This is the first part of an installment we'd like to call "Fragplace Questionnaire". Popular fragrance reviewers and content creators, but also fragrance enthusiasts who simply love sharing their passion - will give you insight into what perfume means for them.
Our first interviewee is known on social media as Ghoulnextdoor. Sarah Elizabeth is a Florida-based writer and blogger, deeply immersed in the world of art, music, fashion, and perfume, exploring these subjects through the lens of horror, the supernatural, and existential reflection. You can find more about her on this website and make sure to follow her on Instagram.
Tuesday, December 3rd, 2024
I am wearing from Eauso Vert, because it is so incredible evocative and I wanted to conjure that atmosphere as I am currently recording my review for it on TikTok. The TLDR version: fruit as creature of the night; goth California Raisins; a black mass of unholy cherries.
I was in high school, desperately seeking coolness - but not the conventional kind I saw around me. I wanted something more subversive, more mysterious. I began deliberately choosing strange, off-kilter fragrances as a way to manifest the weirdness I wanted to see in the world. Through scent, I found a subtle way to stand apart, which gave me the confidence to explore other unconventional interests and curiosities.
While gourmand scents aren't appealing to me when they're overtly dessert-like, there's intrigue in sophisticated interpretations that abstract food elements into something more conceptual - perhaps capturing the warmth of vanilla without the sweetness, or the richness of chocolate without being literal. The artistry lies in transforming these edible elements into something more ethereal and unexpected. I can't predict the next big trend in terms of specific notes or styles, but I find it concerning that we're moving toward AI-generated perfume descriptions and visuals. This shift away from human writers and artists who can genuinely convey the emotional and sensory experience of fragrance feels like a loss for the art of perfumery.
The idea of a signature scent assumes we remain unchanged, but perfume is transformative because we are always transforming - each fragrance we choose reflects the fluid nature of both scent and self, an acknowledgment that change is our constant companion. Some days, I want to smell like a marble bust veiled in wild ivy, cool stone warmed by afternoon sun. Other days, I need to wear a scent that sparkles like a scatter of stars across dark velvet - brilliant, distant, otherworldly. There are mornings when only the soft embrace of a winter sweater will do, all cashmere comfort and quiet warmth. And then there are times when I want to embody an entire gothic cathedral - all soaring stone and ancient incense, stained glass shadows and whispered prayers. Our desires shift like light through those very windows. Why settle for a single melody when life offers an entire symphony of scent?
Great fragrances transcend traditional categories by speaking to experiences we all share. Chanel's Sycomore is a perfect example - it captures the universal appeal of an autumn forest walk, where crisp vetiver mingles with ethereal smoke and damp earth. It's for anyone who appreciates the contrast between wild nature and polished sophistication, anyone who wants to carry a bit of October woodland wrapped in cashmere.
What I cherish most about this community is finding those kindred spirits who understand that fragrance is about more than just a list of notes or performance metrics. I've found my home among the dreamers and storytellers who see perfume as a doorway to other worlds, who understand that a great scent can transport you to a rain-soaked garden at midnight or a sun-warmed library filled with ancient books. These are the people who get excited about the way a perfume can conjure entire narratives and emotions, rather than just talking about how many compliments it gets or its projection. In this smaller circle of the fragrance world, we speak the same language of transformation and imagination.
I mostly avoid reviewers since I prefer to form my own uninfluenced impressions, but I do follow a select few who bring real insight - LC (nearlynoseblind on TikTok) and perfumers like Yosh Han and James Elliott of Filigree & Shadow who share genuine knowledge about their craft. Unfortunately, I've noticed many popular reviewers seem to gain followings more for their aesthetic presentation than their fragrance insights, which feels like it misses the point of what makes perfume truly special.
Thank you, Sarah!
All the readers can follow Sarah on Fragplace by clicking here -