Garage metal shop–pleasantly sour earthy concrete, metallic dust with the smoke of flash sparks from a grinder, tools with wood handles that warm up with use–and spiced gumdrops.
Nice. Leans to the calloused fingertips end of unisex.
Lasts longer and louder on clothes than on skin, and makes one nostalgic for clove cigarettes.
*
Another metal catharsis.
Rude at first, then lovely.
Opens with loud fecal spice, like something large and furry shat cardamom pods in your personal space.
Just as your eyes start to water in protest, the cedar tamps down the fumes with some nice florals, and then the softest powdery musk takes over.
The orris root makes this brilliant–not like Lolita Lempicka’s pulverized violet candy–more fae monarchy walking in the forest, raising sugary pollen that glitters in the sun.
The base woods stay sweet on the on the skin for half the day, with the musk trailing a foot above.
Unisex. Leans delicate, after the feral beginning.
*
Music for modern elven kings:
Opens with mild fruits and green violet leaf, sweetly pleasant in personal space, but five minutes later becomes a mush of flowers and spice and odd salt and enough pink pepper to be a bit headache inducing.
Coconut and vanilla woods settle to the skin after an hour or two, with no residue on clothes.
I wanted more.
Zoologist is usually polarizing, love-or-hate animalics with strong reactions. Chameleon is a bit too boring to represent a color changing lizard with a tongue twice the length of its body and eyes that move independently.
*
(I adore The Voice blind auditions.) This is a haunting cover–Boy George did not even recognize his own song at first.
Dreamcicle orange vanilla ice cream pop and Nag Champa incense, done quite well. Sweet, herbal and spicy with nice urban hippie overtones.
The solid floats in personal space with sweet citrus for a good two hours before a slow melt into the flesh. The consistency is a bit waxy but not drying–works brilliantly as a cuticle cream.
The liquid lasts forever on paper, until laundry on cotton, and a day on skin–with more of the pine and patchi base.
I love both.
Sadly, a little hard to find sometimes. LUSH is fairly upfront about world trade and the sporadic availability of natural resources–and some of their fragrances only wind up in bigger metropolitan stores.
I’ll get a back-up bottle next I see one.
*
I’ve always loved this song, and the video is a costume dream–
Pink grapefruit juice splash, that ends quickly with woody raindrops on roses.
Synthetic, safe, and unpretentious.
Eau de toilette projection with cologne longevity–good for a spritz after gym-class.
*
How cute is this girly-gay-girl song?!
Fierce out of the bottle, smoked black tea with two sugars and burning cedar shavings, loud in personal space, soft outside.
Lasts three hours before sliding into nutty vanilla and dark woods on the skin for three more.
Aggressive but interesting, with enough sweetness to be inviting.
Recommended for corporate mercenaries and apocalypse vigilantes.
*
DAG: Angharad used to call them anti-seed.
CHEEDO: Plant one and watch something die.
~ Mad Max: Fury Road
The ad copy says “warm sophisticated floral” but all I get is sandalwood and cedar musk that turn dry and dusty, like old leather.
Where have all the flowers gone?
Good for aging cowboys and folk singers, I suppose.
*
This song has been translated into thirty languages, and got Pete Seeger inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame.
This smells like a flirtation at the race track on a sunny day–with a tumbler full of Gin & Juice on the side.
Delightfully bitter citrus, and ebony black oily resins–new tires and gear oil and leather and asphalt, all inky surfaces that get a touch of sweetness as they heat up–that stay close to the skin for the afternoon.
It’s weird but fun, and I really like the dichotomy of it.
Minerals gone organic and wild and dark, but bright and warm at the same time, and strangely inviting.
Leans masculine, but I’d wear it on high heel boot days–definitely on the Want-a-Full-Bottle list, and now I’m curious about the rest of the line.
*
One part Beefeater’s gin, three parts Ruby Red grapefruit juice. Pour over good ice and garnish with lime.
There’s a very surreal vegetarian tea-party thing going on with Liliana.
Opens with pretty peaches and juicy florals, then turns to watermelon curry. After an hour or so, settles to woods and canned spinach liquid in personal space, and leaves a smudge lemon curd on the skin the next morning.
The vibe actually works, in a foodie in Fluevog witch boots kind of way.
*
Pop-goth strings crack me up–here’s one for a garden party, Bridgerton style.
Cotton-candy vodka out of the bottle that settles to Choward’s guava mints–and lasts longer than most top notes usually do, even longer than it takes for the candies to melt on the tongue (though it’s hard not to crunch them)–then eases to light flowers in personal space that slowly fade to wood musk on the skin.
Safe, pleasant, and affordable.
*
Here’s a moment of Eternity from Imelda May.
kira a. gold 