Casablanca

Grief smells mixed on the wand, partly soft white floral, partly something a little off. Wet on my skin, it gets worse: this smells to my nose like the whine of a mosquito sounds in my ear. Something has gone wrong with this on my skin. I'm not sure how to describe the icky part of this: like a bland vegetable left in a baggie to get slimy, but not yet rotting? The odor settles down before long, turning into a cleaner green, like grass. I wonder if that is the calamus. It isn't very friendly with me. There's little throw to this and it's mostly gone in an hour.

Wet on my skin, this smells like a soft white floral grounded in an inviting fig. The fig is anchoring this and keeping it from drifting off into soft-floral outer space. The first impression is clean and good, with that alluring fig earthiness. The fig is critical. Before a full minute passes, the flowers go soapy on me. Soap bubbles seem to rise over my feet, to my knees, my shoulders. I start to lose the delicious fig in the suds. Nooooo... I'm drifting away in suds. The fig is in the suds, too, bobbing further and further away. I start to lose sight of it. I feel like waving my hands around and yelling for Wilson. Later, the soap subsides and I have a faint, dull white floral on my arm. I can't see my beloved fig anymore. I was carried far away in soapy bubbles and my beloved is gone. The sandalwood might have saved us, given us some wood to hang onto so we could drift away together, but the sandalwood only appears a half hour after the storm. This is cause for Grief... which I'm also testing today.

2015 I like fougeres and tea blends. I see nothing but goodness coming from Theo based on the notes. On my skin, Theodosius smells like lavender: the color, not the herb, although I think I get a little of that aromatic herb, too. The tea is prominent and clean, merging well into a light jasmine-vanilla-musk combination. The fougere is strong beside the tea. Fougere and teas together seem such a natural pairing. I also seem to get orange, maybe bergamot, and grapefruit. After drydown, the tonka from the fougere comes forward, steeped in vanilla tea, and it's lovely. I like this.

I get sweet, strong red and blue berries -- mostly red, but a blueberry here and there for interest -- over a faint creamy note that's like yogurt without any sourness. The oats are present but also faint. This is mostly about the berries. Before two hours are gone, this is just a faint berry impression on my skin.

Preconceptions: This sounds red. I'm not sure how Indonesian patchouli is for me (I mostly avoid the patch), but this rest of this sounds winning. In the bottle, I smell red and amber, but bottle sniffing limits everything. On my skin, the blend's lovely spice and more subtle qualities open up: I get red amber and spice mostly, with a well-blended earthy backdrop. Spanish moss always smells earthy and welcoming to me -- it reminds me of fig in that way. This blend smells red and spicy-brown with a band of muted green here and there, and it's lovely. Over a couple hours, the spice grows on me. It's a good blend: spicy without going all festive holiday.

I love orange blossom, and I can do red patchouli (it was fine in Anne Bonny). So although I didn't order this, and got it as a free sample, I'm not afraid of it either. On the wand, Ravenous is a simple rustic floral: all soft reddish patchouli woods and white orange blooms. On my skin the reddish rustic quality grows a little, but the balance is close to how it was on the wand. Ravenous is likable. I'm not excited but I like it. Then I layered it with Jack, and I really like it. :-)

Jack absolutely smells glowing. It's the peach, which is warm and soft rather than bright, against a background of similar orange hue gone darker: the pumpkin itself. The nutmeg and clove are clear. I also get vanilla passing through it all. Lovely and essentially Halloween, though a warm one, rather than a chilly October night. It fades fast on me, but is good enough to reapply.

Wet on my skin, this is intensely strawberry bubble gummy, with some clove and maybe another spice or two. After drying, the strawberry and bubble gum (lotus?) notes diminish on my skin while the spice grows, gains some anise, and starts to smell all festive holiday.

2015 Preconceptions: I've been wanting a spiced black cherry, or I wouldn't have risked both patchouli and verbena. I can occasionally -- but more often don't -- get along with patchouli. Verbena I like, but it has a way of taking over. In this case I was thinking the verbena might instead help these heavy notes, and also might not be able to dominate them. This might be a high-impact brew all around. Mostly I'm concerned about the patch. This goes on a deep, lush, and earthy black cherry-cassis, syrupy and wantonly spiced. The verbena is light -- very light at first -- and a welcome lift for the heavyweight other notes. However, as this starts its drydown, the verbena strengthens and gives this a temporary medicinal quality. I think the combo of lemon and cherry syrup brings this blend right up against every sort of non-menthol cough suppressant, and it's probably going to remind some people of that, but the spice keeps it apart in my mind. The patchouli is well-blended, but is both grounding and repellent, in the way it often is for me. In this case, though, I think aging might fix it -- the cherry is so strong now, I think it might hold up OK over time. During drydown the patch settles, and so does my stomach. This smells like blackened red and dark maroon.

Lemon dish suds? A little cologne? Hurrrh? I get a burst of lemon dish soap at first, which quickly fades to a lemon-tinted and lightly soapy, pale ambery cologne, with a hint of ginger and herbs.

White musk, wild plum, vetiver, black coconut, verbena, fig, and lavender. 2015 In my mind, before smelling this, the horror of Antonino isn't his creepy mask or fiery pole, but the verbena lurking in his brew, just waiting to take over and maul the blend with its imposing lemony self. Over time, I think I put Antonino in my cart and removed it four times before finally pulling the trigger; eventually the other notes and the general Carnie lure won me over. The liquid comes out on my arm lemony yellow. Is it a sign? I'm thinking this when the smell hits me. Right up front, Antonino is a burst of lemon, like a heavy yellow curtain thrown down from the flyspace to hide all the cool stuff onstage. Despite the obfuscation, I get hints of the plum behind it, trying hard, and almost in vain, to make itself known. When I hunt for anything else, I find a little coconut. That's about it for the wet phase. Dried, and after an hour at least, the verbena finally steps back but remains a presence. The coconut is gone, but I get a lovely blend of plum and fig with a hint of vetiver. The lavender still hasn't shown up. At two hours, the verbena is gone. I just smell a little residual plum-fig, with a soft, well-mannered vetiver and an eensy weensy tint of lavender. The scent is nearly gone from my skin by now, though.

Despite my lack of familiarity with most of these notes, I picked up this old bottle on a hunch of goodness, and I'm glad I did. It smells grey-green and grey-brown to me, with some light purple flowers that open in wispy blooms on my skin after a couple minutes. This smells like dried purple flowers hung from the beams of a wood-and-straw hut, and lichen on an old-growth tree. This smells like a scent that rustles crisply but softly with botanical age. I smell the sage and wood, and a soft, leafy green, but the dried flowers are stronger on my skin through the life of the scent. The scent is mostly gone after a mere hour and a half, though, so this is probably one for frequent reapplication.

The lab's dragon's blood mix smells to me like hints of actual dragon's blood resin in a warm, sweet, cherry-toned floral. As described, this is dragon's blood and a slightly oceanic saline solution. The ocean note is short-lived on me, leaving only salty dragon's blood. Saltwater hasn't really drawn me in to date. It's just kinda there.

The lab's dragon's blood mix smells to me like hints of actual dragon's blood resin in a warm, sweet, cherry-toned floral. I smell that, and seem to also pick up red, white, and black musks, and possibly the skin musk of Neutral. As to the fifth... could it be an Egyptian musk? I'm getting something here that reminds me very much of that. I like this blend for a musky mood.

The lab's dragon's blood mix smells to me like hints of actual dragon's blood resin in a warm, sweet, cherry-toned floral. Dragon's Hide has that and a leather note that begins nearly transparent and gains a little strength as it dries. I only smell the faint smoke, at first, when I compare this to other dragon's blood blends from the lab. Like the leather, it strengthens as it dries. I quite like this once it dries, but I wish it were stronger. The Hide is a skin scent, appropriately, I s'pose...

The lab's dragon's blood mix smells to me like hints of actual dragon's blood resin in a warm, sweet, cherry-toned floral. This is the dragon's blood with a creamy, frothy honey-vanilla. Unlike in Dragon's Hide, the non-dragon's blood smells are strong, and dominate the blend. This is a frothy honey vanilla, with dragon's blood on the side. This is a comforting scent that, after a while, smells too sweet for my preference.

In the bottle, I smell vanilla mint and a green sweetness. On my skin, They Shall Eate is a beautiful light green-smelling vanilla mint. This reminds me very much of Green Tree Viper, but without the Snake Oil, and instead with very lightly balsamic woods deepening it. The blend is fantastic, and I can't stop sniffing it while it's wet. Within a half hour, the vanilla mint throw drops close to the skin. The mint is now very soft, and it has quickly become a barely there scent. Two hours later, I barely smell it on me.

I was very surprised (and pleased, but confused) to recently receive this as a frimp with an order. How aged is it, I wonder? On the wand: Oh, my. This is lovely. A gorgeous and well-blended golden and slightly sweet resin. Can I have found the desert scent I've been craving? Is this a blend I can do even though it has red musk? On my skin: This is a beautiful spicy desert oriental. This is the first red musk fragrance that the red musk hasn't spoiled for me, which is probably because I don't smell it. Frankincense is dominant, then myrrh and other resins, and soft spices, all a bit sweetened, which may be the aged honey. (There is only a very light and blended honey note, though.) Everything is softened and toned, maybe an effect of age. This is close to the skin. After an hour the amber steps forward a bit on my skin. The whole blend is fading quickly, though, and is but a resinous Egyptian ghost on my skin before long.

The first impression on my skin is soft, worn brown leather. A splash of salty tears follows, and then together come the beeswax and smoke, incense, aged paper, and a thin needle-like note of metal. A musty, unhealthy blanket of dust covers it all: what a friend sniffed and called "moth balls." Once dried, the blend settles mainly into a musty, incense-dusted leather book. The tears dry and leave traces of salt, but the other notes change less than they just fade and integrate. I could do without the salt and musty dust but like the rest. Unfortunately, if fittingly, the mustiness of the blend grows on my skin with the passage of time.

An olfactory smoke storm: the heavy smoke, burning wood, resins, and billowing waft of yellow sulfur are almost dizzying. Brimstone settles, though, into a much more accessible smoky skin scent. I'd be happy to have most of my skin smell like this, but would hesitate to start the trial of that wet stage. I love the fire, smoke, resins, and whatnot, but Brimstone may overdo a good thing. I'd like to layer it with other scents, though. I'm curious to start with Lights of Men's Lives, with its lovely candle smoke and honey-vanilla wax.

I love smoke and fire and stuff! I like this more than Brimstone: it has much more of the crackling flames than the smoke, and among the smoke, I catch no trace of sulfur. This is a glowing red, smoky, and floral smell of bonfire, part realistic and part imagined fire smell. The red floral part reminds me of the lab's dragon's blood mix, but the woodsmoke brings it closer to fire than to resin. A note of wood ash dusting the end of the scent smells cozy, and not at all ash tray. Djinn dries down to a soft and sweet floral campfire note.

I smell ozone first, but it quickly gives way to hints of dark greenery, a faintly spicy floral, glimpses of lush reddish fruit, and a woody, slightly resinous, black musk -- but not the sulfuric hint I expected from "volcanic gas." This smells like a dark wilderness left wild. It has a lot going on, wilderness-like. I seem to smell a reddish cedar-like wood, frankincense, and myrrh alongside vetiver musk. The floral-fruit also smells red, and reminds me of the lab's dragon's blood. One of the elemental blends that works for me. Keep.

On the wand, Cthulhu is like a quintessential oceanic aquatic. Breezy, cold, watery, slippery vegetal, and a little salty. The aquatic part seems to have something white and floral in it, a bit like gardenias, and something a little citrusy, maybe grapefruit, but just as little parts of the whole. On my skin, it's more soapy; I guess I expected that, but the saltiness also grows at first, which I didn't. Then the dark element comes out as something briny and biological: it's not rotting kelp, more like dark, grey-green sea creature skin. I like my oceans to smell like the pure sea spray freedom of travel, or my Caribbean vacation. I'm glad I tried this freebie, but it's not for me.

On the wand: "Wow. That's, um..." Cthulhu was a carefree skip through rainbowed New England waters compared to this. I have to gather my thoughts before a second sniff. See before you a beach blackened with both a perpetual desaturated night and the leavings of all the sea's dead things upon its flat, brine-locked sand. The stench is overwhelmingly blackened grey-green, rotten, and briny. Is science a strong enough reason to put this oil on my skin? On me, The Deep Ones smells so salty that my mouth waters, trying to urge me to drink something clean. But then, after a minute or so, it backs off into being just blandly salty and laundry-like, almost a soft floral. My skin turned Lovecraft monsters into dryer sheets! The mighty power of skin. Anyway... um, not so much.

Lemon verbena likes to take over, and is the clear first impression on the wand, alongside a very clean green note of tea and bamboo. The combined notes make me think of lemongrass. The honeysuckle seems subtle to me, not an oozy-honeyed floral smell, but somehow also clean. Shanghai is the same on my skin, just as light and clean with the same balance of notes, though I think when a friend tried it on months ago, it turned right to Lemon Pledge on her. Skin chemistry differences are always fascinating to experience firsthand. I'm a little curious if these differences signify anything else about us. But at the least, they're another way scent is personal. When I first tried Shanghai, I loved its light, beautiful, clean simplicity. I still like it, but it competes with the other green tea choices I now have, and I don't enjoy a standout lemon note as much except in high contrast against something like vetiver or black tea (as in Qandisa and Dorian). For the mood I get from Shanghai, I'd probably sooner turn to Shamisen or On the Porch in the Rain. But I still like it, and so does my skin.