Casablanca

This is lovely: a warm, tropical mango suffusing green tea. And maybe a little whiff of musk binding things. The mango is a bold, fruity, almost pulpy swirl of red and orange-gold. It's certainly not shy in this blend -- and it tilts the perfume toward full tropical isle. The vague sense of perfumey musk is putting me off a bit, but otherwise, I love this one and its unabashed fruity summer vibes.

Lush red pomegranate goes for a refreshing dip in a pool of freshness? That was my first impression. At first, juniper showed up for me more as an ambient, cool blue-green freshness than a woody coniferous being. But as the scent developed on my skin, more of the tree came out: still cool and fresh, but a little more grounded. I wasn't sure how these two very different notes would work together. For the moment, for me, the answer seems to be: Better than I might have thought... but still, it's an odd couple. Pomegranate & Juniper reminds me of first-year dorm roommates. They didn't choose their cohabitant, and the two have wildly different personalities. They're lucky enough to get along pretty well for a full year; but after that, they naturally drift to new roommates who make easier companions.

A scent of bright fortune through abundant resources: wheat accord, hay absolute, and petitgrain with roasted nuts, toasted vanilla, golden honey, and sweet vetiver. The first impression of Himalia on my skin is of toasted nuts and grain floating in creamy vanilla, like some otherwordly oatmeal. Then I smell the honey and hay mixed in, the former blending into the vanilla, and the latter into the grain. The creamy grain reminds me of Dana O'Shee, but this is, on the whole, more rich. It's been a while since I sampled Dana, and I should do a side-by-side, but this seems a bit like Dana but more complex and rich, and with less overt almond. There's an almost chalky texture in the sniff -- not in a bad way. It makes me think of oatmeal softening and breaking down into smaller and smaller parts, very slowly, in milk. And then, on the end of a sniff, I get an undercurrent of vetiver. There's a goodly amount of sweetness in the rest of the blend, and it's hard to tell where that ends and the sweet part of the vetiver begins, but after a minute or two, the specific tone of it reminds me an awful lot of Death Adder. The Death Adder vetiver in this grows as Himalia dries on me. This is a harvest vetiver blend! Completely dried, Himalia softens considerably, with even its vetiver snake resting its head on its coils and going to sleep. It doesn't vanish, but blends in. The fragrance goes Full Cozy. I like it.

[No additional description provided.] This one is coming out different than the imagined. On the wand, I get golden honey over a hay-and-greenery vibe. I wonder if this greenery impression is from the hay being an absolute. On my skin, the greenery wins. It steps forward as green, a little sour, and a little tart. Somehow it smells like a mix of recently cut and dried grasses or shrub leaves. Yup, this is pretty much greenery and I don't know where the honey and amber went. Ah, there's the honey amber, peeking out in early drydown. The tart greenery settles. Later, this is just a super soft honey amber, with a scarce hay hint. I'm going to chalk most of this up to my skin.

White tea, Mysore sandalwood, orris concrete, rice absolute, hinoki wood, and amber. TIL the junk of a pegasus is glorious. Creamy rice, orris, and amber lead on my skin, with hints of white tea and wood. The creamy rice is really the Empress of this domain. For the other notes, the orris seems to contribute to the creaminess, and does not go powdery on me. I pick up a bit more of the tea on the wand than on my skin in this case; the tea and wood are part of the background. This is so smooth, creamy, and cultured. This could be a sister or cousin to Alabaster Vulva (white amber, sheer vanilla, orris butter, Italian bergamot, narcissus); they're of similar moods and I'd put them in the same family. The rice and wood give Pegasus Junk more of a Shunga feel; it seems that the pegasus is the spirit creature of Heian-era Japanese aristocracy.

2021 Gardenias overlay white and pink roses. Very floral. Oh, there's some violet leaf peering out shyly. It's sort of dark green and not quite bitter, but making me thinking a little life bitterness might come up at any moment. After a while, it takes on a dried, aged quality. Violet and I are kind diametrically opposed in vibe, so if she doesn't like me, I'm kinda okay with it. It's cool... Further in, I realize that I am actually smelling marshmallow. It isn't really blending or fitting in with the others... It acts like the rogue stealthing up on you, separate from the rest of the party who are distracting you. This one's kind of an odd one, and not really speaking to me.

Possibly this needs to settle much longer, or maybe it's just that chemistry will be chemistry, but Triple Crown is coming out like a singed wool sweater on my skin -- both when first tested and retested. It's kind of... singed cardamom, dried greenery, and dusty old wool. It's not very pretty and yeah, I have no idea either. 🤷‍♀️

Cinnamon dentist's office. On my skin, this is nearly a dead ringer for like that cinnamon-flavored tooth-cleaning stuff they sometimes used when I was a kid. You know, that sort of fake and pasty bubble gum smell, but with a little cinnamon? Eep. So, I dunno... Nope.

The Crossed Keys smells like... a room smell? It's really just reading to me as an ambient room smell that's pale, chalky, resinous, and a bit woody. I can see comparisons to stone and concrete, though. Raw marble comes to mind -- marble that's dull and dusty, and not yet shiny for home improvements.

The Benediction is a pale coconut-dusted almond note on me for the first moment or so -- a little like a coconut marzipan. But very shortly it makes a wrong turn on my skin and wanders lost somewhere between expired suntan lotion and playdoh... Sadly, Benediction isn't a blessing for me.

Rustic, sage-laced woodsy woods. Lovely white sage -- a little sweet, or something else is -- nutmeg-spiced cedar, woodsy conifer, and a background impression of dried brown leaves and other tree things on the forest floor that reminds me of the Earth Mother from the Empress Tarot release. Appealing white sage and cedar forest blend.

Freshly applied: Lemony orange flowers with just a little warm blush of rose. Starting to dry: Much the same, but add a whiff of grainy, golden frankincense. Dried: A bit of a shift to more neroli and less lemon, but otherwise similar. This one offers mostly lemon-neroli, but with mild rose and incense notes.

Freshly applied: Soft vanilla bean red and white roses with hints of resin. Starting to dry: Add sandalwood to the above... I can see red sandalwood, though I'm not fully distinguishing its red from the red of roses. Dried: So much red sandalwood! But softly creamy with vanilla and flowered with roses. The Disciples' vanilla bean blends into its white roses; its red sandalwood blends into its red roses. This is a creamy white and red perfume.

This bay leaf is gorgeous against the honey-coated pom. This is a huggable bay -- not how bay smells when dried and dead and papery in a spice jar, but fresher and more inviting. A rich brown fig adds some earthy lux that grows in drydown. Hierophantes has a deep-fruity-red/sweet-fig-brown scent overall. It's a sexy Mediterranean or Eve-in-the-garden scent with the bay for a nice twist. I really like this one.

Loads of mandarin up front --- and I'm also smelling a more reddish blood orange. I can catch a little black currant, like a soft shadow, but it's mostly lost in the radiance of oranges. Settles into a reddish-orange fruit punch? There seems to be a little more going on, but I'm not catching spices or other identifiable notes.

Needle-sharp, clean aldehyde infused scientifically with cedar and blue juniper. This cedar and juniper are beautiful together. After drydown, when the aldehyde fades, I especially love them. Fabulous blend for the concept. Though I don't like aldehyde enough to want to upgrade to a bottle, the cedar and juniper are so lovely, I'm still tempted.

A lovely grey shimmering amber wreathed in smoke. This smells like shimmering, silver-grey vintage lingerie, a little sultry with faint smoke. Lovely.

I'm happy to get to try my friend's decant of this. Freshly on: dampness and sweetly green sugar cane. Hm, not quite the expected. Almost damp woods or soil. There's a faint background soil-and-woodsy-floor impression, but mostly, I get dampness and green sugar cane. In drydown, the forest impression grows -- more brambles and hay and patchouli. The weird dampness is fading, leaving the lovely sugar cane. (I'm always here for sugar cane.) Once dried, the forest gets a little nutty on me, too, but is otherwise much like its drydown self. I think the sugar cane is actually the strongest note (mm). Looking back at other reviews, it appears that Brood X sings pretty differently for different people. He is quite pleasant on me, though I'm not quite feeling obsessed.

Spiced, fuzzy fur among whiffs of grasses, earthiness, and caramel. Cardamom, clove, and nutmeg are all present early on, and among the most potent notes. The whole blend has a toasted quality. I'm getting an earthiness from this that doesn't read as straight-up dirt. I think it's mostly patchouli mingling with fur musk. I admit sometimes I wish furry animal concept didn't always mean fur notes... but also, not really wishing, because it's nice to feel safe from needing bottles of too many things. This is a cozy, spicy, earthy animal blend.

Sometimes, it is just what it sounds like. Freshly applied, I get a leathery, woody vetiver, wreathed in dark smoke. The black pepper peeps out pretty early in the life of the blend. The vetiver has complex notes of its own, but the black pepper is black pepper. The leathery aspect fades. Smoky, woody vetiver spiced with black pepper.

Strong pink roses, their green leaves, and, after a while, a drizzle of golden sap. I need to zoom in on the sap, though, because the pink roses are quite potent on me.

Orange blossom and neroli often turn to orange lollipops on me, and that's definitely in force here. Bank teller orange dum-dums with a lilt of lemon. Sweet, citrus, and candied.

Hints of citrus and grassiness, but mostly a soft golden smoke.

Herbal lavender at first, mostly, but the oakmoss is more forward than I expected for the fresh phase. It is a pale oakmoss, like if you married oakmoss to a little linen and orris root. This smells like a light and lovely sleep blend to start, but the lavender fades from me quickly. It leaves the pale oakmoss, which goes a bit powdery, again reminding of orris root.

Mommy Fortuna offers a light, herbal honey and a dull gleam of metallic gunpowder. Maybe a touch of maple and/or beeswax. There was a Luper with honey, maple, and beeswax that this is reminding me of, just a bit -- Chushu no Meigetsu.