Casablanca

I used to have a bottle of old Sugar Skull, and I liked it, but I ended up using most of it in making maple pumpkin stout soap. That came out delicious. Trying this version of the blend, I realized how much my old bottle was dulled by its age. I think it was from 2009? This was much more freshly brown-sugary and red-fruity! Its maple quality goes wonderfully with the autumn spice here. This one hadn't been on my radar, but I loved it. Probable bottle.

At a party a couple years ago, I learned that an ex I hadn't seen in 12 or 13 years had passed away a few years before from lung cancer. I was wearing the wonderful Antikythera Mechanism HG and, especially with its tobacco note, I began to associate it with that news. I had to resell the bottle. I decided to give this a try. For a good while, it's wonderful: autumn-spiced oak, teak, and sultry vanilla. Some of my favorite things. It needed a minute to warm up on the skin, but then I was huffing it a lot. A bit later, the tobacco came out strong, and the old association came back. So I'll pass, but I know others will love this. 😍

I got lots of cologne-like dead leaves, and no spice. It's just had a day to settle. Perhaps more of that will do the trick.

Dry cacao with a touch of dead leaves. This was mostly a dry, unsweetened cacao on me. I didn't find sandalwood, but it might appear with more settling.

I loved The Shadowed Veil, though it didn't live long on my skin. Blackened pumpkin (like a dark, wicked pumpkin that was a bit chocolate-like on my friend), a pleasantly woody oud, patchouli, and a whiff of soft leather. I never noticed pomegranate. I can really see the secret Witch in the Woods analogy for this one.

Green! Each of the Fall of the Leaf blends is their color dialed to 11. My first impression is actually absinthe. My friend and I both seem to smell anise in this, along with basil and other green herbs, grass, and something fresh and cool like eucalyptus.

Yellow! Each of the Fall of the Leaf blends is their color dialed to 11. Super lemon. This turned to lemon Pledge on my friend, but I can kind of hang with it. Lemon, lemon verbena, neroli, and something yellow and pulpy that might be yellow mandarin, though it makes me think of mango. I think I'm getting a little broom flower, and I'm not drawn to that note, but I'm glad I got to sample this.

Red musk is an absolute unit of Hell on my skin, so I didn't put this on. But on the wand, it was as boldly red as reviews have noted. Each of the Fall of the Leaf blends is their color dialed to 11. I got a potent spicy red musk, red oud, and clove, with a little patch and pimento.

Orange! Each of the Fall of the Leaf blends is their color dialed to 11. I get lots of mandarin, ginger, and yam, hints of apricot and chrysanthemum. Unfortunately, the yam smells like mushy-warm, cooked yam and it's making me gag, as yams do. I cannot yam.

Choco-lots! Strong milk chocolate (not the dry cacao sort) over Snake Oil. A close cousin of Boomslang. Like, way too close to marry.

Yep, cinnamon-candy red hots over Snake Oil. I tested my friend's decant, and this was exactly red hots on both of us -- candy and all.

A lovely, distinctive blend. This cedar doesn't smell as red and rustic to me as it often does; instead, it feels somehow more dry and refined. And smoked! This doesn't evoke the cozy cedarwood cabin I usually get from cedar scents, but perhaps more of a sophisticated room with exposed wood and a fireplace, where smoke has suffused the furnishings a little at a time for years and lingers everywhere. The vanilla adds to the atmosphere, but isn't a strong forward note for me.

This warm mulled wine is delishus! I've been craving it, and Hunter Moon answers the call. Woohoo! This is a gentle and quality red wine scent -- not sharp, acidic, or grapey. The spice plays lightly in it. I get a chill autumn night note as just a hint wafting over, and beneath it all, a dried leafy, grounding influence of the woods. This is a lovely one.

Like Aviatrix, I pick up some peach in this -- specifically white peach, such as in Lamia. Hidden ingredients are common and perhaps that's a thing here. I also get something bubblegummy, like Lizzie mentioned. Otherwise, though, this is a potent, jammy black currant blend. On my skin, there's loads of plump dark berries, the white peach-bubblegum, and a dry, grainy sandalwood. Hints of vanilla and amber. I wish this would not do the white peach-bubblegum thing on me. I'll keep looking for the right black currant blend.

Théodore Rousseau A wintry tangle of oak and forest mosses against a deepening amber backdrop. The amber in Forest in Winter is actually no mere backdrop; even in the bottle, it's the most potent note to me, and it's beautiful. Green, living moss is the next strongest note. I sniff this and my mind goes a-swirl with gold and green. This doesn't change on my skin from the bottle. It just opens out into a warm, deep amber-bathed mossy forest. This amber gives the woods an impression of glowing. (ETA: Actually, on re-applying this, I think I'm picking up champaca, too.) The blend is a little sweet, and quite smooth. As it dries, the oak comes out, smelling like a wise, old tree still in verdant health. There's a touch of cool frost so faint it's barely there, mostly adding a lighter tint to the greenery. The rest of the blend smells like mature and lazy summer. Perfect for me.

Maple leaves, ti leaf, pine needles, cedar, and soft mosses. Red maple! This skin test takes me right back to October Dusk bath oil, but without the sweet honey. There is still a sweetness in this, like a maple-syrup sweetness, but it's quieter. Other trees are just perceptible through the maples, and there's a hint of smoke in this forest air, but a sort of maple wood-syrup-russet leaf smell dominates. While I can pick out subdued mosses, like mosses in the shadows of trees, this mostly feels like warm red woody-sweet leaves. This really puts autumn in my mind. It's beautiful, so I might wear this one day, and then cellar it until fall!

This was almost entirely a white floral on me. I thought of white lilies. Then it turned to white lily soap.

A well-blended copal-champaca-amber-frankincense, with an itty-bitty lemon whiff now and then. I didn't expect this to take me back to my earliest gaming days, but it did.

Clean cotton that becomes a little powdery on my skin after a bit of wear. A little wisp of jasmine tea floats about, but mostly this is clean cotton for me.

Sweet coconut... bananas? I get sweet coconut milk, creamy bananas, and a little lemongrass on my skin. I like this, but it makes me think "chewy tropical sunblock."

At peace with recklessness and abandon, the serenity of accepting the embrace of disorder and obliquity: pink pepper and honey. This reminds me of the honey from Fortuna Dubia, with pink pepper instead of Dubia's herbs. The honey is stronger on me than the pepper. At first I also got a little something that felt sugared, like a powdered sugar, but my skin ate it. This blend lives under two hours on my skin.

The world over which he rules: bitter almond and gold oudh. Freshly applied, The Orb gives me a potent blend of some orange (I want to say sweet mandarin), an only slightly bitter almond, and a mellow oudh. Sometimes I think I get a hint of blood orange or red mandarin in this citrus, but for all that, the citrus feels smooth rather than sharp. It softens the blend in a watercolor of gold and orange. The Orb reminds me of Scepter of the Empress, with that one's mandarin and amber oudh, but without the extra lift from its bergamot. I also don't get the animalic tone from the Orb's oudh that I did from the oudh in the Scepter. This feels like a grounding and supportive background oudh. Could this be more of the blend I wanted from the Scepter? This also reminds me a bit of Like the Flashing of Light, a blend that developed beautifully over the months. When I realized how nicely it had aged, I wore it once or twice a week until it was gone. This one has some of its mood. I might need to indulge in a bottle of this.

[No additional description provided.] Mellow honey and minty-green, licorice-sweet absinthe. This one smells mostly like minty-green honey for the first bit of time on my skin. The minty vibe soon settles and I get a honeyed, sweet green licorice blend. Honey and Absinthe makes me think of a gourmet jelly bean that's black with green spots. Or maybe one that's green with black spots. If you see such a jelly bean, and you're playing Bean Boozled, you should just walk away. As a perfume, though, it's much less hazardous and, for some, will even be nice to wear. 🙂

The intuitiveness, compassion, sensuality, and creativity that nourishes and sustains Order: lavender buds and gentle bells of Lily of the Valley floating on a calm river of lychee, ylang ylang, and white magnolia. First on, The Stream is a dewy lavender lychee. Especially the lychee. I pick out the lily of the valley after a bit, but only with help from the notes list. Mostly, this is an aquatic-leaning lavender lychee in its early phase. During drydown, I get a little more lily of the valley and the first of the magnolia, but they are really paying their respects to Emperor Lychee. Once The Stream has fully dried, that up-and-coming courtly magnolia comes to her own, partnering with the lychee for a time, and then mostly taking over. Ylang ylang blends closely with her and adds to her sultry aspect. The lychee lingers for a time. The blend becomes a fresh and quirky white floral. Gradually the lychee and dewiness fade and leave a white floral. The lavender-lychee combination reminds me of the fresh quirkiness of lavender and grapefruit together, like in Sugar Phoenix. I don't see lychee growing on me as much as that combination did, but I'll enjoy the decant.

Goats' milk, honey, and musk. Now and then I pick up a suggestion of red currant, similar to the way it plays a small role in Alisz. It only came out in that blend for me over time, so I might find more of it in Harlequin Milk later. I have a feeling I'll find some orange later. But mostly this is goats' milk, honey, and musk, and I like it a lot.