Casablanca
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Everything posted by Casablanca
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2016 On the wand, I smell ylang ylang and lotus made creamy in vanilla fig milk. And just a little grey-green coolness from the fir. On my skin, the creamy milk comes forward, swirled with sweet vanilla, alongside lotus and fig. I don’t catch fir at all on my skin, and the ylang ylang ebbs into subtlety. I can find myrrh and a pale incense now, though. Low-medium throw becomes low throw as this dries. It settles down to perhaps the most innocently comforting skin scent I know of. It reminds me of clean babies, but better. Baby++.
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I had been concerned that the raspberry would stand out too brightly against the dark backdrop of the other notes, but it’s definitely a black raspberry and fits in. On the wand, this is tangy black raspberry tea. It hints of smoke from the birch tar, but the tar is a light touch. (I have a bottle of a birch tar component, and the stuff gives a strong sort of leathery-smoky campfire punch, but it shows up delicately here.) My immediate impression of the blend is like. On my skin, this is about the same, except I think I might be picking up on a little dark grey iron. It’s like the note from Ganymede. Negligible or imagined, I’m not sure. Black raspberry is still the most potent note, followed by black tea, and a hint of smoke. Tangy, dark, slightly smoky and bitter. I started out liking this, but not immediately addicted, and it’s grown on me. Probable bottle for the cause.
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2016 I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants. My friend’s skin works wonders with red musk and leather, and on her, Krampus was an awesome thing defying description. On me… Krampus is a warhorn blast of BO-stinky red musk, dust, and sodden-wet rags. Then a sort of cinnamon cedar-broom wood wafts out like the doorway gust of a craft shop. And then black leather. I’m so happy to smell the leather amongst the rest of this that I want to hug it and bring it home. Because this is awful on me, it lasts forever. I’m sure this is a scientifically proven causation! I don’t need this one, but my friend plans on two bottles.
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2016 I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants. My tastes don’t usually run gourmand, and I don’t need more chocolate blends, but this one is kind of special on me. When my friend and I compared, this one was intoxicating (almost spiced dark rum-like, along with the listed notes) on my skin, but a little bit flat on hers. Strong throw. I get all the notes. They’re just really good together, and I wish a hot mug of it were in front of me. After work…
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2016 I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants. On the wand, this is Boom! Brown-sugary/molasses yellow cake! Some herbs (tarragon?) and a wildly aquatic cologne sit behind it. The cologne part does not smell like Dorian. I also smell no lavender. This might be different from the earlier year… On my skin, it’s the same as on the wand. The cake dominates and smells both brown and yellow to me, like a yellow cake covered with molasses or brown sugar. This is herbal; the herbs are blended but seem like “hot” herbs, like maybe tarragon. At the base is, of all things, an aquatic cologne. I don’t smell ashes. Once the Cake dries, though, the notes blend together with something comforting I don’t recognize at first. I think now it might be the ash. It reminds me of the smell of a living room after a fireplace was going for a while. It smells like a couch from that room. Strange brew.
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2016 I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants. On the wand, this smells to me like sweet coconut flowers, with a faint vinyl scent that seems to come from some snow/coldness notes for me. The first impression on my skin is of sweet, creamy white coconut, flowers, and a little cold vinyl that reminds me of when I sampled a 2007 Rose Red. Each time I try to enjoy the floral coconut, vinyl wafts all over all the things. A pervasive artificiality, sometimes bordering on suntan lotion. It has a good longevity on me, though. Neither my friend nor I felt this one worked for us.
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I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants. On the wand, this smells to me like a soft, white orris-sandalwood blend. The first impression on my skin is of dry, cold, astringent white tea leaf and sweet orris. The tea really comes forward. The orris is only slightly powdery on me. I think there might be another flower in here besides iris... There’s a coldness note here, too. This is an essence of a cold desert, the scent of Mongolian steppes. I find the vanilla only when I hunt for it; it’s flat and subtle. I can barely pick out the sandalwood. As Desert Places dries, the white tea marshals all its leafy forces and takes over. It smells like the white tea in the White Tea and Sage HG and the two would pair well. The orris is still present, but secondary. Once dried, this is a blended floral white tea on me, just a hint of vanilla. I like this, but it might be too much orris for me. It would be an easy bottle buy with less orris and more vanilla.
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I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants. The first impression on my skin is a rich but soft ambergris hay, with a faint woodiness behind it. The hay and wood, and somehow even the light saltiness of the ambergris, remind me of the interior of a barn (but without the muck) from my riding days. This blend reminds me of Himalia, without that one’s vanilla honey sweetness and potent vetiver. As Gloomy Day starts to dry, I get more of its balsamic tone coming out, but it fades back again. This is mostly ambergris hay on me. After a half hour, it’s mainly ambergris. The blend fits its description. It’s a soft scent rather than a forward one, but it smells nicely rounded and filled out. I’m not a fan of salty smells, but the ambergris salt here is pretty mellow and I like this. When I sniff Gloomy Day side-by-side with Faunalia, the two smell pretty good together.
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2016 I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants. First impression on my skin: what a rich brown forest musk! It’s like walking in some woods where a snuggly brown mammal has made itself happy against every tree. Musky fur covers every bark surface, and there’s something cozy about the place. As Faunalia starts to dry, more of its wood comes out on my skin. I don’t smell any specific wood, not even the hemlock. It’s just musky, fur-covered forest. After a half hour, I smell even amounts of skin-soft wood and musk. This is like a richer, more forested version of Coyote’s musky grass plains. When I sniff Faunalia side-by-side with Gloomy Day, the two smell pretty good together.
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2016 I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants. On the wand, Gacela reminds me a lot of Przeczucie. A lot lot. It’s like a heavier version of it without the smoke, except for the smoky tone in the pitch. Same Terebinth note, perhaps. On my skin, it’s similar but with a touch of clove. I was half-expecting a hammer of clove, so this is OK. As normal for my skin, the clove strengthens as it dries, but it never overrides the pine. A weighty, foreboding forest scent in the vein of Przeczucie and Black Forest.
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I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants. Soft, dry spearmint candies. They smell like minty pastel colors. I can just see the after-dinner mints in a crystal dish on the counter next to the cash register of a Mexican restaurant. The mints seem a little incongruous with all the margaritas in my belly, but they’re still part of the fun of dining out. That’s like this blend.
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I got to sample this with my friend as one of her decants. On the wand, this is a slightly sweet, cold blue conifer blend. Mostly, I smell juniper. I also think of hemlock, though none is listed. Wet on my skin, Winter turns abruptly medicinal, like a menthol-blue Halls cough drop. Forest blends usually work on me, so this was quite an about face. Menthol juniper with a soft hint of cold, swampy cypress, and an even softer hint of dried leaves. The menthol rush settles in five or 10 minutes. At this point I start smelling a lot more hemlock, or something that reminds me of it, and some fir. I don’t find oakmoss or benzoin. Once Winter dries, a hint of oakmoss creeps out. Lovely note. Wish it were less faint. This one behaved similarly on me and my friend, and it didn’t quite work for either of us.
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I got to sample this as one of my friend’s decants last night. On the wand, there isn’t much that’s distinct for me – I just get a soft blend of orange-warmed black dust. On my skin, Allegory opens with blood orange, scarce hints of brown leather and black dust, and an unlisted vetiver. At the start of drydown, I start to smell musk, like a blood orange musk – though now and then I get a hint of red musk mingling in. It's as though they were made together, becoming a red-orange spectrum of musk that’s far more attractive to me than the lab’s red musk alone. After this dries, though, the orange fades and this gets closer to regular red musk on my skin. It also becomes far more sooty, the coal amping on me as it did in Le Père Fouettard. It doesn’t work on me. On my friend, this one really bloomed. Anything with leather and/or red musk in it just rounds out wonderfully on her, and she could scarcely tear herself away from huffing this and Krampus all night.
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2016 I got to sample this as one of my friend’s decants last night. Everything in the notes list appeals except the wafer, so I had skipped ordering it myself. On the wand, I smell mostly coal, and a mingling of other things I can’t identify. On my skin, though, I smell a brown-sugary, cakey wafer, coal dust, and a hint of black leather. I’m intrigued and quite drawn to this at first because I love smoke and leather. The cakey note is giving this something homey and a little sweet, but it’s still as sooty as a Christmas chimney sweep. Each time I sniff I think of Smokestack. A little black licorice shows up in the drydown. I really like this, though I can tell it wouldn’t be an everyday scent. After a half-hourish, the non-smoke notes disperse and this turns into nearly single-note industrial smoke on me. This is sad ‘cause it’s kinda boring by itself.
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2016 I got to sample this as one of my friend’s decants last night. I wouldn’t have ordered this one because of the competition from great-looking other blends, but I’m so glad she did. On the wand, Pere Noel is all creamsicle candy – until about halfway through the inhale. Then I start to find something behind it, become intrigued. Then it blooms in the back of my nose at the end of the inhale, as the orange subsides, and I realize it’s lavender. An herbal, slightly medicinal lavender, but so pretty, and this sniffy progression of notes tickles my fancy. On my skin, the blend is mostly creamsicle at first; I don’t find as much lavender as I did on the wand, but there’s a hint. I’m not much for creamsicle, so I hadn’t ordered this myself. But after a few minutes, I start to smell a sugary lavender. By the time this has dried, the creamsickle has settled down. The lavender smells both herbal and candy-like. The anise has appeared and the whole has blended together into a scent that reminds me of Christmas even though it’s unlike any Christmas scent I grew up with. Quirky, pretty, intriguing, different. I love.
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This goes on me as a punch of dry-cherry-ish dragon’s blood and red and black musks (about in that order of strength). Underneath, I pick up black currant and a somewhat Fig-Newtony fig. As this starts to dry, incense rolls out, amping on me as it tends to in drydown. Not being a fan of the lab’s red musk, I like this phase better -- although the incense that rolls over the red musk also dulls most of the other notes. A little black musk hangs in with it, and just the softest fig-and-black currant mingling. The dragon’s blood rears up again once this has fully dried, and hangs out with the incense and musk. The lab’s red musk doesn’t work with my chemistry and usually turns to a BO smell after a while, but I think the other notes are stronger this time, and I never get that. Still, I have other incense blends I enjoy more.
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Wet on my skin, this is a waxy red apple with touches of green and opium (more of the former than the latter), and maybe a tiny-wee drop of honey hidden within. The apple is a bit tart like a Gala, but also a little sour, and overall reminds me more of a Red Delicious, waxy skin and all. There’s something floral about the blend, but I’m not familiar with oleander. After drydown, I don’t smell the hemlock anymore, but there seems to be a sweetness apart from the apple that might be the oleander. It blends well with the red apple, but there’s something a little unpleasant to me on the end of an inhale of it, a little bitter and overly dried. It smells like a bitter blow dryer. This starts off well, but maybe oleander doesn’t work for me.
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Not being a fan of mushroom smells or the lab’s black patchouli, I wouldn’t have ordered this, but I love fig and oakmoss, so I’m pleased to get a chance to try it. On the wand, I smell fig and oakmoss. On my skin, though, the mushrooms gain volume at first, with fig playing a strong second fiddle. I also get a slight creamy, nutty tone that reminds me of ambrette. The patchouli is just a grounding touch beneath these; I don’t mind it at this strength. The blend fades into a quiet skin scent on me once it dries, barely there. After a bit the fig fades from this, followed by the shrooms. The creamy, nutty tone I got earlier has also mostly faded, and now I get a soft vanillic thing that reminds me of benzoin. I’ll enjoy this imp. It’s not quite my thing, though.
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Wet on my skin, this is a lovely leather-rosewood blend with hints of tonka, pale incense, paper, and other woods. As Dee dries, his leather, paper and incense amp on me. It’s like he, or someone else wearing these things, is sitting so close as to almost touch my nose. Even as I write, the incense has surpassed the others and come into dominance. After drydown, a soft vanilla beeswax note joins the party. It contributes to and blends into the pale impression from the incense. I like this and may bottle it once my Wan White Humming Hive is empty, because it reminds me of that blend.
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Almond is impactful, and behaves that way here. The first impression on my skin is a burst of buttery almond, like marzipan, with a rocks glass of spiced rum on the side. After a minute, I find the sassafras, and it’s a nice touch in the blend. The spices are fairly subdued on application, but amp considerably on me as Port-au-Prince dries. Dried, this is a clove-dominant scent on my skin. The rum, meanwhile, fades quickly. I like this as an occasional foodie holiday scent. The buttery bay and clove contribute much to a Christmas vibe.
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Pretty blend in the wet stage. The first impression on my skin is of white chamomile, blue-toned cypress and juniper, an unlisted lemon, and a scant hint of pinkish rose. The chamomile doesn’t have any of the dry, pollen-like texture that I’ve gotten from some of the lab’s chamomile blends. Rome, unfortunately, turns to soap on me in the drydown.
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Thin, dark, and shadowed. A scent that offers no sustenance, comfort or satiety: lemon peel, white sage, frankincense, lavender fougere, sandalwood, vetiver and labdanum. Lovely blend. The initial lemon is present but doesnt overwhelm, balanced with white sage, frankincense, and a subtle lavender. I also get a touch of sandalwood at this stage. Frankincense, labdanum, and sandalwood come out on me as this dries, though hints of lemon and lavender linger. I like it.
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2016 version Ded Moroz comes out on my wrist as a bright carmine fluid. For the first several days I had this, it smelled almost like nothing. It just smelled something like a weak saffron on my skin, if anything, though no such note is listed. I’ve let it settle now for six days, and it has a little more to it now. The first impressions are minty, snowy sage, deep reddish wood, and a touch of pale amber. On an exhale I can feel, also, a little teak lingering, barely there. I feel like I still get a suggestion of unlisted saffron, but it could be something else. After it dries, Ded Moroz becomes a very pretty mint-sage-wood skin scent. This is lovely, but, sadly, still kind of thin. I hope it fills out more with more settling.
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I love the way this one plays on me. It comes out a lovely, deep, and take-no-prisoners black tobacco and leather smell, with moderate frankincense, vanilla, and clove, and wee hints of champaca and petitgrain. I don’t find red patchouli until I hunt for it. Brilliant mix. This is the scent of a hardened gentleman-soldier; it makes me think of every movie I’ve seen with a Russian checkpoint. On my friend, it played very differently: it went all sweet clove petitgrain. She loves leather so that could have been a disappointment, but we both marveled (not for the first time) at how very different some blends read on our skins.
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Wet on my skin, a mingled moss and bitter-sharp green ivy dominate the blend, but there’s also a coldly sweet white rose and a little dark musk showing up behind them. The musk never really comes into its own on my skin, but it could have touches of vetiver and lemon myrtle. Not at the potency of black musk, though, if it does. Once dried, I start picking up a beeswax note, too. Backed by a little musk, it’s giving the blend a smooth, ethereal vibe. By now the sharpness and bitter bite of ivy is gone. I had liked it, so I kind of regret that, but I’m also liking what the scent has morphed into. The ivy just smells dark green and dry, like an old garden, and a little peppery. The moss is softer by now as well. The rose also blooms in drydown, but stays well-behaved. I like this. It felt like a gamble but I’m glad I went with it.
