad.

when i dug into this fresh from the mail, (like the greedy guts i am) the champaca was very front and center to me. not the floral tone i was scared of, but reading to me as a high quality, crumbly masala incense stick. (maybe pure incense's golden champa, which is one of my favorites.) after a bit of time to settle, the champaca is much more blended, but to me it is still incensy in character. the vanilla is dryish and soft, and i can't seem to shake the adjective "papery", so that's what you get. i catch whiffs of the coconut husk a bit early on, but on the whole i think it's just bolstering that dry incensy paperishness. the "white" cognac and tobacco are less robust versions of the usual suspects, just fleshing out the body of this blend, creating that lace base but not really asserting themselves to me. the sugar is a delicate white cobweb draped over the whole... not lemony or caramely or crystalline or foody, just soft, white, and sweet. the whole blend is so soft soft soft, nary a sharp edge to be seen. tl/dr: spun vanilla sugar and soft incense lace. haunting, gently sweet, a little wistful, and feminine. just lovely.

me, a known buffoon, sniffing a perfume that is both named after and inspired by a flower: "wtf?? this smells like a flower??!" to my credit, those notes suggested it might go a different direction, and i thought it might surprise me like citrine did. but nope, it's exactly what it says on the tin. a bright golden flower encapsulated in a vial, petals to stem. it's actually pretty marvelous, if that's your thing.

i tend to enjoy cottony notes more when they're wafting from the back end of a perfume, just lending their clothy-ness to the heavy hitters out front. in this blend they're front and center, assaulting my nose with sharp stabbity floral/dryer sheet knives. every so often i get a breath of soft vanilla cotton, then it's clobbered again by that screeching sharpness. after an hour or so that feels like an eternity, that good cottony smell starts to shyly emerge. it's a well-worn sheet, washed and rewashed until it's almost velvety, line-dried under the baking sun, in a field of flowers. it's nice. but not nice enough to make up for the beginning, and i lack the fortitude to withstand the journey.

opens with a tangy cream and patch. dries into a thick, rich, buttery vanilla cream and chewy patch. ultra sweet and indulgent. i adore this, though it may not go into heavy rotation until the fall/winter months eta that this has become a staple for me at bedtime. it's just the snuggliest patchouli ever.

zoe opens with a bang of very smoky, gritty patchouli. it is a honeyed patch, but the honey is not giving it a ton of sweetness and it's not especially honey-forward. at this stage it is very reminiscent of feed me and fill me with pleasure, but they diverge in the drydown. i wasn't sure what "caramelized" patchouli would entail, but you could have called it "smoked patchouli" and i would have never batted an eye. i might have guessed this had a drop of vetiver, the kind that sometimes has a bitter smokiness to it. i'm detecting nothing i would pinpoint as a cream note, but i suspect it's doing some behind-the-scenes work, keeping that smokey element more rounded, less acrid than it threatens to be in the opening. it gentles a good bit as it dries. the smokiness becomes soft, and loses that almost-acrid tone that was hovering around the edges. more incense smoke than campfire smoke now. the honey fades into the background, lending a little of its sweetness, but none of its character. the whole blend becomes much creamier and softer, but i still never pinpointed a discerible cream note. to me, it remains predominantly a smoked patchouli. all in all, not what i was expecting! the notes suggested a sweet foodie-ish patch, and there was a whimsy to the artwork that reinforced that for me. but this blend feels darker and a touch somber. i love patch in almost all its incarnations, so this definitely has a home in my collection. and while i like this very much, i'm not sure if it'll be in heavy rotation, as i'm usually looking for a bit more sweetness.

i've been trying to pinpoint the "milk" part of snake milk. sweetened condensed milk is very close, but it's more caramelly. not your standard scorched-sugar caramel, though. it's so very creamy. finally today it hit me: dulce de leche! specifically the kind my mom used to make by cooking down a can of sweetened condensed milk in the pressure cooker. then she'd mix that heavenly brown goop with powdered suger to make the most decadent, rich icing you could possibly imagine. that's it, straight up. dulce de leche and snake oil. this puppy is SWEET. like sweetsweetsweetsweet. the sweetness cannot be overstated here. when you first put it on, you can feel it in the back of your throat it's so rich. but after a few minutes it dies down a little, and that snake oil musky resiny spiciness starts rising up through it... just. unf. it defies contemplation, what is going to happen inside this bottle over the next few years. assuming i can keep my greedy paws out of it enough to have some left to actually age.

in the imp i thought it smelled like a richer and more complex dana o'shee, but on the skin it's so much more than that. but it's pretty funny, because i compared dana to my keto "fauxtmeal", and nightingale is most definitely my pre-keto oatmeal. slow-cooked steel-cut oats drenched in butter, brown sugar, and evaporated milk. dipped up with butter-slathered fried bread. pure sweet carby indulgence. i never put cardamom in my oatmeal, but apparently i should have, because DAYUM. i actually think just smelling this caused me to break my ketosis.

i expected something brighter and more sparkling and citrusy. and there is a top layer of that, but it's deeply rooted to a warm, glowing, resinous heart. the citrus does last much longer than it usually does for me, and as it fades away it leaves the spirit of its zestiness behind to keep things fresh. that heart of resin start to bloom over time, sweet and a touch powdery (in an incensey way), with a little bit of herbal character and just a wee suggestion of soft muskiness. i can't really tease apart the notes very much... it's of a whole, complex and very beautiful.

this could be the vanilla of my dreams. the perfect vanilla bean: rich and rotund. fluffed up by musky, soft, pillowy marshmallow. (marshmallow sometimes smells a little musky to me. just go with it.) grounded by resinous, almost-spicy, sweet benzoin. my eyes are rolling back in my head from sheer bliss. but my nose is also glued to my arm, because the throw is practically nonexistent. and my skin gobbles it up in 10 minutes flat. why, WHY so light handed with this blend? 😢 was contemplating 10,000 backups, but i can't justify it. maybe it'll grow legs in the bottle cellar, and then i'll be mourning my single solitary bottle. honestly, i kinda want to just sit in the corner and cry about it.

i don't get any oils or metals specifically, just a nice clean cologney type smell, very lovely if just a skosh generic, but with a surprising peek of sweet lime popping out. a little sharper at first, but i do get that tweedy feeling as it dries down and softens up. total dad 'fume, but not in a bad way. he's a little dilf-y.

i don't know if i would have pegged this as blueberry specifically... goes on all sweet fruit-ish candy and something aquatic. i don't generally do aquatics, so i can't nail it down any more than that, and it mostly goes away except for a vague brininess that does rein in the goopy sweetness. it goes through a stage where it reminds me vaguely of the sugar plum note from the recent yules series. ends up... blue razz airheads? sometimes these seemingly simplistic ones can surprise you, but there're no surprises here. it's fun and cute. i think i know a tween that might love it, so i'll give her my decant.

i'm so jealous of everyone who gets cake out of this. to me this is jammy red fruits and an almost boozy buttercream. it's fine, i'll get past my cake envy and really enjoy this eventually, because it smells pretty damn scrumptious.

i am a lifetime member of #teamnojasmine. it's my #1 death note. but smoked patchouli and cardamom sugar sounded too good to pass up, so i figured this might be a good one to give jasmine another chance in, since every other note is pretty much pure win for me. WELP. welcome to topsy turvy land, where i can try out a perfume with jasmine in it and end up LOVING IT. what even is happening here?? but boy, that jasmine comes out the gate swinging. let me tell you, i was doubting every decision i've ever made in my life at that point. but then almost immediately, some kind of miracle happened. the jasmine disappeared. that NEVER happens on me. usually even vigorous scrubbing won't rid my skin of lingering jasmine stench. basically, i'm just going to have to echo starbrow here. this one absolutely has to be skin tested. it goes through several stages: 1. jasmine bomb. ugh. but it's brief! 2. cinnamon bomb. better than jasmine bomb, but not really wowing me yet. and finally... 3. musky sweet vanilla fleshed out by an earthy, full, rich vetiver/patch mesh, with a beautiful soft spiciness. i actually think the jasmine is still hiding up in there, sexing it up and giving the whole blend a heady voluptuousness, but it's not distiguishable to my nose at all. and believe you me, i'm LOOKING for it. this is a total sexpot. it's dark and sultry and languorous. i get the snake oil comparisons. it doesn't smell like snake oil, but it feels like snake oil. am i buying a bottle? oh yeah. what a world!

THIS is the sandalwood i'm always looking for, but so rarely find. i wish i knew what variety it was, but alas i am too poor to buy a variety of sandalwood oils to pinpoint it. it has a sweet, clean, perfumey quality that almost reads as a softly woodsy skin musk to me. just divine. my sandalwood holy grail. that wonderful sandalwood is paired with an equally wonderful vanilla. it's so full-bodied and rich... i want to say almost buttery, but it's not a foody vanilla. it rounds out that perfect sandalwood and they sing in perfect two-note harmony. sweetly perfumey but also warm. i really love this.

ok , the ones with no listed notes drive me a little crazy. i should just sit back and enjoy the experience, but my nose wants to deconstruct it, so i worry at it! my guesses, from most sure to least: amber coconut husk something vanillic but not quite vanilla - benzoin? soft woods, but not cedar. - sandalwood? brown musk vetiver anyway, it's pretty great! soft, sweet, earthy, a little powdery, a little woodsy. right in my wheelhouse.

oh man, that cedar comes out SWINGING. bone-dry and aggressively woodsy. thankfully it softens up pretty quickly as it dries, and gives all the other notes a chance to sing. what i end up with, surprisingly, is a dry-ish vanilla, softly woodsy and balsamic, with just a teensy kiss of sweet sassafras. warm and rugged, check. absolutely wonderful. if i'm nitpicking, i wish for just a DAB more sassafras. but that's just a me thing, and layering with a little bit of sassafras strengthener absolutely does the trick. so good! i feel like an absolute fool for never trying this, when it's just been hanging out there in the gc lo these many years.

i've recently discovered that i REALLY enjoy sarsaparilla, and patchouli is my soulmate. so when i stumbled across this one, i could not rest until i had secured a bottle. but leather and i are not always on good terms, and it tends to dominate, so i am feeling a bit of trepidation.... patchouli and leather, yep. as it dries down, the leather takes over. it's not a bad leather, (sometimes it's a Bad Leather indeed) but i just don't enjoy leather-forward scents for myself, and it skews the blend a little masculine for my own personal tastes. this would probably smell amazing to me, wafting off a man human. the sarsaparilla is a complete no-show. sad badger.

this is just a heartbreakingly beautiful perfume initially out front is a rich and somewhat buttery vanilla. it almost feels like it could skew the blend gourmand at one point early on, but then it entertwines with the blooming amber and they hold each other perfectly in check. the patchouli is a supporting player here: an earthy, woodsy foundation on which to set the stage. it doesn't disappear, i can clearly smell the patchouli, but it never becomes patchouli-forward to me. the golden musk, like it always does for me, overlays it all with a warm, sheer, gossamer perfume-iness. with all these rich and bold elements, this could very easily have become a heavy, overly rich blend, but it has a sheerness and restraint. the throw is good, but light-handed enough to remain tantalizing. it lasts a good long while, and eventually it drifts into becoming a musky, resinous vanilla skin scent. very beautiful. these are all favorite notes for me, and i tend to amp them all, so i was curious to see which would dominate. the answer is: none of them. it's a symphony. it was very hard to put this one into words, and my review seems like a somewhat clinical analysis of a perfume that feels deeply nourishing to me. standing ovation. eta: while it doesn't resemble banshee beat, i think i may prefer it for my vanilla/patch needs. yeah, i said it.