Casablanca

This was nearly Orange Blossom SN on my skin. Just a drip of light watery salt around the edges. Some salt notes go wild on me. This one, though, had a sort of salt that I don't amp like mad, kind of like the recent Luper Sad Love in that way. But no other notes made an appearance.

A highly herbal blend to start, Kommt Mit Zacken started as lots of sage and bay laurel on my skin, backed with an odd animalistic musk and a whiff of tobacco. Mostly the sage and bay laurel. After drydown, a sweet golden amber came out on me in droves. At that point the blend was mainly sweet amber, with little whiffs of herbs. The strange beasty-musk put me off a bit during the early phase, here, but the amber dried phase was lovely.

Oh, this. This was deep jade moss and cypress delishusness. Deep, sink-into-it-like-a-bed green moss and green cypress boughs. I'd like to chill some evening with just this blend and some night swamp sounds playing on YouTube. Ambience without the hematophagic distraction of mosquitoes. The other notes blended to add depth and woodiness -- a forest floorness -- but I couldn't make any other note out individually. I'm out of moss-heavy fragrances now. I might replenish that dry well with a bottle of this one.

This was a very Yule-into-spring scent. Sweetly minty -- almost sugary -- snow primarily, with gleams of amber and green conifers.

I got a chance to try my friend's decants of this line today, and they were so good. This blend smelled like the Boss of Druids. A Druid on (Natural, Plant-Based) Steroids. It was dry, crushed grasses and dry woods for me primarily -- especially what I suspect was the ash -- and then strengthening hazelnuts after drydown. The whole blend struck me as quite dry, natural, and rustic. I love forest blends, and I found this unique among those I've tried.

I got a chance to try my friend's decants of this line today, and they were so good. Die Flamme was one of the standouts for me; I loved its smoky-warm nuttiness on my skin, especially the nutty acorns. The nuts were the most potent aspect on my skin, but wreathed in a cozy smoke. This was not the aggressive black, slightly acrid smoke of Midnight Bonfire for me, but rather somewhere between intimate hearth smoke and little backyard bonfire smoke. Under the nuts and smoke, I got frankincense and woodsiness. This was all quite in my wheelhouse. I agree, though, with Lucchesa that it was a little too close to my beloved Chestnuts and Hearth Smoke bottle to warrant a separate bottle. But I want to recommend a try.

This year's Milk Moon is a soft but wholly nourishing blend, a version of a promised land. In the bottle, the blend is mostly a lightly honeyed milk to me, with hints of Mediterranean fruit. Fresh on my skin, the figs and dates come out, rich with cream, a bit warmed with honey, full and round with hot-summer fruitiness. Olive and cedar trees rustle in the breeze around the edges, woodsy and a little airy. This smells like abundance. My skin seems hungry for abundance, because it eats the scent up quickly. Hopefully a little age will add longevity to the wear.

Figgy, other-fruity red musk. Heavy and sweet. Wood adds some solidity in drydown. I could see red musk lovers liking this one. I thought this had a little oudh funk in it when I first sniffed the wand. There is something a bit animalic here, but it's not jumping out.

The listed notes look lovely, but then: Poudh sneak attack for critical damage.

This one is a good bit of fun at first. The star anise immediately amps into Supreme Ruler on my skin; but in the first moment, at least, I can still smell the green tea. This seems to be the pretty green tea note from Cooling Breeze. And then the tea is mostly gone, leaving scarcely a green whisp. The oakmoss is a faint woody hint. The sweet, black licorice-like anise simply stomps everything else out.

Ponderous white gardenia, a nearly equal amount of champaca, and a backdrop of red sandalwood. The champaca and sandalwood lend their light textural, almost spicy qualities to the gardenia. This is still a pretty heady blend on me, though.

This is Red Musk dressing up in a gown of shimmering pink shantung and mermaid pearls. It's kind of Red Musk in Abalone Vulva cosplay. You know it's not the real Vulva, but it's a good bit of fun. The Lab's red musk usually turns sour and bad on me after a while. I get a little of that here, but this iridescent mermaid note -- and the amber that intensifies after drydown -- do a very pretty job of hiding it.

Like some others, I get something off in this. Funky. I catch a bit of it on the wand on the decant, but its funk amplifies into dominance on my skin. When I try to parse around that... I get fuzzy wood and great poofs of orris powder. The funk settles down after a bit, but even without it, the fuzziness and powder here aren't an ideal match for me.

Lovely ambient Mediterranean blend. This is an airy olive flower and a warm, woody fig, with added fullness and a little sweetness from the amber. I don't get overt amber, but find an abundance of olive blooms and wood-toned figs. Fragment 38 is a Mediterranean summer blend. It's gentle and relaxed -- even deliciously lazy. If I were planning a trip to the Med Sea, I'd want to bring a blend like this. I think this is my favorite from my friend's Luper decants.

My skin mostly turns this into a salt bonanza. I do catch a hint of pleasantly smoky, dry wood cast up somewhere on this salt-dominant shore, some surviving and sun-dried remnant of a ship wrecked years ago. It seems like a mingling of the pale patchouli with driftwood. But, mostly: salt bonanza.

Lavender cola, a little perfumey and chilly at first, but then increasing in cola-ness and fizziness as it dries and the labdanum comes forth. Touches of vanilla and sandalwood after drying.

And I continue to amp the hell out of most salt notes. Two Westerners is all crusty salt on me, like waves upon waves of sea salt without a drop of the ocean's water. I can find a hint of fresh (and welcome) sea moss, but everything else is lost and drowned in this unwatered salt sea.

Ascetic is a soft, serene incense blend. Calming, and also quite understated. This could be a meditation chamber scent, and it would do so as a gentle ambiance that seems to rise off the room's natural materials rather than as a perfume additive. This is mainly aloe on my skin, with sandalwood, frankincense, and a little dry ti leaf blending in. Upon drying, it softens further, and leans sweeter and more woody, but is otherwise similar.

I swapped decants with a friend to try, and this was one of them. As we tested the swapped stuff outdoors yesterday, I didn't get anything from Wan Wan but fuzzy, powdery white musk. But indoors today, I get most of the listed notes, and it's more interesting. Sweet vanilla myrrh, carnation, and hay, alongside fuzzy white musk. Hints of clove spice and high-pitched jonquil. Once this dries, though, it goes back to being mostly fuzzy, powdery white musk. My friend also reported that she liked it, but it went too powdery for her.

On me, freshly applied, this is a slightly drunk and deeply maudlin apricot. This apricot has sunken down to sit on the curb, hunched over a bottle of Spanish brandy, staring simultaneously at black asphalt and at some faraway place of distant memory. This is a warm, sweet, dark apricot and touches of booze and dark musk. Dried, I get a little impression of the wood and vanilla. The vanilla seems like a dark one, but that could be the darkness suffusing the blend. It's really all a sweet shadow overhanging our sad apricot friend. Poor apricot. 🤗

2020 This is a red rose-lover's blend. I get a deep and fresh red rose with some light citrus-orange tone over a gentle, woody oudh. It's regal and elegant, and just a bit bright on me from this citrus hint, rather than showy. The bit of orange-like citrus burns off quickly, leaving just the velvet-pillow depths of red rose, with a little supporting oudh.

Lavender Epsom salts. This is lavender Epsom salts for the bath that soothes toes exhausted from wearing high heels all day. This is a completely salt-encrusted sharp lavender. If I hunt around, I do find rain. It's kind of a cool, dank rain to me, which is not bad. I read it as rather chemical, though. Later on, this turns to salty lavender dryer sheet on my skin.

Black tea, lavender buds, Italian bergamot, and Siamese benzoin. Bagatelles opens on me as equally an herbal lavender and a black tea. There's something borderline medicinal or astringent here, without being quite either. It brings to mind a Victorian doctor with a carpet bag carrying all-for-what-ails-you. The bergamot lifts the blend somewhat, but supportively, rather than as a strong force. I never smell benzoin significantly. This is charming and pleasant, with an old-fashioned mood. ETA: This reminds me a lot of Tyrannophobia. I think it's the same black tea.

I had initially passed on a decant of this because of the tobacco, but also caved because of rice milk love and reviews. Thankfully, the rice milk is the star and the tobacco is soft and subtle for me. This has a bit of a perfumey-musky thing that I didn't expect. I'm glad that it's gentle, nothing like the potent milk-musk combo of Harlequin Milk, but it's just enough that I might put them next to each other in the box. A little golden frankincense peers out eventually. It's scarcely there, though.

I don't usually atmo. But when I saw this notes list, I knew I had to sample it, at least. (When you see a blend that gives that "made for you" feeling.) I liked the sample so much, I did bottle it. I get mainly green bamboo, green fig, and black silk from it, with a little vanilla husk (which does smell dry and husk-like) and patchouli. The oak is a gentle presence of woody warmth. The "black silk" has an almost perfume quality, but without any of musk's intrusive tendencies. It does also remind me of a light fabric. It's not like the wool or cotton notes; it's more sophisticated. This is very Shunga.