Ebene Fume with its incandescent glowing cacophony of sunset woods majesty, spider-pronged and prickly tines of moody-fiery black pepper, and the mystical ambiguity of palo santo’s piney/licorice/camphor vibe is a brazenly beautiful scent, perilously intense, and all consuming. Smoky, regal, and fearsome, a tiger queen who set her kingdom on fire rather than see it fall, the incense burned on an altar of protection, invoking darksome saints with flaming swords. Desperate, dangerous prayers granted in gorgeous and terrible ways.
Spirit Lamp by DS& Durga Spirit Lamp is a fragrance that evokes a forgotten corner of a botanical garden next to the highway, where a spirit of untamed wilderness thrives, unchecked and unexpectedly in a slick puddle of illicitly dumped motor oil. The initial impression is a thick, oily green of some swampy primordial reed, the smell of an extinct past that’s closer than we often care to think, its roots tangled in the earth, its leaves exuding an unctuous herbal musk. This greenness isn't fresh and invigorating; it's greasy, thick, almost suffocating. As the scent unfolds, a metallic tang emerges, the scent of rust or singed copper, an aggressively hotwired Dodge Charger counterpoint to the glossy, verdant heart. It's a scent that evokes anachronistic images of forgotten rituals and arcane practices, real prehistoric Fast & Furious living your life one-quarter mile at a time shit, a potent concoction brewed in the junkyard-slash-abandoned car lot cauldron of nature's darkest recesses.
While the notes listed for Apocalypstick, violet, rose, mint, (I thought I saw macadamia listed somewhere?) sound like a pleasant enough combination, what the perfume smells like to me is a village of small children infected with a vast malevolence of pure evil. This cloying candied floral doesn’t just tiptoe on the precipice of sweetness and decay; it’s not just a playful saccharine innocence masking a sinister undercurrent of rot. It is an immediate and overwhelming assault of viciously poisoned sugarplums stuffed with razorblades served to you by sticky fingers and pale faces with sharp teeth. It lingers, sickening on the skin like a toxic premonition, like a perpetual stain, an indelible mark of repulsion.
“THE YEAR WAS 2081, and everybody was finally equal. They weren't only equal before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. Nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else.” What perfume were they wearing? Kurt Vonnegut Jr. never really got into that in his satirical dystopian science-fiction short story “Harrison Bergeron,” but I suspect it was Them, by Neandertal, a fragrance distilled to its most minimal, stripped-down DNA. A radical exercise in simplicity, a deliberate erasure of complexity. It’s very essence, a complete and total absence. A void, a vacuum, a nothingness. Olfactory egalitarianism in a bottle, where no note dominates, not a single note is even discernable. Wear it not to make a statement, but to embrace the scent of unadorned equilibrium—a radical olfactory utopia where no note rises above the others, and every aromatic expression is rendered equally silent.
Tell Me About The Forest (You Once Called Home)is fir and spruce and juniper and is an immediate love. I have a huge fondness for fairy-tale forest fragrances, but so many of them are sticky, a fairy forest syrup that you measure a bar spoon into for some sort of Hansel and Gretel cocktail. This doesn’t have that treacly quality; it’s…dryer? Maybe a bit bitter. I feel like it’s a bit of a hermit-ascetic with an acerbic wit and a love of irony. It reminds me of dense, darkened thickets in the midnight woodland art of Tin Can Forest.
Dirty Amber is a warrior queen's anthem, a grit-kissed growl of bergamot and juniper, teeth bared against the dawn. Geranium, wild and bruised, clings to cracked leather armor, frankincense, a smoldering altar to forgotten gods, hangs heavy, the acrid bite of cassia bark a whispered curse upon her foes. Tonka's honeyed siren song of stolen pleasures is cloaked by a bitter, swirling fog of labdanum and myrrh. Cypress and patchouli, the musk of untamed forests, bind her to the earth, roots digging deep into forgotten bones of empires. And then, the heart of the storm erupts: fossilized amber, a guttural roar, a scourge of scorched starlight trapped in the golden opulence of sun-baked tears. The fragrance of a lineage steeped in fire, a war cry echoing through ages, of monsters fallen and kingdoms claimed. Dirty Amber is the scent of a Frazetta heroine, eyes blazing with the wild light of a thousand moons, a blade poised at the throat of destiny. This is beauty that bleeds, stains your skin, marks your bones, and etches its story into the air you breathe.
Not all observatories are built of steel and glass. Some are carved from ancient wood and wisdom, where mechanical planets trace their paths through the perpetual twilight of desert mysteries. Here in the thin mountain air, elevation sharpens the senses: first the bright bite of altitude, then the way spices catch in the throat like distant light. Time dissolves in the dark. What begins as calculation—the precise geometry of pepper's gentle ignition and austere cedarwood gears—softens into something warmer, more profound. Each celestial model points inward, finding its own true north in bitter cocoa and burnished amber. Brass orbits wheel overhead at the angle of eternity while censers trace their own paths below, drawing cosmic dust and incense into the undertow of old magics. In the smoke and spice of these shadowed alignments, the machinery of night turns ever inward.
Finally! After all my searching I have come across a Zoologist fragrance I really enjoy. I’ve spent a long time feeling as though this house wasn’t for me, constantly being disappointed by the hyped up releases - but why isn’t this being talked about more? I suppose because it’s a rather old fashioned, classical smelling scent. A gorgeously deep crimson rose is the star here, it doesn’t go as far as jammy but it’s dense and unashamed to make itself overtly known. Combined with the sweet juiciness of plum blossom and salty ambergris, this is then tempered by the delicate powdery facets of violet, and the creamy touch of oakmoss in the base. It’s gorgeous, I really wasn’t going into this expecting to enjoy it so much. I’m usually quite picky about my rose fragrances so for me to give this such high praise really says a lot, especially from a house that I typically don’t like. I will definitely consider picking this up at some point.
If I were to describe Blu Indaco in one word it would be bland - this is a scent with no substance or character, a signature scent for a spineless yes-man. I’ve found a similar pattern in other Giardini fragrances, they seem to have a running theme of excessive simplicity. It’s a sort of soapy, musky almond-thing. The bergamot, frangipani and pink pepper provide this sharp freshness which has a bit of a harsh tone to it, which is then bolstered by an overwhelming amount of scratchy synthetic musks and ambroxan. At the heart lies creamy almond and sweet vanilla, which struggles to survive under the musks. It’s not unpleasant, it’s not a scrubber and it’s not nasty to wear - it just leaves me unsatisfied. There’s not depth, no interest and no ingenuity here; it’s just another lazy cash grab release which the masses will no doubt enjoy.
I should preface this by saying that I love tuberose, a good tuberose would rank among one of my favourite smells on the planet. Unfortunately, it’s a very temperamental note, one which very commonly turns sour and unpleasant in the wrong hands - such is the case here. Tuberose is at the front and centre of the scent, but it’s overly thick, dense and dry. Combined with the ylang and particularly the rosewood and vanilla, the end result is far too sweet and becomes sickly. Peach and a hint of coconut take this a step further until it becomes wholly unpleasant. Overall, I really dislike it. This simply doesn’t smell like a well put together fragrance - it comes across messy and abrasive, and quite frankly it smells cheap. This is not a tuberose I could ever bring myself to wear.
Imagination receives hype upon hype, with many regarding it as one of the best citrus scents on the market. I don’t know if I’d go quite that far, but I can’t deny this smells absolutely brilliant. It’s annoyingly simple, I feel like I shouldn’t love it the way I do, and yet there’s something addictive about it. A wash of clean, zingy citruses takes centre stage, complimented by a sharp ginger. However, to avoid this, gentle softening wafts of soapy neroli and dry tea help to dampen the effects of the citrus, giving the scent an almost delicately creamy facet. I don’t really need to mention the performance either, it’s a well known fact that this performs like a dream considering it’s a citrus scent. Overall, Imagination sort of does everything you’d want a luxury fragrance to achieve. It smells classy, refined, inviting and lasts all day. Despite its simplicity, I really want to own a bottle of this for those hot summer days when you just need something refreshing.
Neroli is already not a favourite note of mine, so I didn’t head into this with high expectations. Unfortunately Neroli Nasimba sunk even lower than this expectations, it’s simply an unpleasant scent. The idea on paper sounds great, amazingly unique and bold in its composition, but the end result is just disappointing. The neroli in here isn’t actually too bad, that’s not where my issue lies. The problem starts with the orange blossom, it’s so overdone that it becomes almost scratchy and far too thick, whilst the pink pepper seems to amplify this. Then in comes the leather, which is brave to combine with white florals and difficult to do right, which here it has not succeeded. It’s a shame really, I wanted to like this scent but I just can’t get along with it unfortunately. If you’re a lover of neroli I can’t imagine this is going to blow you away, it certainly left me feeling a little bit underwhelmed.
Rose SaltifOlia is a gorgeously unique take on rose, with a strong Mediterranean feel to it with those gentle salty-marine facets pushing through. I enjoy it quite a lot actually, but I’m just unsure if I would continue to remain so fond of it once I’d worn it a few times and the novelty had worn off. The rose itself is beautifully delicate, gentle and airy as though the scent of a nearby rose bush was drifting through the breeze on a Mediterranean coastline. The salty marine accord is equally as gorgeous, and perfectly tamed so as to not overpower the rose, with subtle hints of a seaweed accord to deepen this aquatic feel. As I said, it’s gorgeous. I will thoroughly enjoy wearing my sample during the summer, and I may end up getting a bottle of the price is right, but for now it’s something I’m happy to have experienced but don’t feel the need to add it to my collection.
Ingredients 07/2012 is a remarkably interesting and abstract take on perfume, with the composition remaining a secret to allow each individual to form their own relationship and understanding of the scent. I love the idea, and I really enjoy the way it smells too, usually I’m not the biggest fan of Crivelli but this is great. I do pick up on the synthetic plasticky/metallic accord that others are describing, but it’s not overpowering. From here, I’m mainly picking up on a lot of saffron and patchouli - it’s this contrast between something dark and earthy, alongside this rich, metallic sweetness. It also seems very woody, perhaps with a lot of cedar, mixed in with a large array of other stuff which to be honest is too difficult to pick out. If I had to compare it to something, the combination of saffron and patchouli ever so slightly reminds me of Secret Tryst by Fragrance du Bois. However, the metallic nature of this scent renders it significantly different at the same time. I like it, not sure I’ll be buying it though.
Alpona is one of the crowning jewels of Caron, yet one that has been lost to time and seems to be under appreciated - perhaps because it’s so damn hard to find nowadays. It’s an interestingly aromatic and resinous take on a classical Jasmine-centric chypre, and oh my does it execute it perfectly. I’m surprised the jasmine note isn’t ranked higher in terms of prominence, it’s the star of the show for me. I smell a very similar jasmine to that used in Jean Patou’s Joy, which rose to huge success after its release just 10 years before this. Alongside that is an array of bitter citrus, soft woods and a hefty amount of oakmoss. The aromatic, resinous facets are coming from the use of thyme and myrrh, which are gentle but present just enough to turn this into something completely unique. I adore this scent. Someone special was very kind enough to send me a decant from their bottle, and I’ve fallen head over heels for it since. This is the pinnacle of perfumery, Ernest Daltroff at his best, there will never be another like Alpona.
Simple but not boorish, easygoing with a herbal note for a Saturday meeting with friends for coffee.
BDK tabac rose on steroids with a very juicy, wet dollop of rose
Opens as a lovely peppery rose, and dries into a woody acquatic floral. A very light damp earthy Petrichor supports.
After some hours the darkness of the aquatic settles and the rose appears again.
Lovely scent, akin to a lighter ADP with more floral.
A leather jacket, a lover's embrace, hot breath on your skin.
Challenging/terrible opening. I like ‘clean’ outrageously soapy and bracing effects, white musk and so forth so if you’re offending me with similar then it must be bad. I feel the style of this is ‘Italian’ in a loose sense. Spirit is too much. It’s unpleasant. Cool and mildly green, I want to say geranium but I like geranium. For 15-20 minutes or so. Then it starts to get a sort of floracy which I can start to get behind, then in the deep, deep, drydown (many hours later) it becomes something I’d actively say I enjoy. A real tale of two halves, which unfortunately for me equates to a bad/not to my taste perfume. Again this seems crude like source, I’d actually say sun is probably the most refined but they all come off indy, and that’s because they are! But… I crave more for in excess of 200 quid a bottle.
I got the samples of these which refreshingly (to some annoyingly) don’t have any notes or materials listed. At first (and throughout actually) this is a very femme tropical fruity musk smelling fragrance, quite lovely but I feel a little too far out of my comfort zone. After twenty minutes or so it settles and I smell a kind of very ‘pink’ tuberose smell. It’s quite a lovely thing really but not to my taste.
So this composition, predominantly smells of frankinsense and benzoin to me. Not in the way that you might think, sharply sweet, but earthy and ‘churchy’ like an Avignon type thing…nor is it an ‘amber’ as such, a world apart from that infact. This is not sharp at all but I think if you’re familiar with these kinds of resin materials you’ll recognise this non atypical signature. The rest is almost a creamy, hand cream, nutty vetiver, with an excellent lightly smoky effect layered in. In many ways this feels indy and clumpy, not very refined, yet its complexity and prominent naturalism in its materials make me inherently really like it. I’m morbidly interested in its facets and it wears really nicely but it’s far from a pretty or elegant perfume. Noticed it goes on in a kind of slick of grease on my skin, which I don’t like but generally it’s better than anything I could ever make, yet it’s still reminscent of my own naive, perfumery fumblings.
Mysterious, sensual, sexy are some of the adjectives which come to my mind when wearing this unique Rose perfume. I don't know any scent that is similar to this. It stands out as well from Rosinen's style, which usually keeps scents on the bright or luminous side, being much darker in it’s base as well as the other notes in overall (some other darker scents are Le Snob N° I and Ballerina N°3). The notes that give it a special flavor are Plum in the opening, Cumin and Ylang-Ylang in the heart and Amber in the base. Plum gives the fragrance a sweet touch and personally I think that the fruits in more complex fragrance structures bring a seductive, sophisticated and polished feeling. Some of my favorite fruits used like this are Plum, Peach, Mango and Cherry. There are countless fragrances where these fruits play a very important role. Even if they are not realistically juicy, they are sophisticated with a luxurious fruity sweetness in the background. Cumin is known to be a difficult note for some and in this fragrance it is no exception. It’s not pungent, bitter or sour here but it can resemble sweat on some skin types because even on my “easy” skin I can sense it, but it remains very refined and brings just the right amount of intimate, sensual animalic nuances to the scent. Nowadays it's quite common to use Cumin to create these kind of aromas without using animalics but it's smells very different though. I like it and I don't have any difficulties with it. Ylang-Ylang on the other hand adds the sweetness to aura which Plum started, like the richness in overall as well. Finally, Amber makes the fragrance Oriental with its resinous charasteristics and Labdanum is mentioned separately even if it’s mostly included in “Amber” note creating the deepness to the blend. Labdanum is not leathery here, at least not on my skin nor on my husband's skin. This set of notes is wonderfully tied together by the most gorgeous, dark and powdery Rose which from start to finish is intoxicating with its sensuality and beauty. The scent is utterly warm, velvety smooth and even cozy in the dry down. 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. 🤗
A really interesting scent.
Listed as a modern vetiver, on first spray its chemistry does give you a warm circuits smell.
Notes lead gourmand sounding but doesn't come across that way.
Opening is green, herbal and aromaric, dry, and a very subtle sweet creaminess which id put down to the vanilla.
I think I'm still learning the world of Vetivers but this is certainly an Interesting one.
