ah the gatekeeper. i was very excited about this perfume, wanted to smell like how it described. i fell in love at first read, and first sniff
in the bottle: bone, that was my first thought. airy bone. reminds me of a trip i once took to mexico, standing on the dusty desert road, gazing upon the real hotel california. and while it brings back that memory, what it smells like to me is when i laid in bed that night, and smelled the memories of the old store i went to, the leathery seats of the bar, and the book i still regret not buying
wet: it's got a masculine hint to it. it smells like sweetened bone, which i think is the papyrus melting with it, and rich leather. i couldn't stop sniffing my wrists, it made me feel like i was a ruler of something, but im not sure what. maybe an old abandoned alleyway that you pass everyday, but are to afraid to approach, sometimes lit up by a strange metallic white light. yes, that's what i felt like the ruler of. very foreboding in the best possible way.
dry 30 or so minutes: it turned sour. like the bone started to decay and the papyrus started to rot with it. everything about it turned sour, the leather deteriorated after years of being grabbed, the old books now smelled strange after hundred of years of dirty fingers toying the pages. at first i didn't like this phase, and hoped it would fade. and it did, after about 10 minutes. while i was thankful it faded, it was like passing through the gates of death, the dark and gloomy side that is not possible to romanticize
dry 1hr+: heady, solemn, and strange in the perfect way. the original wet smell returned, with the books being more pronounced and very dusty. it's like i walked through a long forgotten library, the patrons consisting of the skeletons of scholars who studied their lives away. the beginning was more secretive, and tricky. the entrance lulled you in like a kitten following a bell. after entering, and walking along the dim room, hearing the scratchy sound of brittle bones against parchment, though the skeletons didn't appear to move, the room became dank, like it was filled with damp fog. it was scary you see, i thought i would never return to either side. but it passed quickly, the thick fog left and i wandered about in a light mist for a time. then i found the heavenly niche, the promise that lured me to the library in the first place. i found where the dead lived on, opening dust ridden tomes and i could smell them in their old suits, a whiff of bone each time they went to grab something new. they welcomed me as one of them, though i was still human. i'm trapped now, i fear there's no escape. i shall become one of them overtime as my body wastes away, but my soul shall stay in the brittle bones to come. i imagine that's how these fellows got to be the way they are. the thirst for “ancient, whispered secrets” well worth the price of skin and gut.
