My sister worked for Lush for a number of years and needless to say she used to inundate me with the products most of which I really didn't care for. I loved the name of this for starters also incense is really my thing so I had high hopes. Unfortunately these were dashed when I tried it. It starts out very strong, abrasively so...to the point where my girlfriend violently swung her head back out of it's path as I put my freshly god breath soaked hand under her nose! Had that've been me I'd have said something like..."God really needs to brush his teeth/needs a breath mint..." something along those lines? but she's not as witty or quick with the one liners as I am. ;) My reaction was a little more subdued, I got a odd green spiced then to dry peppery, hay like opening which soon turns menthol/medicinal smelling...really odd! As it settles a bit you get a kind of incense like cedar scent which somehow has an absinthe vibe which I start to really enjoy. Then later this dries down to smell like every Lush product ever rolled into one....ie: The smell as you enter the Lush shop a kind of soapy thing maybe from the neroli in here? I'll give Breath of God this... it's challenging and definitely evolves though wearing to different distinct places. Not for me I don't think as the opening is too harsh and it's not an enjoyable incense for me. Although I will be trying more Lush perfumes as this is an interesting one.
Breath of God is one of those perfumes that comes brandishing its reputation before it, like some leperous figure shouting, "Unclean! Unclean!"
In actuality, it's nowhere near as fearsome as its reputation suggests. The opening is dense and heavy smoked fruit, which smells almost gourmand-like. The smoke intensifies and recedes, at times threatening to become overwhelming, but it always backs off at the last moment. Rose pokes through. There's a strong blast of vetiver. Finally, it simmers down to a lulling amber incense and stays that way for several hours. This drydown is the least interesting part of the creation: it's like a slightly less refined version of the notes you would commonly associate with a Serge Lutens.
I remember buying Lush's first commercially produced perfume, a sticky, sickly lemon thing that smelled like melted, condensed boiled sweets, and to have progressed from that to this, which is almost harshly virtuosic, is an enormous leap in both technical skills and imagination.
Oddly, this would almost almost work as a summer perfume, but the incense is ultimately a little too dense for that. Ideal for autumn and winter though.