Prada Amber is a scent that reminds me of Dior Addict, and not because they really smell similar, but they're both woodsy, sweet, resinous scents that take up a lot of space. They are voluminous, they envelop you in a wondrously dreamy cloud of fragrance ...but it's also a rippling billow of scent that can be sniffed several rooms away on the other side of the house, or on the other side of the globe, or maybe even on the moon. And I think you need to be okay with that to love these perfumes. Prada Amber is a beautiful honeyed, balsamic amber and velvety patchouli with a discordant herbal bitterness, perhaps from tarragon or bergamot, that adds interest and intrigue and keeps it just this side of cloying, while maintaining that overblown potent headiness.
With notes of nocturnal resins, smoldering incense, and cool, creeping midnight moss, Cathedral from DSH perfumes conjures visions of a lone lantern lit in a solitary tower window away from which runs a stumbling figure in a long, trailing nightdress. What is this poor, doomed creature running from, barefoot across these misty moors on a moonless night? Ghosts, phantoms, and strange sinister spirits? A brooding, turbulent love affair fraught with bitter betrayals? Fearful family curses and dreams, illusions, obsessions, murders. I mean…what isn’t she running from, right? It's not this perfume. With a resigned sigh, she turns and trudges back. Whatever else is going on in that wicked castle, she can't leave behind this haunting and quite possibly haunted fragrance. It's a Choose Your Own Gothic Romance in a bottle.
I don't believe this earnest gnome's secret to be particularly incendiary but it does present some specific imagery. Shirking garden tasks to sneak into a woodland affair he's heard rumors about, and, expecting an opulent ball, he washes behind his loamy soil-caked ears and spritzes on his little limbs a soft herbal cologne with notes of violet leaf and strange citrus. What he finds upon arrival is a fairy ring rave; intoxicated pixies and sprites flirting and frolicking across pepper moss, under disco balls reflecting the birch and cedar trees... and the mortified face of the little gnome who doesn't know how to dance.
It’s probably too early for me to write this review, as I’ve been wearing Boudoir for maybe 4 hours now, but I don’t care. It’s one of the best perfumes I’ve ever smelled, period. It starts clean and soapy, which is a great joke on the wearer. Then it suddenly develops this warmth, which is VERY satisfying and VERY inappropriate. I have a 5ml cute tiny bottle, and I will cry when it gets empty.
The freshness of this amazing fragrance just hits you in the face immediately. I get a coolness from it, a mint/eucalyptus note that is clean in that cold winters day way with the holy grass musk just elevating it all.
bliming marvellous.
Amethyst Soul is absolutely gorgeous, rich, creamy white floral which is not only Tuberose but Jasmine as well with a lovely fruity twist. I'm a huge fan of Peach and Apricot and now I'm in love with Passion fruit as well, it works so well together with those two - and with white florals. It's not so long time ago when I bought Queen of Silk (Creed) after first having a difficult time with my sample and falling later in love with it. There you can find Osmanthus which has Apricot like aroma and Passion Fruit combined with white florals. Here are Peach and Passionfruit. I have to say that after the initial shock, I am as addicted to this scent as I am to Queen of Silk. However, Amethyst Soul is clearly easier scent and it's not as complex as Queen of Silk but they do share the same dna - they are like sisters. Queen of Silk is the dignified, but boastful and difficult older sister, and Amethyst Soul is the gentler and kinder younger sister, who shines with her more innocent charm. Peach and Passion fruit are not juicy in a delicious way but like a thick nectar made of ripe fruits and those creamy white flowers are dipped in it. The base is gentle, It doesn't bring so much Ambery aromas into it and "Amber" doesn't have that kind of big role in the composition as it has for example in Topaz Glamour and Opal Secret (from the same house, reviews made). Vanilla is not overly sweet, it softens the blend beautifully and makes it feel polished. The scent is quite linear but it's very long lasting like all the perfumes from this new house. You can smell it clearly next day even on your skin. I haven't tried this in warm weather but I think it's too heavy. If you have tried Queen of Silk and find it too heavy with Patchouli, Oud, Myrrh and Frankincense I highly recommend you to try this one, if you just have a possibility. If you really love white florals with some fruits, I would even say that this is a safe blind buy. Amethyst Soul doesn't have that very unique dna of "The Fragrance" and that''s why I dare to say that it would be a safe blind buy. I wasn't prepared to want another white floral into my collection since I have had problems with Tuberose for maybe half year now. First I was thinking that it has something to do with how strong is the note of Tuberose and how strong is the scent in overall but I was wrong. Because of that I truly believed that Amethyst Soul would be my least favorite from this house but it turned out to be my favorite. I really need a bottle of this gem. Thank you for reading, I hope you liked my review. I would appreciate if you follow my IG: @ninamariah_perfumes It gives me a lot of motivation to write more. 🤗
I would believe it If you told me this was a PDM frag.
Warm spicy citrus and ginger. Some sweetness and floral, with a cosy warmth holding it up. Patchouli is prominent and spicy, but not too sharp green.
If you like Layton you'll like this.
The concept behind this scent is that you’re strolling along the beach and as the tide rolls in, the sky darkens, and the first drops of rain begin to fall, you take refuge in a nearby ice cream parlor. I would take this one step further; this is a seaside ice cream shoppe in Innsmouth, and you’re on a date with of its fish-people denizens. This is not to say that Sea of Gray is a fishy scent, but there is more than a hint of murky dankness upon initial application, and, if only for a moment, you’re swept away in scents of sand, sedge-grass, and stunted shrubbery that gives way to crumbling houses and their repellent inhabitants, and a feeling of overall disquiet and decay. This feeling passes as soon as you cross the threshold into the cool, bright interior of the frozen dessert establishment; the cheery clanking of small metal spoons gently scraping faceted sundae glasses and the soft, vanillic aroma of cold, creamy confections lulls you into a feeling of well being as you glimpse the sun peeking out from behind the clouds again, and all that’s left of your brush with the murky seaside secrets of that shadowed port town is the salt-spray on your skin. Your fishy paramour is nowhere to be seen.
Delicate musks and airy vanilla, powders and lotions; this is, at first, the scent of warmed skin after a perfumed bath. The dampness from the tub, toweled tenderly, then softly massaged with fragrant oils, and finally wrapped in a silken robe redolent of the resins and incenses that had been stored nearby. A soft, spicy clove component, along with a strangely unidentifiable grassy/woody dried floral note, round out this cozy scent that is the very definition of an evening of self-care.
Imagine the poshest, most polished home you’ve ever been invited to, recall the awe you felt traversing its passageways and the illicit delight you felt at peeking in every doorway and chest of drawers, and that may give you a minute inkling of Loggia’s appeal. Conjure the memory of those opulent wooden doors with their exacting filigree details; creamy white European linen draped on tables whose construction may be older than the country in which you’re currently living; an enormous, roaring fireplace where exotic woods crackle and blaze merrily; a silvery, bright kitchen from which the most ambrosial aromas drift, sparking visions of delicacies and confections the likes of which you, you poor sod, have never before experienced. An elegant glass snifter with a generous pour of deep amber liquid shimmers in the firelight. (You’re too young to drink that, but you’re quite certain it tastes of clover honey and sweet tea and vanilla wafers, and it will make you feel giddy and giggly and important and maybe a little sad.) Have you ever been to such a place? Have I? Or have I only read of it in books, or dreamed it?
Headmaster opens with ripe, red fruits, the nose-tickling delight of high quality pencil shavings, and a blast of sweetened, unlit pipe tobacco. I imagine the experience of being trapped, as a sullen teenager, at a posh boarding school during the summertime might smell a bit like this; all of your classmates are jetting out to Amalfi or the the French Riviera, but your mother has remarried and is honeymooning in Egypt with her new husband; her final words to you, over a rushed, static-filled overseas phone call were along the lines of, “…garble garble I’m sure you understand, love you darling garble garble see you on Christmas break…!”
There’s a skeleton staff, all of the professors are on break except the creepy one whom no one but you has ever seen (that’s weird, right?) but the cook is very much a real, solid creature–she thinks you’re a dear and makes your favorite treat every night: baked apples en flambé, the secret ingredient being a generous nip of the headmaster’s special bourbon. You savor it at the bottom of the massive staircase every night, spoon in one hand, your other hand languidly sliding along the oaken bannisters, polished smooth by the hands of all of the young ladies over the years who have attended this strange institution. The golden glow of the setting sun glimmers through the ornate stained glass set into building’s solid front doors, and between the dust motes dancing in the amber light, vague shapes begin to take form, swirling and eddying, coalescing into an almost-human shaped cloud. You rub your eyes, sleepily, and the vision is gone.
I’m not sure how to talk about this scent without sounding incredibly morbid, so I have to preface what I am going to say here by telling you that I mean it in the best possible way: Gunnerson’s Pumpkin Patch smells like digging up the corpse of your grandmother in late autumn and sharing a slice of warm pumpkin pie with her. Okay. Well. Maybe not digging up her corpse, that’s a bit extreme. Perhaps picnicking at your granny’s grave? That sounds a little nicer, right? So for starters…although I don’t recall in my lifetime that my grandma often wore Estee Lauder’s Youth Dew– that iconic vintage elixir and rich, balsamic, aldehydic, powerhouse of a perfume– I do have memories of all her jewelry carrying the phantom of its bouquet, and that’s what I smell first in Gunnerson’s Pumpkin Patch: the gauzy, gossamer ghost of its resinous amber/patchouli grandeur. Next, in anticipation of my visit, I have made a pie with the requisite can of Libby’s orange puree, sweetened it with swirls of caramel, and bedecked its glossy surface with fiery-bright maple leaves; I have carried it, still cooling in its aluminum pie pan, through the rusted cemetery gates, late autumn vegetation at my feet, the sun deeply hidden in a sky heavy with clouds. I meet no one along the path to her gravestone, and as the bittersweet spectre of her signature scent mingles with the chilled afternoon air and the buttery steam rising from the crimped pie crust, I kneel, and with quiet reverence, carefully carve two slices.
** A perfume for vetiver and patchouli lovers, Estate Vetiver is a dank, dream of a scent that is raw, and narcotic and strange. With this one I smell only what I see in my mind’s eye, which is the damp, rotting splinters of a ship wreck, portentous dark skies and piercing sea breezes, and the lost and vengeful ghosts of two young women haunting a band of rogue pirates
At first spray this is LEMON– a bright, tart, enormous face-punch of tangy yellow juice and sour, citric acid. What’s interesting is that it dissipates almost immediately and an airy sweetness emerges, which becomes a whipped cream/marshmallow note as it lingers upon the skin. Chiffon is a “dual concept fragrance” that brings together the sweet and refreshingly tart taste of Lemon Chiffon pie and the wispy beauty of chiffon fabric.
I am not generally a fan of gourmands, but I do know that Solstice Scents always hits the mark with their delectable dessert-influenced fragrances… and though perhaps Blossom Jam Tea Cakes is not–initially– my cup of tea, I can recognize that it’s a lovely portrayal of these dainty tea-time delicacies. Fluffy cakes, jammy preserves, and, later, the rich sweetness of buttercream round out this fragrance. Several hours later I catch whiffs of a plastic-y vanilla from wrist, and that is fine with me; it reminds me of sniffing the heads of my Strawberry Shortcake dolls when I was a little girl, and it’s a comforting reminder that sometime a little sweetness can be a very nice thing.
After The Rain is a misty watercolor painting of a fragrance, conjuring romantic visions of an elegant lady of the manor looking up from her ledgers to wistfully gaze out at her garden on a cool, rainy morning in early spring. Delicate, purple florals, restrained greenery, and the ghostly tracing of rainwater on a chilled glass windowpane. I wouldn’t quite call this an aquatic, but I hesitate to call to call it a floral. Can we pretend that there is a category of fragrance called “haunting breeze?”
Banded Sea Snake, while an aquatic scent, is no watery, limpid affair. And frankly, it’s less a scent and more an image that is conjured: a vibrant tide pool teeming with bright, lively, colorful creatures; a playful island breeze glides across the translucent surface of the water, and–oh, hey! Here’s a fancy cocktail with a paper umbrella! Where’d that come from? It tastes like green mosses and french-milled soap, but it’s weirdly refreshing.
Thanatopsis is a meditation upon death inspired by William Cullen Bryant’s poem, and a deep, solemn earthen scent containing pine, juniper and musk. A green-ness so lush and concentrated that it is nearly a syrup, growing in mysterious realms alongside venerable woods and breathless darkness.
Madam Moriarty, Misfortune Teller from BPAL's Carnivale Diabolique series is the dark fruit of thickly sugared plum jam, tart pomegranate & redcurrant wine, and the spiced, earthy incense of red musk and patchouli enhancing and emboldening the berries and stone fruit, rendering them that much more lush and sticky. I am not a fancier of fruity fragrances, but even I can admit that it is an objectively beautiful scent, and there's a good reason it's a cult favorite.
Dana O’Shee is reminiscent of rice pudding with a soft pour of cream on top, and/or perhaps a honeyed milk custard, and stir in some sugared marizpan… but imagine dreamy spoonfuls of all of this while a faint incense lingers in the air. Or, perhaps, envision an unlit cone of sugared milk custard incense! It sounds delicious, but don’t eat it! Tempted though ye may be.
Imagine…
You’re a Viking,
Languidly sprawling across soft, dry bracken near the Leaping flames of a birch fire. Battle scarred leather armour hangs from a sturdy larch, and high up in its branches Tiny birds are twittering, flickering, busily gathering soft stuff for lining Their nests.
The chill breeze shifts direction—a hint of seaweed reaches you, Mingling with the rising sap of the trees. Sunlight drips through the high branches Big, golden drops of warmth you’ve waited all the Brutally cold and dark winter to see again.
Your flask of spirit is near. You pour a libation on the ground, Raise it to your lips, and Rest while you can.
🔥 🌊
Wear this if you want to feel: Bold, fearless, invincible
Imagine...
You’re reclining in a smoothly finished teak chair, your
crisp linen suit still looking smart, despite the warmth of the day—
coins of sunlight dance through the branches of an ancient mulberry tree
glinting along the golden trim of your fine porcelain tea cup
where a curling wisp of steam lifts a hint of bergamot from your Earl Grey into the limpid air.
You lean forward to select a dainty sandwich from an elegant tiered stand and
some freshly picked flowers nestled in a tiny, crystal vase breathe their scent towards you.
A soft thwock of tennis ball on racquet and a
bubble of gentle laughter floats over a neatly trimmed hedge—
long skirts swish and rustle as your
companions return to the tea table.
You raise an elegant forefinger, tilting your panama to shade your eyes and
listen to them gaily chattering.
All is well.
⭐️
Wear this if you want to feel: nostalgic, refined, relaxed
Spirit by @vallensefragrance embodies all that is best about living in Northern Europe. Bright and invigorating yet never chilly or forbidding. Pine trees sway above tufts of crushed mint and trampled sappy stems.
Who know which mythical creature has just passed through this enchanted glade?
A solitary white flower basks in a beam of watery sun. The vibrance of spring’s green leaves now turned to amber and maple, tumble down into rich and fecund woodland earth. Peridot velvet moss dappled with soft musk embraces you warmly as you lift your face to the light.
You’re licking a lemon and ginger gelato while watching a Viking ship being ceremonially burned on a windswept beach.
Sacrificial herbs like mint and angelica flicker among the golden, glowing timbers as they creak and settle into mesmerising shapes.
Puffs of incense writhe in the embers—bright, warm and very mysterious.
