I read a review of this that described it as "Briney olives with a soft sour sandalwood” and I immediately sped down to my local perfumery to check it out because I HAD to know if it could really smell like briney olives. The answer is: yes, absolutely, this perfume opens up with a powerful blast of ripe, resinous, almost tarry black olive, which soon blends with spicy green fig leaf and herbal, gin-and-tonic juniper before easing into a veritable logpile of sun-beaten woods (guaicwood, birch, cedar) and a warm bed of dry, aromatic grasses (vetiver, papyrus, hay). The vibe is sweet, fresh, and languorous, braced with the front-loaded saltiness of the olive and fading into a smoky, creamy, leathery finish (myrrh, frankincense, sandalwood oil). It really feels like a whole story, perhaps the dreamy Tuscan late-afternoon suggested by the description: a frolic in the countryside; a roll in the hay; a few too many cocktails during a seaside rendezvous. I love the complexity of the salty, vegetal brine, the damp greenness, and earthy smokiness. It’s a dirty, rough-around-the-edges fragrance that’s full of layers, endlessly interesting. Like a bowl of particularly pungent olives, this isn’t for everyone or for all occasions, but it's way up my alley. I’m going to be wearing my sample a bunch and I could definitely imagine getting a bottle. No idea what the name is supposed to mean, though.