Casablanca

Sweet honey sticks on a background of cinnamon and a lovely sugar-dusted, mellow patchouli. Wet: The honey sticks have a candy-ish tone that makes them honey stick-y, instead of just honey. That part brings this blend well into foodie territory for me. I love every part of this mix that is not the stick part of the honey. Dry: The candy stick vibe has drifted, and this is now simply sweet, cozy, and soft, like a russet, sugary sweater. Great fall scent.

This is quite soft on me; from even a short distance it just smells vaguely musky and a bit powdery. Close to the skin, though, I find lots of grainy sugar over some fig, patchouli, and vanilla cream, and smidges of each other listed note. It's an immediately likable and pretty combination. The Dream has lots of potential, but I think it may need some time to age and fill out more. If it does, it'll be a bottle for me... at least one.

Meditation Buddy reminds me of Flickering Lantern (beeswax, tobacco leaf, a whiff of smoke, purple rose petals) without any of the purple, and with ... I want to call it vanilla swamp. There is a vanilla-tinged, slightly swampy aquatic note. I get a beeswax-incense rose on a background of vanilla swamp-water. I can see reasons for love here. As with Flickering Lantern, though, there's a sort of cloying quality in this rose, or perhaps in this combination, that isn't quite working for me. I love the beeswax-incense-vanilla portion, though.

Suffragium is the lovely palo santo and sandalwood-dominant blend I hoped for. All the hearts. I was introduced to palo santo as a room diffuser at a retreat this summer and ordered the essential oil when I got home. The EO smells lightly citrusy, herbal, and woody, serene and cleanly spiritual. A prominent sandalwood in the blend adds lots of incense, and I get some well-blended spice, also. There's a sweetness and a little cedar warmth (but nothing strong on me). Sometimes I get hints of sage-like dry grass, though sometimes palo santo puts that in my mind. This smells like a serenely spiced sandalwood fan. This would be a beautiful meditation scent. ETA: After a while settling, this turned to mostly labdanum cola. Good if you like that. Less good for me because I liked how it smelled earlier.

If you ever wanted to add just the Lucky Charms marshmallows to a bowl of Fruity Pebbles in sugary milk and suck it all down, but some sane adult stopped you, this one's for you.

A rustic and woodsy patchouli, warmed by a little cedar and dusted with smoke. This dragon was vapor-thin and not at all sweet when it first arrived, but after several days to settle, it has filled out and developed a little sweetness. I'm especially interested in aging this one more, although I like it at this point, too.

First up, I get lots of dragon's blood and strawberry-candy lolly. Quite red. As this dries, I also get some creaminess and a little vanilla. And the dragon's blood note turns floral. It is what it says it is, but a little prettier than I anticipated for the listed notes alone.

Fair Maiden Side-Eye is a peach skin musk filled out, roundly and beautifully, with an amber-ambergris base. I worry about the saltiness of ambergris, but it's restrained and pleasant here. I like how the amber and ambergris play together; between them and the slight vanilla, this smells full in a way that some blends have to age into. The cream is present, and smooths the other notes, but it is not heavy on me. It reminds me of the way some flowers are creamy. A delight.

James and the Giant Peach! When my friend tried this on, she got more of the musk, but on my skin it's intensely pulpy. Great, pulpy masses of white and golden peaches smear a silken screen of skin musk and tropically floral vanilla tea. Yeah, basically that.

Because I have a couple bottles left of the similar Daybreak, I was going to pass on this one until I saw the mention of jasmine. I usually love the LE jasmines, so... Freshly applied, True Love has more than a hint of jasmine on me. Equal parts of lavender and jasmine waft up, with a little creaminess smoothing them. The effect of the cream on them reminds me of gardenia. Coconut hints suffuse the blend. This is tropical and very, very pretty. In drying, the blend brings out more coconut and a lemony-green hint of lemongrass. Lemongrass can take over on me, but it's a soft touch here. When I first tried this blend, I smelled the cade during drydown, but I'm not really getting it on the re-test. On the first test, I noticed a bit of the dark, somehow hollow-toned juniper I remember from Wolves Howled, Ravens Screamed. It was scarcely there, and if I hadn't read about it, I would have written it off as a touch of odd skin chemistry. (Like yew berries, cade can smell a bit off on me.) It didn't feel like it fit with the rest of the blend, but it's not noticeable today, so... On both tests, after drydown, the blend quickly thins out, losing its shape. Then my skin eats most of it. Maybe it needs more of a fixative note for me. I'll see what time does for its longevity; but I'm certainly keeping it, because the first phase is so pretty.

The Fruitful Mother of Thousands that rules over the House of Man: golden bulbs bursting through the ground at the first light of Spring: sun-bright golden petals of daffodil, gladiolus, tulips, crocus, aconite and jonquil gilded with amber. I'm almost through my bottle of Qui Aime Bien Châtie Bien (daffodil petals and lavender tulips, blonde woods, freesia, a touch of pale honey). That could have been a sad occasion, because it's a go-to quirky spring floral for me, but then The Queen came out. I'm thrilled, because this does remind me a lot of Qui Aime, but with a bit of a golden tone in lieu of Qui Aime's sweet and watery one. (Qui Aime had smelled floral-aquatic to me in the way that Blue Bonnet SN smells blue floral-aquatic when I wear it. There's none of that here, but there's lots of unconventional spring floral goodness.) I catch daffodils and tulips most, but I'm not sure what the other listed flowers smell like. I don't smell amber as such, but a vague golden light seems to warm the blooms. From bottle to dry, this blend's balance is pretty consistent for me. This Queen is a warm and wildflower-ish spring bouquet. It's a cheer-bringer, as if these faces were flowers:

Like a Girl is an intoxicating vanilla-sandalwood skin musk, sweeter and more floral than I expected for its listed notes. Musk, vanilla, and sandalwood were strongest for me. The vanilla had a sheer quality that reminded me of Ava, which was interesting, because we were watching Only Lovers Left Alive while I was testing this. I also got a moderate and perfect amount of a frankincense that reminded me of the Implacable Beautiful Tyrant hair gloss I love. The floral hint was entirely in service of the vanilla musk: This wasn't a floral-category sort of blend, but rather a vanilla musk grounded in incense-like sandalwood and frank. Still, some well-blended floral hints made me think of white flowers, especially creamy gardenia, but I don't know what it was. This blend was quite potent on me, given the small amount I put on; I was glad, because I could not stop inhaling it.

Luke is a gorgeous amber clove, with saffron giving it a light texture like golden threads woven into cloth. I like clove but don't normally seek it out. However, this is a chase-worthy clove blend. It smells like ancient, golden, spice-trade wealth.

I see Cabbage Whites all over the place in the summer, so I liked seeing them come up in the series. Early on, this is dusty white orris and lily of the valley, with a touch of vanilla. The lily doesn't turn to soap. After drying, it goes more creamy on me, and reads as a creamy talcum powder touched with vanilla, orris, and violet. I also find something artificial about some of this blend's sweetness. It combines with the orris to feel like a store-bought powder, though a pleasant one. The perfume feels baby powder-adjacent during its wet phase, and closer to a calm and creamy talcum powder once dry.

Lady Una and Eostre of the Dawn Favorite long-term LEs (or are they GCs by now?): Illustrated Woman and lots of the Snek Pit sneks

This is a nostalgic blend: dark fruit on a complex, antique, and woody background. First applied, plum is most prominent. It's a deep plum, less bright and overtly fruity than I expected. Its depth blends right into the woodiness of the oudh, with hints of green cognac and incense. After a minute or few, I find a light and subtle woody patchouli and a little tobacco grounding the blend alongside the oudh. Once Shadow Lace has dried on me, its plum is soft, even subdued. Its other notes also fall back, as though in ennui on fainting couches. This is a low-throw, low-energy blend on my skin once dry. It develops a little vanilla fullness, but mostly lies supine and cannot be bothered, waving away all attempts to interrupt its reverie. Most of it fades from me in under two hours, but it's a beauty, and an experience, while it lasts.

I tried Amber Lace fresh out of the mailbox last night, and this morning after some rest, and the experiences differ a bit. In both cases, this began on my skin as a sweet, creamy-smooth vanilla amber with a drop of cognac. It's a full-bodied sweet and creamy blend edged in antique lace, all gold and sepia. In drydown, a subtle saffron emerges. Last night at this point, I just got the lace blend as a background beyond that. This morning I'm getting a prominent golden tobacco. Starting in drydown, a soft, golden tobacco and the vanilla cream are the most prominent notes. Amber warms the blend throughout with a diffuse golden light. Once this dries, all notes settle on me into a soft and creamy golden lace blend. I still pick out vanilla cream and cognac sometimes, but mostly this has gone all blendy. Surprisingly, I don't get oudh from this in any of its phases yet. It might come in later. When my friend tried this last night, she got loads of golden musk. She usually amps musks.

Lovely lavender. This herbal and slightly green lavender combined with hops reminds me of Lilith's hair gloss, with cool white mint instead of the powdery white musk. The two would pair well. On my skin, this blend is a lavender-hops combo at first. As it dries, the lavender finishes its top-note cavorting and wanders off. The mint mostly takes over. Dried, this becomes a minty hops blend. The mint is soft white peppermint, like an after-dinner mint without the candy. The hops are herbal and seem to carry their own bit of sweetness and wood.

Out of the gate on my skin, the Scepter is a soft, golden-amber citrus dirtied with a little oudh. In the citrus blend, I can pick out the bergamot, and the rest smells more like sweet orange to me than like the slightly bitter and green King mandarin note I've gotten from Asp Viper and a few other blends. The blend of the citrus notes is pretty, though softer than I expected. I think I am used to blends that are more Woo double mandarin nose poke! The oudh leans animalic, but it doesn't quite yell POUDH like the oudh of Bestla and Nevertheless, She Persisted did. For that I'm basically grateful. By drydown, the bergamot has faded, leaving a faint orange-mandarin impression coloring a more potent amber oudh. Oudh is actually the strongest note on me thereafter.

Warm wood-stuff on the forest floor. When first applied, Earth Mother gives patchouli and pine on a background of soft, warm acorns and other woody plant things. It smells like many shades of light, organic brown and an occasional dark pine green. In drydown, a little chewy hay warmth emerges, well blended and not calling much attention to itself. I'm cautious with hay, because it can get crazy, and I'm like, Calm down; you're hay. But it's so nice when blended and mild. Harmonious hay. After the blend dries, a sweet, dark vetiver trickles in, but it also stays well blended. From the dried Earth Mother I get dark vetiver, hay, patchouli, and woody plant things, in that order, but they're all very close and blendy. The patch is fuzzy and a bit earthy, but not really dirty, and it plays nicely. I wish the blend were a little less soft, but I like it more than enough for a bottle.

Last night, out of the mailbox, I had blue spruce coming on so fresh and strong and blue out of this, I thought it might need a timeout. Whoa holidays. On the other hand, I still enjoy wearing GYMNOSPERM LOVE. (Props, Lycanthrope, props!) Now, this morning, silvery fir stands tallest in the blend, lean and almost crystalline, like an icicle or the cough of a cold storm. The spruce is just an occasional drifting blue ghost. The Empress's forest is cold and fresh, mostly white and grey and green. After drydown, I get hints of woody oak and an uncharacteristically restrained cedar, but the fir still rules. Less than an hour in, the conifers fade and I start to get something that reminds me more of distant hay or dried grass. It's clubmoss, maybe? It's dry and autumnal after the initial wintry rush, and it seems time has reversed its progression. But its phase doesn't last long. It's the last breath of this forest before it dissipates on me. An autumn and winter blend that's enjoyable, if a bit short-lived.

With Magician's Belt first applied, the almond flower is strongest on my skin. It's a gentle almond, though: not quite the bold amaretto-like almond I often get. Beneath that is a soft benzoin and a little thread of frankincense. As the blend dries, I smell the rose, though it seems faint. It mostly blends into the other notes. So far, in the few white rose blends I've tried, the rose doesn't stand out for me the way that other rose colors do. The frankincense grows after drydown, but for me it remains lighter and paler than the potency and rich, golden quality it has in Sept. This is a soft, off-white, cushiony sort of blend, easy to wear anywhere.

Rolling with her homies, profoundly jetlagged at the British Museum. Golden honey and cassia. My Lilith order is still processing, but as my friend's arrived days ago, we did a little testing with her bottles tonight. Four Sons of Horus was perhaps, of the lot, the most similar on our two skin chemistries. Cassia was dominant on a backdrop of sweet honey with support, maybe, from an unlisted myrrh. The myrrh note gave the cassia some darkness and depth; the honey seemed to provide most of the sweetness. Horus was a solid if uncomplicated fragrance that changed little in a couple hours, just becoming more blended on my skin.

The Initiatrix keeps a similar balance on my skin through its phases: a little red rose warming and cheering things, but a more prominent creamy, vanilla benzoin as others have described it. It's still resinous, just with even more of a calm vanilla than I usually notice from benzoin. I don't get it from the bottle, but on my skin, now and then I get a soft, almost tart, reddish fruity tone that reminds me, more than anything, of cranberries. It's subtle and seems to contribute to the "red" benzoin-rose impression, while adding a bit of fruity vibe. Basically, I've been surprised now and then to sniff this and think, "Kinda fruity? Red fruits? What's this?" But primarily this stays a creamy benzoin, with whiffs of red rose that come and go.

Short version: My experience with Crescent Moon is similar to VetchVesper's, plus copal. Longer: I love amber and sage, but I was initially going to skip this one because copal and juniper are iffy for me. In early reviews, amber and sage seemed to be the main players, so this went on my list. But my experience has been more like later reviews, where juniper is stronger. Plus copal. Freshly applied, this shows a shimmering juniper: cool, herbal, a bit ginny, slightly blue but mostly green. It's astringent, at first bordering on medicinal, but that quality settles down soon. The coolness is whitened with sage and sweetened with amber. And, hey? I pick out a copal hint. I had thought that note would ghost. After drydown, Crescent Moon morphs on me into a copal-dominant blend. And... it's gorgeous. Copal usually smells earthy, woody, and slightly smoky to me. What I smell here is like that, but leans woody, and even reminds me just a bit of the wood blend in Magician's Wand. I'm having none of my usual trouble with copal here. I'm delighted that copal and juniper both work for me here. And I have nothing else quite like this mix. It's dualistic, with a shining, herbal, green, and fresh opening that morphs on my skin into a calm, lightly sweet, woody-brown base that's both comforting and spiritual. The juniper and sage are an initial wake-up, and then the copal shifts it to a spiritual mood. Fitting for a crescent moon.