Invidiana

Wow. This is chocolate like holy shit chocolate, and for me that's a very good thing. It's a buttery boozy chocolate in the bottle, and thankfully it stays that way once it dries down on my skin. It's in the same vein with Candy Butcher, though they're definitely not the same; that one is more of a vanilla-creamy chocolate while this is more of a buttery/butterscotchy/boozy chocolate. It's insanely rich and delicious and smells like something that would up my cholesterol 50 points in half a second.

In the vial, this smelled amazing, like blood-red wine and fall leaves. Within a couple seconds of hitting my skin, however...powdermania. As time went by it just became more and more powdery until everything else except the overwhelming smell of my grandma's (may she rest in peace) Coty powder, and I had to eventually scrub it off, and with a towel for maximum scrubbage. I had the same thing happen with Ivanushka; must be the type of musk used, because most musks are usually gorgeous on me but whatever this one is I need to avoid it like the plague.

This is a very smoky cinnamon straight out of the bottle, but once it dries down...holy of holies. It's an absolutely gorgeous spiced vanilla musk on me, creamy with just the right hints of fire and darkness, possibly some patchouli in the background...I don't know if I'd attract any manbait with this as I'd be too busy sniffing myself and looking like an idiot.

If Tolkien's elves had a smell, this would be it. It's a gauzy, ethereal floral, but by no means namby-pamby. The more it dries down, the more I'm drawn to it because it just has this eerie and mysterious quality I can't get enough of and just need t keep smelling one more time to try to place. It's so well-blended that I can't pick out any particular note, though there must be white musk and possibly moonflower, but it makes me think of elvensong and the lost city of Gondolin and the mists of the Gray Havens (excuse the fantasy nerd coming through). Hauntingly beautiful.

Now before I commit potential blasphemy here, I just want to say that the analogy I'm about to draw probably has everything to do with my skin chemistry, but.... This dries down to a chocolate-covered and slightly spicier Underpants on me. No lie. Thankfully I get no florals at all, not a bit. What I do get it a very rich and postively ambrosial cake-battery vanilla swathed in chocolate, and as it dries down further the additional warmth of the sandalwood, amber and nutmeg. Though I can't smell it distinctly I think the rooibos tea (which I love drinking--ever try vanilla rooibos?) is also adding to the autumnal warmth. The florals, most thankfully of all the Geranium Gorgon of Doom, have lost the battle and left the building, and I'm left with chocolate-covered Underpants. Let me just say my skin was really fighting for me this time.

In the bottle and wet this is all strawberry cough syrup--you need to wait for the drydown to really appreciate it. Once it does dry down (give it about 2-3 minutes), it's bona fide strawberries and cream--seriously, I can smell the ripe, fresh fruit and cream with just enough tang to the berries to keep them from venturing into the cloying cough-syrup territory of the wet stage. There's also something sexy and floral about this in the background, which must be the lotus and ylang ylang. I really don't get any green tea or sage from it, which is more than fine with me because I'm not a green fan.

Wow. This is basically an olfactory orgasm of the candy store variety, and not the all-sugar kind of candy store but those old-fashioned ones that sell stuff like ribbon candy and giant swirly lollipops side-by-side with cookies and fudge. It's basically an amalgamation of buttercream, vanilla-flavored sugar candy (no fruity candy here), yellow cake, cotton candy and powdered sugar with an undertone of--dare I say it?--cocoa powder. At least what I get as cocoa powder really adds a unique and delicious dimension to this, and only keeps blooming as it continues to dry down. If you're a hardcore foodie like I am and your skin chemistry generally behaves with buttery notes, vanilla and cocoa, you need this stuff. I'm wondering what this was a prototype for...was it the step before what turned into the Confectionary proto? Either way, I'm really glad Beth ended up with enough to bottle up.

This is one which you need to dab sparingly and wait for the drydown, because I'll confess that in the bottle is vile. In the bottle it's all heavy smoke and vetiver with an orchid background. However, there's another side to this story, and that shows itself after the drydown. Again, this is very strong so it's one to dab on very lightly at first and gradually build if you need more. However, from all that heavy smoky vetiver it turns into a downright sensual dark orchid with a woody, smoky and resinous background. There has to be some form of dark resin in here, maybe one, maybe a couple (I'm guessing more than one becuase this is a complex scent ot my nose), but whatever they are the proportion is enough that my skin (which amps sweeter notes) amps them right through the smoke and vetiver and also pushes the dark and sweet orchid through as well. It turns out to be a gorgeously evil floral, and besides the fac that it is dark the orchid still retains a tropical feel, which makes me think of the trouble in paradise going on in F. Scott Fitzgerald's Tender is the Night. In fact I would have probably named it after that book myself because it really is very evocative of the era--speakeasies, rouged lips, film noir and a sordid underworld. Truly one of a kind.

This is wow, just...wow. It was everything I'd been hoping De Sade, which turned out to be butch manly leather on me, would be (then again I held out hope because I love De Sade's twisted writings). Black Rider is actually very evocative of the decadence of the work of De Sade (and similar French Victorian writers who explored decadence as a theme, such as Baudelaire, Huysmans, Mallarmé...anyway I'll axe the book nerd talk for now) without being glaringly manly. The leather behaves and allows itself to be tempered by the dark, slightly sweet oppoponax and amber, shrouded in just a hint of tobacco smoke which isn't at all overwhelming but adds the perfect mysterious touch. It's just darkly and gorgeously sensual, and definitely my black leather scent.

Wet, this is a flood of roses and nothing else; you need to wait for the drydown to truly appreciate the depth and sensuality it has. After a couple of minutes some really gorgeous elements emerge; there must be tonka in here because I can sense that rich, warm and almost nutty quality, and I'm guessing some dark resins as well because as it keeps drying down something sticky and sweet but also dark, and definitely not sugar, emerges as well (my skin tends to amp sweeter notes), along with something earthy and spicy that must be clove, which actually behaves on me this time around and doesn't take over everything else. Possibly a hint of some sort of musk in here too. This is not your innocent blushing pink rose, this is a velvety, voluptous crimson rose doused in sensual resins and oils, like the Cleopatra or Salome of roses. If you're into dark and smutty stuff like I am, I'd say this definitely qualifies as a dark and smutty floral, so give it a try.

This really didn't do much for me. The tangerine and white musk were pleasant enough, nothing astounding, but the cypress just makes it a little sharp for me in the vein of Lines Written on the Euganean Hills. Cypress just tends to come out that way on my skin. I don't get a delicious juicy scent at all, just something light and citrusy and with a slightly sharp minty evergreen, nothing to write home about.

Olive blossom, cardamom pod, amber, morning star lily, bergamot, and a well-aimed snowball. This was another one of the "meh" Shungas for me, a very tea-like floral in the same vein as Unveiled but "colder" with the snow note. I was crossing my fingers for the cardamom and amber to take over at some point, but nothing happened. It just remained pretty uneventful from vial to the drydown, and also very faint on my skin.

I'm editing this post because I tried Unveiled again and...complete change of heart. It's beautiful. At first it seems like a tea-dominant floral but then...the drydown. All of a sudden the warmth of the vanilla, amber and myrrh emerges with an equally warm and soft background of light peach and citrust and gently spiced tea. This has redeemed itself and is going on my bottle list.

This would have been so gorgeous if it wasn't for that blasted lilac. I mean, it's not like lilacs smell so vile in general; I actually enjoy them in the garden around Easter but I'd rather not smell them on me. I can tell the rest of the notes in this are so thick and sensual, but my skin amps the lilac and just makes it smell...wrong. Incongruous. If only there was no lilac in this it would have been a winner for me.

Oh look, who is it but my friend rose geranium again, which my skin so loves to amp. This smelled so promising in the vial, really promising--like a really rich buttercream, so I stupidly held out hope until within a couple seconds the rose geranium burst out and strangled everything else to death, so the end result was all rose geranium swiped with a bit of buttercream. Not something I'd want to eat--or smell.

Murderous alright, as in, my skin murders this. It was so promising in the vial with that rich, sweet and sticky myrrh, and I can still tell how lovely the myrrh is as it dries down but oh the rose geranium. I love how I amp many of my notes of doom to high heaven. On my skin, the blasted rose geranium takes over everything else so this ultimately ends up as slightly myrrh-sweetened rose geranium. Gah.

Skin-piercing alright, how about nose-piercing? My skin+masculine woods=epic fail. Apparently it has a knack for amping not only the vetiver in this, which was to be expected, but the pepper too, so it ended up a peppery vetiver with nary a trace of grapefruit in sight and maybe a hint of patchouli in the background. Blast my chemistry.

Well, finally. After a little too much perseverence in my book, I get a winner among the Shungas, where the listed notes don't only appear as if they'll work well on my skin, they actually do. Despite the anise this doesn't go very licorice on me at all--the anise adds a bit of naughtiness along with the neroli, very fitting for the label art of the girl clearly enjoying, um, what she's doing but still not able to look in that direction. I just get a lovely creamy vanilla with candylike florals; cherry blossom does that on me, and apparently peony does to. I don't really sense any violet leaf, it probably gives a hint of darkness if anything, but when anything remotely green has vanilla and candy florals to compete with on my skin, it gets the message to sit back and behave. Congratulations, Pink Mood, you will be turning into a bottle.

By all indications this was supposed to be magical on me (frankincense! ginger cream!), but then my skin decided to take it for a joyride and turn it to an extremely manly woody gingerroot scent with a touch of equally butch De Sade-esque leather. Note to self: Orris root is second in line to cedar for the rank of Ungodly Wood of Death on my skin. No cream, no resin, nothing, and I have no idea what in high heaven asuhi is but it can't be doing anything good with my chemistry. It basically ends up resembling a spicy men's aftershave, like an amped-up version of the Old Spice that Hod turned into on me.

Remind me again that that most florals+vetiver turn to powder on me. Scratch that, I think allflorals+vetiver turn to powder on me, period. For vetiver to work on me it needs equally dark stuff to support it: resins, spices, smoke, etc. With a second look at the note list I noticed that who else but our friend The High Imperial Concubine Jasmine of Doom is on there, and this must be the type that goes rancid banana on me and amps to the moon. This basically hits my skin like a fruity-floral tea but quickly morphs into a headachingly powdery and cloying jasmine-vetiver concoction with an eerie resemblance to mothballs. Gah.

Wow, proof that when your skin chemistry does strange things sometimes it's for the better! This is all sticky, sweet (but not cloying) wonderful moon tree sap (whatever that is) with a sweet but again not cloying or sneezeworthy at all, floral background. Is there sweet pea in this? Orchid? Lotus? Any fruit blossoms? Those all turn winningly candyish on me so at least one must be in there somewhere. There's a tiny bit of green wet, but I thankfully I don't get any of the green stems once this dries down fully. It doesn't smell like a flower shop at all, just sweet, juicy, almost edible resin. Bottle for sure!

Why is all I'm getting out of this pure lemon verbena? Damned skin chemistry, it really hasn't been liking many of this year's Shungas. Something, and I don't know what, turns the mandarin rind into pure lemon verbena with the magical touch of my skin, and I also amp it to the point of barely being able to smell anything else--maybe a tiny bit of blackberry in the extreme drydown, but that's it. I was hoping to really get mostly blackberry, Indian musk and khus, but my skin revolted.

This was one epic fail after another on me. I have come to the very accurate conclusion that 99.999999998567% of the time, The Great and Highly Revered Imperial Jasmine of Doom will do one of two things on me, depending on the type; either go to straight cat pee or start off as cat pee and quickly morph into rancid banana. Apparently I'm looking at the sad reality that I must amp the stuff too. This jasmine was the rancid banana variety, sickeningly sweet and cloying enough to overpower every other note while still retaining something of a cat pee undertone. I had to scrub it off.

Oolong tea, lilac, sheer musk, crushed ginger, wisteria, delphinium, and lavender. Of all the epic fails on my skin, I would have never guessed this was one of the biggest recipes for disaster from the description but apparently it is. It starts off sharp, quickly sweetens, goes absolutely cloying and reminds of something I can't quite put my finger on until... NAIR. With my chemistry it smells exactly like old-school Nair before all the fancy scents came out to make it halfway tolerable. Lilac is already an iffy note for me, and mixed with everything else it just produced one epic, epic fail.

This was another one I was expecting to be an epic fail but actually turned out so right...it generally smells like rose petals drenched in brown sugar syrup. I think what works the magic on the seemingly scary (to me at least) lychee and rose combo is the cistus, whose deep resinous quality tempers the sweetness of the lychee and gives it that brown-sugary quality. Thankfully the rose isn't sharp at all, just a soft velvety rose interwoven with the sticky sweetness. Definitely bottleworthy.