A big mouthful of Buttered Popcorn flavored Jellybelly beans, sticky sweet and stuck in the teeth for hours.
Later, powdered sugar and clove dusted gingerbread crumbs cling to shirt cuffs.
Fun, like that holiday party at the boss’s house that you weren’t expecting to enjoy–but I’d do better with it as a candle. It’s too sweet for me to wear on my skin.
By the Weather Girls, who brought you It’s Raining Men:
Rich hot coffee and roasted cardamom pods at arms length for an hour, slowly fading to sweet oud and herbal rose a few inches above the skin for several more.
Gorgeously unisex, but also sensual and inviting–flickering lights on a cold night, hands held in mittens, warm drinks with spice.
The solid is nice, but I want a bottle to douse myself with on the holidays– and it would work really well as a bed linen spray, too.
This song is comforting and inviting and unisex, too.
This one smells oddly like…
Toast that’s had a burnt crust scraped off, peppery citrus grilled on a cedar plank, melon on the side.
It’s like a savory gourmand–but it works, in a honeymoon morning, cabin-in-the-woods kind of way.
So Lolita Lempicka ran off and joined a coven, and came back organic and amazing.
Sugary licorice and lemonade top notes that last for hours, resin and burnt caramel all night long.
Bonfire dancing, bohemian patchouli flirting and aniseed incantations at midnight. Wakes in the morning still smelling of fairy sin on the skin.
Brash, pansexual and gorgeous.
The solid is tamed down–the gateway drug version–more secretive, the sweetness hiding in leather. I love it no less.
The soap shingle might not be the best way to test, but it’s fun. I get honey tempered with burnt cedar in the suds, and sweet resinous spice on the rinse.
I like the chocolate licorice accord, though any Lolita Lempicka Noir does it better.
Not for me, but pleasant enough to sit next to on a long bus ride.
All Good Things was the super-group everybody had heard but never heard of–they did epic rock studio work for video game soundtracks and TV shows–until their fans tracked them down and said give us albums. So they did.
If dolls could fart marshmallows, they’d smell like this.
A loud pbthpbthpbth of sweet plastic esthers–almost an artificial banana–then greasy coconut oil that dries down to diaper powder and decomposing Barbies left in the sun.
Weirdly sticky (and very synthetic for a LUSH scent) and lasts forever.
Who’da thunk Aqua’s bizarre hit could be turned this haunting and pretty?!
I tested this one in the store, and loved the cloves–it faded to spiced coffee on the skin after a few hours, but I huffed my wrist all evening–and the next day I went back for a bottle.
Maybe the weather had changed, but the woodsy notes wound up being more than I bargained for, too green, too feral-tree-sprite than the Turkish cafe I thought I was getting.
I gave it my brother, who can pull off forest faun with just a smirk.
It suits him.
I bought this at the LUSH store in Stockholm. Theses guys come from there, too.