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juushikaSOPHIA (Discontinued, GC: Excolo)
A solemn, deeply profound draught of lavender, soft musks, star jasmine, black rose, delphinium, and gentle spice.
In the vial: Lavender, but not the herbal or dry lavender I'm used to—there's something almost ... minty? clean aquatic? maybe light citrus? here. In the background, a bare hint of musk/spice.
On me: A fougère as it hits the skin: clean and aquatic lavender, perfumey but not feminine. The scent rounds out in drydown, with the other florals peaking their heads up and just a hint of musky spice to ground the scent. And then there was rose. Most rose goes screaming single note on my skin; this black rose is a bit deeper and doesn't have the fleshy tropical sharpness of red rose at its worst, indeed it might almost be pleasant--but it crowds out all the other notes and I get just rose rose rose from the five-minute mark onward.
Verdict: As I don't think Sophia is supposed to be rose rose rose, and as I've no need of another oil that's just rose rose rose (even if this is a better rose than usual, and piques some casual interest in a well-rounded black rose scent—if such a thing could exist on my skin), this obviously isn't for me. I'll scrub it off and rehome my imp.
NOSTRUM REMEDIUM (GC, Doc Constantine's Pharmacopoeia)
Black tea leaf, invigorating wasabi extract, sweetened by honey.
In the vial: A fairly generic masculine soap. The wasabi influence is there, but hardly as spicy as I was expecting.
On me: During the drydown, the soapiness dissipates and the spiciness comes out. In the throw, this is lovely but hard to describe: it's spicy, dry, semi-powdery but not stodgy, reminding me more of wasabi powder than fresh wasabi; it smells almost like the autumn leaves in A Blade of Grass, but with a lighter/greener hue. It's gorgeous but a touch elusive. At skin level, the spice and honey are both more obvious: the spice almost pricks the nose, but the honey smooths it; it's a mild, pale honey, filling out the scent but fairly subtle in its own right, and in no way sweet or thick. Occasional hints of cologne/soap/generic light man-smell linger, but in bulk this is spice and honey. With any other spice it'd be pretty traditional, but wasabi is cleaner, greener, and wholly original. I don't recognize any tea, but it's not a note I'm good at picking out. Scent-color and -texture both remind me of the pale powdery green of (dyed) wasabi powder; throw and wear-length are both moderate to low.
Verdict: Nostrum Remedium is not quite what I was expecting from the description, and (thank goodness) morphs dramatically from vial to skin, but I think I like it. It's unique without being big and bold, warm and spicy while maintaining a sparse cleanliness, and subtle without being tame. I'm glad I had the chance to try it—I think it's a scent that has to be smelled, not described. That said, I don't think it's enough my style that I need it.
BEWITCHED (GC, Bewitching Brews)
Deep, luscious green and berry scents that evoke images of woodland witchcraft and the raw power of nature: blackberry, sage, green tea, wild berries and dark musk.
In the vial: Dark, and a bit herbal, with a berry chaser. It's an organic scent, but refined--very much a perfume.
On me: The fruitiness expands when it hits the skin, and for a little while this comes together perfectly, each note fleshed out but the sum beautifully melded and balanced. It'd a dark, woodsy, rich berry scent—the greenery adds shade and depth instead of sharpness, and there's no medicinal herbiness; the musk adds depth, too, tempering the berry so that it doesn't go candy-sweet. And that berry juicy red berry is bold and beautiful beneath its shades. The scent is full-bodied but not cloying, instead achieving its depth via darkness. Unfortunately, as it wears the berry continues to amp, ending up a little too strong with just a touch of that back of the throat sugar-sharpness. Instead of dark woodsy rich berry this becomes berry with a hint of woods, and more's the pity. Scent-color is a smokey red with a green shift; throw is strong without being overpowering, and wear-length is impressive: the scent lasts twelve hours easy, and whiffs of it lingers even longer.
Verdict: It's almost a pity that goes through a perfectly balanced stage before the berry gets too loud, because that balance is divine—powerful but not cloying, unique, vivid, shadowed, and gorgeous. So while Bewitched's final stage is decent and I applaud its impressive longevity, it's a disappointment by comparison. The vivid berry hidden in the briars of the wood is a jewel of a scent; berry with a touch of darkness is too familiar, and not nearly as desirable. I like it well enough, but not half as much as I like what this scent could be and what it briefly is; all said, no, I don't need it.
'TIS THE VOICE OF THE LOBSTER (GC, Mad Tea Party)
A woody, musky-weird base glooping over with blackberry preserves, a twist of mandarin, strawberry juice, pulverized watermelon, and a handful of smushed gardenia petals.
A frimp from the Lab which I'd not have tried any other way—mixed fruits aren't my thing.
In the vial: Fruit on top, and that woody, musky-weird base down below.
On me: Unique fruity and gardenia perfumey. The fruit is mixed but not indistinct—it's primarily watermelon but I get a hint of mandarin's brightness and a bit more blackberry over time, and it's colorful but not overpoweringly sweet or bright. The gardenia come and goes, and it caries with it an airiness that I often get from florals. I don't get much of the base, which (especially when the gardenia is present) makes the scent a smidgen ungrounded, but I think the lack of "musky-weird"ness benefits the scent. This is a summery, fruity (with a touch of floral) scent that has more character than I usually get from that scent family: watermelon is a unique base, the mixed fruits provide variety, and like most of the Mad Tea Party scents this has plenty of character.
Verdict: I generally dislike fruity florals, but 'Tis the Voice of the Lobster is unique enough that I find it surprisingly pleasant and successful. Nonetheless, it's not even remotely my style. I washed it off and won't keep it, but I wouldn't mind smelling it one someone else.
BLACK PEARL (GC, Bewitching Brews)
Evocative of the sea's unplumbed mysteries. Gentle and lovely, but menacing and profound. Coconut, Florentine iris, hazelnut and opalescent white musk.
In the vial: A sweetish woody floral, a touch powdery around the edges, and perhaps there's some fruit in there—that's probably the coconut.
On me: The scent grows muskier when it hits the skin—it's a pale, light musk, but adds body and texture to the other notes. There's a flash of coconut, but the scent rounds out within a few minutes into a fuzzy, gentle, but surprisingly full-bodied woodiness. There's a hint of many other things—a touch of floral and coconut flesh, and of pale furry muskiness—but you have to seek those out; the whole of the scent is a smooth, brown, gently fuzzy woodiness; it's warm and slightly shadowed, overwhelming on no fronts but still possessing a distinct sense of self. Wear-length is only moderate, though, and there's an overall subdued sense to the scent and its throw.
Verdict: I think it bothers me, a little, when a scent is this hard to pin down—I can appreciate the subtlety, but for personal wear I prefer a scent I can grasp on to. On that note, Black Pearl is intriguing and has a surprisingly strong character for something so unusual and subdued, but some of its quietude makes me nervous. It's one I'll have to test again before I know quite what I think of it, but this is a good start and an interesting experiment.
A solemn, deeply profound draught of lavender, soft musks, star jasmine, black rose, delphinium, and gentle spice.
In the vial: Lavender, but not the herbal or dry lavender I'm used to—there's something almost ... minty? clean aquatic? maybe light citrus? here. In the background, a bare hint of musk/spice.
On me: A fougère as it hits the skin: clean and aquatic lavender, perfumey but not feminine. The scent rounds out in drydown, with the other florals peaking their heads up and just a hint of musky spice to ground the scent. And then there was rose. Most rose goes screaming single note on my skin; this black rose is a bit deeper and doesn't have the fleshy tropical sharpness of red rose at its worst, indeed it might almost be pleasant--but it crowds out all the other notes and I get just rose rose rose from the five-minute mark onward.
Verdict: As I don't think Sophia is supposed to be rose rose rose, and as I've no need of another oil that's just rose rose rose (even if this is a better rose than usual, and piques some casual interest in a well-rounded black rose scent—if such a thing could exist on my skin), this obviously isn't for me. I'll scrub it off and rehome my imp.
NOSTRUM REMEDIUM (GC, Doc Constantine's Pharmacopoeia)
Black tea leaf, invigorating wasabi extract, sweetened by honey.
In the vial: A fairly generic masculine soap. The wasabi influence is there, but hardly as spicy as I was expecting.
On me: During the drydown, the soapiness dissipates and the spiciness comes out. In the throw, this is lovely but hard to describe: it's spicy, dry, semi-powdery but not stodgy, reminding me more of wasabi powder than fresh wasabi; it smells almost like the autumn leaves in A Blade of Grass, but with a lighter/greener hue. It's gorgeous but a touch elusive. At skin level, the spice and honey are both more obvious: the spice almost pricks the nose, but the honey smooths it; it's a mild, pale honey, filling out the scent but fairly subtle in its own right, and in no way sweet or thick. Occasional hints of cologne/soap/generic light man-smell linger, but in bulk this is spice and honey. With any other spice it'd be pretty traditional, but wasabi is cleaner, greener, and wholly original. I don't recognize any tea, but it's not a note I'm good at picking out. Scent-color and -texture both remind me of the pale powdery green of (dyed) wasabi powder; throw and wear-length are both moderate to low.
Verdict: Nostrum Remedium is not quite what I was expecting from the description, and (thank goodness) morphs dramatically from vial to skin, but I think I like it. It's unique without being big and bold, warm and spicy while maintaining a sparse cleanliness, and subtle without being tame. I'm glad I had the chance to try it—I think it's a scent that has to be smelled, not described. That said, I don't think it's enough my style that I need it.
BEWITCHED (GC, Bewitching Brews)
Deep, luscious green and berry scents that evoke images of woodland witchcraft and the raw power of nature: blackberry, sage, green tea, wild berries and dark musk.
In the vial: Dark, and a bit herbal, with a berry chaser. It's an organic scent, but refined--very much a perfume.
On me: The fruitiness expands when it hits the skin, and for a little while this comes together perfectly, each note fleshed out but the sum beautifully melded and balanced. It'd a dark, woodsy, rich berry scent—the greenery adds shade and depth instead of sharpness, and there's no medicinal herbiness; the musk adds depth, too, tempering the berry so that it doesn't go candy-sweet. And that berry juicy red berry is bold and beautiful beneath its shades. The scent is full-bodied but not cloying, instead achieving its depth via darkness. Unfortunately, as it wears the berry continues to amp, ending up a little too strong with just a touch of that back of the throat sugar-sharpness. Instead of dark woodsy rich berry this becomes berry with a hint of woods, and more's the pity. Scent-color is a smokey red with a green shift; throw is strong without being overpowering, and wear-length is impressive: the scent lasts twelve hours easy, and whiffs of it lingers even longer.
Verdict: It's almost a pity that goes through a perfectly balanced stage before the berry gets too loud, because that balance is divine—powerful but not cloying, unique, vivid, shadowed, and gorgeous. So while Bewitched's final stage is decent and I applaud its impressive longevity, it's a disappointment by comparison. The vivid berry hidden in the briars of the wood is a jewel of a scent; berry with a touch of darkness is too familiar, and not nearly as desirable. I like it well enough, but not half as much as I like what this scent could be and what it briefly is; all said, no, I don't need it.
'TIS THE VOICE OF THE LOBSTER (GC, Mad Tea Party)
A woody, musky-weird base glooping over with blackberry preserves, a twist of mandarin, strawberry juice, pulverized watermelon, and a handful of smushed gardenia petals.
A frimp from the Lab which I'd not have tried any other way—mixed fruits aren't my thing.
In the vial: Fruit on top, and that woody, musky-weird base down below.
On me: Unique fruity and gardenia perfumey. The fruit is mixed but not indistinct—it's primarily watermelon but I get a hint of mandarin's brightness and a bit more blackberry over time, and it's colorful but not overpoweringly sweet or bright. The gardenia come and goes, and it caries with it an airiness that I often get from florals. I don't get much of the base, which (especially when the gardenia is present) makes the scent a smidgen ungrounded, but I think the lack of "musky-weird"ness benefits the scent. This is a summery, fruity (with a touch of floral) scent that has more character than I usually get from that scent family: watermelon is a unique base, the mixed fruits provide variety, and like most of the Mad Tea Party scents this has plenty of character.
Verdict: I generally dislike fruity florals, but 'Tis the Voice of the Lobster is unique enough that I find it surprisingly pleasant and successful. Nonetheless, it's not even remotely my style. I washed it off and won't keep it, but I wouldn't mind smelling it one someone else.
BLACK PEARL (GC, Bewitching Brews)
Evocative of the sea's unplumbed mysteries. Gentle and lovely, but menacing and profound. Coconut, Florentine iris, hazelnut and opalescent white musk.
In the vial: A sweetish woody floral, a touch powdery around the edges, and perhaps there's some fruit in there—that's probably the coconut.
On me: The scent grows muskier when it hits the skin—it's a pale, light musk, but adds body and texture to the other notes. There's a flash of coconut, but the scent rounds out within a few minutes into a fuzzy, gentle, but surprisingly full-bodied woodiness. There's a hint of many other things—a touch of floral and coconut flesh, and of pale furry muskiness—but you have to seek those out; the whole of the scent is a smooth, brown, gently fuzzy woodiness; it's warm and slightly shadowed, overwhelming on no fronts but still possessing a distinct sense of self. Wear-length is only moderate, though, and there's an overall subdued sense to the scent and its throw.
Verdict: I think it bothers me, a little, when a scent is this hard to pin down—I can appreciate the subtlety, but for personal wear I prefer a scent I can grasp on to. On that note, Black Pearl is intriguing and has a surprisingly strong character for something so unusual and subdued, but some of its quietude makes me nervous. It's one I'll have to test again before I know quite what I think of it, but this is a good start and an interesting experiment.
