Accident a la Vanille's Almond Cake is so nightmarishly awful that I was inspired to write a haiku for it: a robitussin, and playdough and almond milk frathouse haze: DRINK, DRINK!
Absolutely love it. Good for all year round wearing.
Sour milk, sticky honey and green florals. Sounds like a revolting combo but they are blended so so well. Bee's Bliss smells so magical in the air that for a moment I almost forget how low quality their new bottles are (mine seems to always be leaking). All is forgiven though - it is just that good. Very complex and nuanced. One moment I was in love with the creamy milkiness, the next I was hit by a wave of juicy green floral that almost feels like biting into an apple or nectarine. Divine juice.
Successful blind buy. Dark, mysterious, and signature scent worthy. Blend is masterful as to create a cohesive sense of elegance and provocativeness. Niche perfumery in a designer brand. Dressed up and dark colors goes well with this.
Smells good but victory elixir smells better projects better and lasts longer
A very unique scent. At first I couldn’t tell if I liked it or not. This was in part due to the fragrance‘s synthetic opening. I would give it at least 15 minutes to dry down into something pleasant if you don’t want to smell like chemicals and paint thinner. Once it dries down it is a very nice spicy amber fragrance. Really wearable for all ages, and its unique profile separates from what everyone else is wearing. I think the unique scent profile is why I got multiple compliments the first day I wore it. It projected well with only 4 sprays and lasted 8+ hours. I wouldn’t spray any more or you risk the synthetic opening becoming too cloying. If it wasn’t for the strength of the fragrance I would say it’s wearable all year, but I think it would be a bit too overpowering in the summer. A winter special occasion staple for me whenever I want people to tell me I smell good.Also priced very well, typical of Mancera. 4/5 overall, opening is the only thing holding it back and I didn’t like the twist cap.
One of my favorites,, 10out of 10
Synthetic scent,, not my cup of tea
Masterpiece
Great dupe for Layton
Timeless
One of the worst scents I ever smelled ,,
Rotten eggs + raw fish
Teenagers choice
Timeless gem
Best de Marley summer fragrance
Copal Azur from Aedes de Venustas is a prophecy rustling on the wind, woven from copal and frankincense fumes that billow from temples guarding secrets older than gods. Meditate on these vapors of incense and antiquity, and you’ll find it’s a salty, bittersweet paradox, a wisp of sacrificial smoke laced with the unexpected sweetness of caramelized ambers. A sacred offering – a glistening, balsamic lacquered glaze burnishing a forgotten feast, a tang of something primal, both savory and sweet. A taste of eternity, a sticky fever dream forgotten ritual, clinging to your ribs long after the final swallow. The jungle itself seems to hold its breath as explorers, trespassers who believe they understand the weight of the past, navigate its sun-dappled heart toward the source of the scent. The air hangs heavy with it, a fat, golden sigh that twists through the foliage–which, wary of the intrusion, whispers not of secrets but of warnings from the dusty pages of history, hinting at unknown chapters these interlopers were never meant to be a part of. A golden condor soars overhead, its wings brushing against this intoxicating residue; it, too, is aloft on a dream of following the path of the setting sun.
Annacamento from Toskovat is a fragrance that I have a difficult time picking the notes apart, but the overall creation is one that resonates with every fiber of my being. How could it not, with the melancholic poetry of its description referencing a kid seeing the sea for the first time…or maybe an adult seeing it for the last, and the observation that “If you look back at that beauty, you’ve most likely already lost it.” This sentiment reminds me of another similar one that I loved, evoking the fleeting purity of a moment, wherein Muriel Barbery’s The Elegance of the Hedgehog, the narrator opines, “Beauty consists of its own passing, just as we reach for it.” The ingredients list citrusy elements in the form of fruits and herbs and a handful of bakery case items, alongside various woods and marine botanicals- and its overall impression is of a faint, sad sweetness that’s also somehow… not exactly fresh and not quite clean but some secret third thing that’s somehow adjacent. It’s a bittersweet dream you once had of sitting by the ocean and eating a small, cold dish of ice cream as the skies darkened to grey with the promise of rain on the horizon. As the tide rolls in, you realize that the dampness on your cheeks is not the brine of salty seaspray but streaks of drying tears, though you had no idea you were weeping or why that might have been.
Neroli Ad Astra by Pierre Guillaume Paris is a galactic striptease performed by a dazzling spectacle of radiant holographic beings. The opening is a burst of effervescent pear, the fruity flamboyant fizz of a champagne fountain in zero gravity. Showstopping neroli swoops in, opulent, heady with a teasing coolness, like a sheen of ice crystals on silvery spacesuit pasties reflecting the glitter and glare of a distant sun. There’s a green velvet gloved graze of herbaceous, rose-tinged geranium, a coy peep at jasmine’s rich floral sweetness, and the low cosmic hum of a soft, deep musk, anchoring the fragrance even as it reaches for the stars, a celestial burlesque performance amongst the glimmering expanse of forever.
Flamingo from Blackcliff is a mangrove swamp’s heart of kaleidoscopic funhouse mirrors, twisted cypress knees splashed in the lurid, tart effervescent guava-grapefruit hues of technicolor twilight. Prickly pink pepper like a shard of shattered glass, like a frenzied clutch of little claws skitters and dissolves, and a melancholic violet peeks through, its bruised purple mascara streaking through the murky water. Damp earthy tendrils of vetiver, musky ambrette, and loamy tobacco loom faintly but unsettlingly close to the surface. Flamingo is a warped sour bittersweetness unseen creatures chirping and croaking in the twilight–and I like it– but it’s more of a pink pepper whisper than the deranged fever dream intensity of pink pepper delirium I was hoping for.
Parfums de Marly’s Pegasus Exclusif, and maybe I am extrapolating a bit from the brand’s copy, promises a ride on the back of a flying stallion, a journey into a realm of “masculine virility” and “exhilarating power.” But I think we need to temper our expectations; the description would have us believe this is the fragrant equivalent of a noble winged steed, all myth and muscle, soaring through the heavens, presumably being the fantastical equine embodiment of toxic masculinity. I’m not saying that I actually wanted any of that, but instead, what we are presented with is a pastel carousel pony, all heliotrope powdered sugar, and cracked porcelain. Now, there are some things I am not up to speed on here, which is to say that Pegasus Exclusif implies the existence of a Pegasus not-so-Exclusif, and if that is the case, I haven’t smelled that yet, and maybe that one is a dusty plastic marzipan macaron as well… so I am not sure how this one differs. And unlike other reviewers, I don’t get anything complex or dark or rich out of this perfume; the promised depth and complexity and woods and spices never materialize, leaving a one-dimensional sweetness and a sense of artificial whimsy that smells more like a My Little Pony collection than the epic journey of a majestic beast.
Le Jardin Retrouve Verveine d’Été, wherein vibrant verbena radiates with lemony green herbal brightness, its zesty wistfulness infusing the air with an energy that feels almost palpable. Yet beneath this effervescent surface lies a deeper, more enigmatic presence. Oakmoss evokes secluded corners of a vast garden, its aromatic notes of lavender bitters and musky hay adding an unexpected depth that anchors the composition. There’s a timeless quality to this fragrance; one breath brings the crisp clarity of herbs warmed by morning sun; the next envelops you in the cool shade of a venerable tree, standing sentinel over manicured paths and wild patches alike. The interplay between the soaring verbena and grounded oakmoss creates a scent that seems to breathe with you, expanding and contracting, always maintaining that lovely, delicate tension between levity and gravitas. This is only the second fragrance I’ve tried from Le Jardin Retrouvé. In contrast to Citron Boboli’s sorcery which thrives at the heart of summer, Verveine d’Été offers a more temperate enchantment, a spell for all seasons – an olfactory talisman to carry a piece of that perfect, verdant morning with you always, no matter the hour or weather.
Almost done with the bottle. Bought it at a Macy’s for full price. Will admit, didn’t like it at first and never wore it. Idk what happened after, but I started wearing it again and fell in love. I wish this was my natural musk, I used to wear this everywhere and whenever, but I try not to now since it’s almost finished. Favorite fragrance for sure. The smell? I would say more on the Lavender size? I’m not a notorious note man but yea.
