Carnation smoke and green kid gloves, with retro tailoring.
Fills the room with sharp with incense-y labdanum and chrysanthemum florals out of the bottle, then settles to a bright spicy clove. 1970’s Estee Lauder moss soon creeps in over 80’s Drakkar Noir leather, but manages to stay delicate, the whole day long.
There’s a nice witchy “cool aunt” vintage vibe to it.
Sweeter on clothes than on the skin.
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This B-side came out in 1980, and layers strung out funk with a bit of new age synth.
There’s kind of an Alice-in-Wonderland trippy flower vibe with this one.
A huge puff of powdery heliotrope clouds, with a wisp of Amouage’s signature rose incense–that settles into a gorgeous neon lilac for a half hour.
If it stayed there, this might be my favorite of the Secret Garden collection, but the lilacs are overtaken by the iris-patchouli-tonka of every Lolita Lempicka flanker in existence, almost jeeringly loud, until that too fades into vanilla tea.
The base is an enjoyable purplish sweet sandalwood that lingers a few feet from the skin most of the day.
I like it, but it’s not as special as Love Tuberose.
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Here’s another trippy lilac:
Wildflowers by the seashore, and it’s gorgeous.
Opens bright, with fresh lavender and herbs, held together with Amouage’s signature spicy rose incense.
After thirty minutes or so, soft animalics drift in with dried sweet everlasting flowers and seashell ambergris, and stay in personal space for hours.
Rich salty resin sticks to the skin most of the day, and patchy cardamom on clothes forever.
So pretty.
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One of my most beloved songs. Adele turns it even angstier than the original by the Cure.
Marvelous retro ’60’s incense rose that starts out loud and aldehyde-soapy out of the bottle, then gets animalic–but it’s a purring kitty, rather than a hissing one–a few feet off the wrist, accompanied by a sneezing fit or two. After several hours the blooms fade to a lovely woody benzoin on the skin for the rest of the day.
Recommended to anyone who enjoys the classy pin-up mystique of Rive Gauche and Climat, and to cats–mine found the civet intriguing.
Powdery honey and sweet pear water.
Love Mimosa is almost sporty in its freshness out of the bottle–but the orris gives it a nice luxe creaminess that keeps it from being overtly chemical.
Loud at the start, then settles down to arms length sunny florals and laundry softener for most of the day.
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This song is pure sunshine.
Artificial cherry and Very Expensive dress shop.
The first Amouage that I don’t like, even though it’s rather similar to my cherished L.L. Amarena Whim.
The muddled amber at the bottom somehow cheapens it for me–like it’s trying too hard to be chic and popular.
(At my age, I’m trying too hard to be young and beautiful, so maybe I’d have appreciated more depth to the rose?)
Almondy floral tonka all day on the skin with a roomful of projection, and candy syrup on the cuffs all night.
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How fun is this?!
Elemental flowers in a sacred orange grove.
A burst of citrus, juicy unfiltered pulp and zest everywhere, then huge jasmine and ylang-ylang grow, so heavy and heady that they’re animalic and grubby underneath–except there’s enough lily-of-the-valley green suds hidden inside that everything fluctuates between dirty and clean, indolics vs. aldehydes, flora to fauna.
Metallic amber and earthy sandalwood try to give some support, but they’re overtaken by the chaotic florals that rise to outer space and last all night long.
Brilliant, but too much for me–Ubar’s flowers would swallow me whole and spit out my bones like tangerine seeds.
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An enormous song taken down to natural elements.
La, this is lovely.
Incense that’s been soaked in sweet wine, an antique spice chest with gilt hinges, a library of flowers pressed in rare books–
Fills the room at first, labdanum fueling soft animalics, then slowly fades to the skin. Wormwood takes the sweetness from the cloves to make them leathery and rich, but roses soften the edges, making it feminine.
Lasts all day, and even longer in the hair, vintage luxury at its best.
Emaan Zadjali is an American-Omani online sensation who calls her music “trap-soul.”
I like this smoky tune.
This one is a little bit genius.
First breath is sangria and smoke, a quick break between acts on the side door sidewalk of the theater, then sticky honey sweets to soothe the throat as the lights flicker–Places, please!–and meanders back to leather and walnut-wood seats and gaslight.
Stays close, and lasts on the skin with benzoin and incense for ages.
This is one of my favorite interludes-
There’s a high-end bridal shop dressing room vibe from this one–jasmine and chrome with infinite good taste.
Airy white flowers, with enough sandalwood on the bottom to make it shiny smooth.
The wet violet note (water violet is actually a type of aquatic primrose0 on the bottom lingers longest, into the late afternoon.
Mirror Lover is kind of shiny and smooth, too.
kira a. gold 