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The Elemental Fragrance Review

The Elemental Fragrance // Sample Set Circa 2020

Regretfully, I have let my sample set by The Elemental Fragrance languish for way too long. Sure, I post in a really random order and at the mercy of my whims. But this is not to say any one brand is better than another. So though I’ve had these samples for YEARS(!) I have long wanted to feature them. And so I shall!

Unfortunately there’s no way of knowing what scents have been reformulated or renamed in these past few years. Forgive me in advance for any discrepancies.

Ambiguous 3/10

This is both sweet and green… There’s a somewhat vegetal bitterness in this, as if cannabis was having a field day with some rhubarb. This is not a scent I could envision wearing, but it would certainly turn heads.

Mogul 4/10

There also appears to be this strange cannabis quality to Mogul as well. Although mixed with a light leather? I feel like I’m in some alternate universe where this one note is chasing me throughout these fragrances. Maybe this is my bad for letting the samples sit way too long, but third time’s the charm?

Abstract Mortals 5/10

I swear the note is still lurking in here somewhere, but thankfully it is so subdued that I can enjoy other qualities of this fragrance. Abstract Mortals has a nice milky sweetness going on. I can’t tell if this is cashmeran or a nice skin musk, but it’s a perfectly serviceable skin scent.

Rose of the Woods 7.5/10

Lovely rose and oud scent, mixed with a juicy berry note. There’s nothing particularly offensive or scary about the oud, and the scent doesn’t blast your intentions from a football field away. This scent is perfectly unisex in my opinion. I’d say if you’re looking to support the brand, this is my top choice so far!

The Grands 8/10

This scent caught my attention because it didn’t seem to play by any convention. It opened with a waft of vanilla extract, but then settled into something a little more peppery and dry. By doing so it skirts normative gender presentation of vanilla. The name, The Grands, also seems to imply that the entire Grand family can wear this. 

Amorous 8/10

Like fruit punch but viewed through semi-opaque glass. And for that I am grateful. Everyone say Thank you The Elemental Fragrances! Indeed, a light, fruity cherry-adjacent confection without veering in a too powdery or too saccharine direction. Another nice offering from the house!

Leather Boy 6/10

With a name like leather boy I expect this to be fairly bombastic. I know you’re all wringing your hands after I just extolled the virtues of something as inoffensive as a thin patina of fruit juice. But leather boy! What a name! Obviously we have leather going on. But it’s kind of an old “this leather watch band has been sitting in my attic for some time” kind of vibe.

All in all, not bad! I’d certainly be curious to see how things have changed for the house over time. But in a way I’m glad to have a time capsule of a brand’s earlier days. It’s impressive to see the wheels turn in an entrepreneur’s head and heart.

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Brown Girl Jane // Discovery Set // Individual Reviews Below

Brown Girl Jane is, by all accounts, #thatgirl for many in the #blackownedfragrance space. I’d be lying if I didn’t mention that the cleanliness of the overall brand design and vision didn’t elevate it to the next level. That was a lot of “didn’t” usage. Unlike some brands that may smell overly synthetic, or some that go a little too avant garde in the begin - Brown Girl Jane did stick in the lane of nice scents that don’t offend and delivered well.

Bahia // 6.5/10

We lived, laughed, and loved with gardenia notes… We really did. I love white florals, all except GARDENIA. This is no fault of the brand, of course, but gardenia always strikes me as just somewhat stomach turning unless dosed correctly. Bahia is far from the most offensive in this respect. It doesn’t screech and mercifully the gardenia fades into the background as a clean musk takes over. If I were to reach for a gardenia scent that (shockingly) stays away from the stomach churning waxiness that I don’t love about most modern gardenia scents, I’d stick with Gardenia Petale by Van Cleef, personally.

Casablanca // 6/10

Again, this is not an offensive scent. It starts off with an interesting combination of cardamom and marshmallow, but it dries down so quickly to a somewhat tart (think the mouthwatering quality of Ombre Leather) and powdery sweetness. It’s this linearity that I think I would find cloying throughout the day, sadly.

Lamu // 8/10

Surprising no one, a summery coconut citrus concoction is among my winners. Here I get the same gardenia note, thankfully turned down several notches so that it places nicely with a hint of lactonic coconut and citrus. This particular combination of coconut and citrus strongly reminds me of a flanker to Light Blue called Light Blue Sun, which I believe has been discontinued. Where the lemon and coconut of Light Blue Sun play the role of competing, albeit delicious, ice cream flavors in my cup, Lamu harmonizes these notes much more seamlessly. The whole Light Blue collection is my ride or die, but Lamu might just deprioritize Light Blue Sun for me.

Dawn // 5/10

Tart in a somewhat acrid way? The olfactory version of milk curdling due to a citrus fruit. Not unbearable but not enjoyable.

Dusk // 6/10

Almondy sandalwood. Safe, quiet, and somewhat creaming. Limited projection at best.

Dare // 7/10

Intriguing  “earthy” leather and cherry combination. Subtle hint of something with a dirt-like quality I’m confused by I’m also impressed by it being something different.

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Foope // Multiple // See Below

As one of most people who loves sampling perfume… I’m no stranger to Scentbird and its ilk. I’ll save my commentary on those companies for another day. But I will say that it’s always exciting to see black-owned brands be featured among their offerings. In fact, I discovered Foope through Scentbird… Which is unusual for me. Usually I like to keep ahead of black-owned fragrance brands. 

So naturally I bypassed waiting forever and a year for my Scentbird orders, and purchased some samples straight from Foope. So, were they any good?

Ibere // 8/10

Ibere reminds me of a few things. Firstly… A bit of the dusty velvet green that is a fougere. Yet oakmoss is not listed amongst its notes. Other than that, I get a dry, warm spicy citrus. To me the color that this scent evokes is ochre - of summer sun languishing into fall. It leans masculine and remains linear - two things that challenge me. But all around a solid scent.

3910 // 6.5/10

This scent is a very competent go at a synthetic oud scent. But it’s the type of oud that’s loudly and proudly synthetic - like a Mancera or Montale gambit. This is by no means a bad scent, but it’s one in a very crowded niche.

Ife // 7/10

I thought I would like this one the best! Mint, mojito, musk, cedar? Say no more. And again, this is a very competent scent. But it smells a little… hmm… lacking in substance to me. It’s like going on a date with someone who is pleasantly shallow. The florals are delicate and polite, the citruses a whisper, and the mint a slight garnish. The copy claims that this is the olfactory representation of pure love. Perhaps this is a love that growsx

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Kahh Spence // Angel // 4/10

I procrastinated on this one for so long. It brings my heart no great joy to give a fragrance a negative review. But in my personal opinion, Angel is just... not palatable.

It smells like the smell of static mixed with a very tart fruit (emphasis on tart, and de-emphasis on fruit). Imagine the smell just after you pour fruit juice on a hot radiator.

I wanted to like this fragrance based on the notes... I did. But it's a no from me. As an aside, though, Kahh does great things with hair. Can't fault the entire person for just one miss.

:(

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I’m a victim of word-of-mouth marketing. Oh sure, that’s not what the folks on the internet call it - but that’s what one eight-week long course said I could call it. So I’m using that license freely now. #learning #marketing #wordofmouth #viral

Anyway… Ganache Parfums, before getting reincarnated had drawn some attention on the internet. Unique scents at an affordable price point - run as a small business. Certainly a lot of these descriptors caught my attention. I took advantage of their initial “going out of business” sale. Yes, I’m not too ashamed to admit it. Yet here we are. To be fair - the deals allowed me to buy 11(!) fragrances for a reasonable price. I feel like getting a wide spread of scents I could potentially like gives me a good yardstick by which to measure the brand.

Without further ado, let’s get into it (yuh).

Aradano 6/10

A nice, tropical citrus and ripe fruit scent. The name translates to “blueberry,” but gives the impression of a fully synthetic blueberry, at that. Is it a bad scent? No. Is it better off as a candle? Yes. I’m sure Bath & Body Works has cranked out something similar in the past.

Lemon Creme 6.5/10

I swear, once again, this smells exactly like a lemon candle that I’ve smelled before. Insert some combination of lemon and vanilla here. For something that feels a little less like it will fight for dominance over your natural skin chemistry, I recommend Lemond Island.

Mango Mojito 7/10

Briefly, ever so briefly, I entertained the idea of keeping this scent. The name was evocative, and the scent itself was pretty spot on. And yet, it just kept reading as too synthetic and cloying on my skin. There’s mango, there’s mojito, but I have yet to feel refreshed.

Tasty 6/10

Sure, this smells tasty. Once again in - this would be a nice gourmand candle type of way. I get the impression of buttercream frosting. But it’s one of those smells that I can imagine in a handwash and not on my person all day long. 

When Life Hands You Lemons 6/10

I love the scent of lemons almost to a point of excess. Citrus fruits are one of my fragrant weaknesses. So naturally I bristle at the comparison of scents such as my beloved Light Blue to household cleaner. Never besmirch a lemon scent, I decry! Oh how the turntables… Somehow When Life Hands You Lemons manages to smell like a synthetic lemon and sugar scent used in household cleaners. At least Lemon Creme had the good graces to throw in vanilla to round things out.

Yankee Dolla 6.5/10

I think this is supposed to smell like a rum and Coke. Or just Coca-cola? I get the Coca-cola note. And that’s it, that’s the fragrance. I suppose if you love the smell of cola and want a solinote (is that even possible for what is assuredly an accord?) this would be the way to go.

Entice 6/10

Sugary sweet Fall Yankee Candle mishmash. I’m not enticed, I’m not repulsed. I’m just disappointed.

Silver Couture 7/10

Synthetic orange creamsicle. Not overly abrasive, but doesn’t sit nicely or naturally enough on the skin to sell me on itself. Would make for a nice room spray.

Lemon Eclair 7/10

A redemption arc for the Ganache Parfums lemon note. Namely, lemon here is not so sweet and vanillic as with Lemon Creme, yet not as bracing as When Life Hands You Lemons. There’s a gentle marriage of lemon, vanilla, and the vaguest hint of pastry dough. A shame I realized (too late) that I don’t want to smell like this.

Hunni 7.5/10

Usually honey as a note can go really well or really poorly in my book. Usually the latter. But I was pleasantly surprised by Hunni. Here was a natural, gentle honey scent that settled nicely into the skin. Unfortunately, I had found my fervor for honey scents had waned over time, leaving Hunni to face an early retirement.

Maybe I’m just not so into gourmand fragrances - which all of these are. Or maybe I simply think these all smell like gourmand candles, and don’t make for great body sprays. Perhaps a little of both. The longevity is nothing to sneeze at, but the sillage is 5-6 inches.

I’m honestly not sure if any of these scents are still in stock - but if you like the sound of them, I think they’re more common on resale sites now. (This also points to me having let them appropriately macerate over the span of 1+ years).

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Maison de Darius // Fiore + Velour // See Reviews Below

It’s wintertime here in the Northern Hemisphere. That winter is the prime domain of oud should shock no one. Not that people should refrain from wearing oud year-round: arbitrary seasonality is a discussion for another time…

Nay, now we are in Jan-Oud-ary (don’t worry I hate myself too) and I have availed myself to my collection, seeking out that rot that is but so precious.

The brand Maison de Darius was one of the first Black-owned fragrance brands I had encountered in the beginning of my search. At the time I believe he specialized in oud, but as with all my best memories - I can’t remember if that still holds true.

What’s more, I purchased from him so early on that none of these fragrances are still offered! Well, at least under a name that I recognize. But here we can treat it like a bit of a crate digging exercise - finding some great B-sides or hidden gems. As a note, I’ve let these two scents macerate for years (YEARS, I say) - so your mileage may vary.

Fiore // 6/10

Despite the name, the image crafted by this scent evokes velvety, dark green undergrowth. I get the sense of cooling petrichor on a forest floor in the middle of the night. There is a slippery nature to this scent - evasive, even. I see the words I need to capture the description scuttling over this fertile earth, just out of reach. Salamanders, rejoice.

But at the same time the scent is so far from how I feel about myself, how I wish my scent to augment me. All this to say - Fiore is a distinctive green-earthy scent, a scent of the type that I  typically struggle with. For those made of sterner stuff, give it (or its spiritual successor) a try.

Velour // 7/10

A linear synthetic sweet leather scent. 

“Really, that’s all?”

To be fair, an absence of description usually means that a scent is straightforward. My olfactory receptors aren’t trapped in a saccharine mess that usually accompanies “deeper” scents; the leathery notes are understated enough that I don’t feel I’m smelling a glorified scratch and sniff. Sometimes the highest compliment is to evade the wrath of my capricious nature. Let’s just say Velour caught me on a good night.

One thing I have to say about these scents is that they will last until the end of time. Velour, especially, lasted through a hand washing and a night of sleep. Sure, that may give some of us pause as to why a perfume may last that long - but longevity fans, here’s a strong contender. 

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Mugler / Angel Eau Croisier 2020 / 6/10

Once upon a time, in my mall-going days, I smelled Angel Eau Croisier 2019. I distinctly remember two things: a lack of discernible income on my part, and a tart mango note on its part.

“But wait!” you cry, “You’re clearly talking about the 2020 version here!”

To that I say: “No, don’t touch that!” That, being of course, my poorly constructed narrative arc.

Point being - right place, wrong time. Missed connection ad in Craigslist. Mugler and I just weren’t meant to be at that time.

Cut to 2020 and 2021… Well - Angel Eau Croisier 2019 was all the rage, and discontinued. I longed to smell it once again - just once. So against my better judgment I bought what I thought was a bottle on Amazon. 

“Hah!” says 2022 me in retrospect.

Indeed, instead of the 2019 bottle, I was delivered the 2020 bottle. Fig in lieu of mango. How would this fare in comparison to my far flung memories of the 2019 version?

Honestly it’s me who is the clown here. I’ve never liked the original Angel. And apart from serial abuse of Angel Le Lys in college I had had no success with patchouli or gourmands. Thus, I don’t love Angel Eau Croisier 2020. 

It’s quite an interesting scent, all things considered. Regardless of season, a fuzzy rasp of fig skin lies flush to an undercurrent of earthy patchouli. There is, of course, a rather masterful note of fig nectar in the scent, but none so much as to rid my mind of the scent’s inherent dated patchouli note. One redeeming quality is that it doesn’t have nuclear sillage and projection as do its angelic siblings. Small mercies.

One intriguing aside - the scent is downright oppressive in summer heat, but strangely pulls a bit of mint/pine in the winter. I blame it on that minx, patchouli, again.

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Microperfumes pt. 2

{Microperfumes // A Variety // See Below}

Well, I swore to myself that I would make this a three-part series. You know what they say about best laid plans? Yeah, me neither. I think the remaining organizational scheme was going to be something like, “YouTube made me try these” and then “Wild Cards.” But because I’m fickle and impatient, I’m lumping them all together. I trust that you, dear audience, will be capable of discerning what’s been popular on YouTube, and what’s more or less random.

And without further ado, let the chaos commence!

Dolce & Gabbana / Dolce Floral Drops / 7.5/10

Say it with me, “Pissy Floral.” And we know yours truly loves a pissy floral. For those in the audience not yet apprised of my ~trademark~ saying: tart, fresh, shampoo-y/hairspray-y scents that say “I’m fresh, I’m clean, don’t tread on me” = pissy florals. An easy wear. 

And no, I don’t feel like any of the notes are discernable enough to be worth flogging the Fragrantica page to death.

Yves Saint Laurent / Black Opium / 6/10

Somehow, this is the scent of being on the precipice of greatness. Alas, the vanilla, coffee, and pear fight and ultimately morph into a strangely tart, sweet, coffee. It’s kind of like that phenomenon people describe as being both scared and aroused. Not saying I can relate, but the twisted juxtaposition seems applicable here.

Bvlgari / Mon Jasmin Noir / 4/10

I can hardly smell anything. Maybe like my grandmother inhabited a room 1 week ago and then left the windows open while some laundry was drying outside. I don’t know her.

Versace / Crystal Noir EDT / 6.5/10

As with Black Opium, there’s something perversely appealing about Crystal Noir. In fact, Crystal Noir bears a passing resemblance to Zara’s Rich, Warm, Addictive - which can best be described as “mentholated coconut.” Maybe as if somebody made menthols out of coconut water? I’m confused, she’s confused, we’re all confused. I don’t hate it, but can’t imagine an occasion to wear it.

Gucci / Flora / 5/10

Mom, pick me up - I’m scared.

It’s been a while since I’ve smelled something so brashly and outspokenly traditionally feminine by today’s modern scenting standards. And yet, I’m face to face with the towering, pink confection demon of my nightmares. Somebody’s gotta do it to ‘em, but for once it’s not me.

Chanel / Chance Eau Tendre / 6.5/10

Pissy. Floral. Even more tart and green than the last one. Also something a little indolic in there. A sourpuss face only a mother could love.

Tom Ford / Black Orchid / 4/10

Sometimes I think the Tom Ford brief is simply “Make this smell strong and distinctive.” And boy, Black Orchid delivers. Yet, it happens to contain this weird, sweet-musky-animalic component that’s usually marketed as “honey” and makes my stomach turn. Few fragrances have successfully captured the true scent of honey, and this is one that fails to meet the mark for me.

Rihanna / Reb’l Fleur / 3/10

Derivative purple cough syrup. Avoid at all costs.

Tom Ford / Eau de Soleil Blanc / 6/10

Take Neroli Portofino and buoy out the strident neroli with some prissier notes. Summer scent writ large.

Jo Malone / Orange Blossom / 6/10

I love orange blossom. The note is truly handsome, round, and just the right mixture of fresh, delicate, and sweet. Frankly, this orange blossom reads as an indolic orange blossom honeysuckle mix. It’s not awful, but the indolence would have me nervous about others’ perceptions of me.

Lolita Lempicka / Lolita Lempicka Eau de Parfum / 4/10

Weird, plasticky licorice note. Just no.

Christian Dior / Poison Girl / 6/10

Ephemeral creamsicle-lite scent. I’m not sure what’s going on here but it’s not odious.

Thierry Mugler / Alien / 6/10

They say (they being the masses) that one is either an Alien or Angel fan. Hard to say where I skew on that divide. I hate patchouli 99.9% of the time, but am trying to grow an appreciation for

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{Zara // More Samples Than You Can Shake a Stick At // See Below}

Well boys, girls, theys, gays, and nonbinary babes… It’s been long awaited.

In fact, it took me months to build up to this. ~ Jk I fell of a cliff of emotion ~

But you know the fragrance community is obsessed with Zara fragrances. Whether there is duping, originality, or just a great deal afoot - Zara is the name on everyone’s lips. So I did what any rational person would do, and purchased every sample kit I could get my hands on.

Because what we want is a snobby nobody to comment on our beloved working girl of the scent world: Zara.

I don’t know who that snobby nobody is, but we want them to do it! Meanwhile, you can ready my review of ((too many)) Zara fragrances below.

Pink Flambe : 6/10

I don’t know what I expected. Zara fragrances are also notorious for being inaccurately named. For all I knew, this could smell like smoky incense. Alas, for all of us cynics - that is simply not the case. In fact, I’m immediately called back to summer camp in Mansfield, Pennsylvania - where the girls’ dorms were perpetually filled with the smell of Body Fantasies Cotton Candy. Truly, no scents marked that experience more than that neon body spray and Herbal Essences shampoo. Pink Flambe is giving me all of that pink, sugary fantasy. For those of us who do not love the smothering embrace of a saccharine fragrance, run far away before you’re transported to 2005.

Femme : 6/10

I am, once again, asking you not to accost me with a gourmand. Ok well I tried. Femme is not quite as overtly in my face as Pink Flambe, but the effort is there. This smells kind of like Bath and Body Works’ Warm Vanilla Sugar, but without the weird sweaty vanilla that BBW favors, and with a strange hint of wintergreen. Something about this almost makes my stomach turn. Thank you, next.

Tuberose : 7.5/10

Not tuberose. Natch. 

Twilight Mauve : 7/10

Giving me “If Acqua di Gioia were a hairspray” vibes. There’s a strange buttery note in the drydown. Blursed if I could ever find a scent to describe that way.

Ultra Juicy : 8/10

It smells juicy! It smells kinda like hairspray! I love a good musky fruity floral and Zara delivers.

Similar to Halloween Kiss Sexy, Trussardi Donna… Just more lightweight. DISTANT cousin to Fleur Narcotique.

Cashmere Rose : 6/10

Mostly cashmere, no rose. Another ambiguous sweet scent. Forgettable. 

Violet Blossom: 5/10

Black Opium but with a candied violet note. It’s not the vibe, stop!!!!

Lightly Bloom : 7/10

Quintessential pissy floral. Tart, ambiguous peony/lychee/tea rose fragrance? Check! I’ll take 20.

Rose : 7.5/10

Rose laundry deterrent, hardly abhorrent. I’ll let it pass… This time.

Wonder Rose: 6/10

Not rose. NEXT!!!

Nude Bouquet : 7.5/10

Muted pissy floral bouquet viewed through an amber paned-glass window. Pleasant.

Fields at Nightfall : 8.5/10

I have smelled both This is Her and Fields at Nightfall. Fields at Nightfall is a near perfect dupe - I love a good chestnut note. In fact, This is Her is weirdly like a wet… almost too sweet chestnut. 10 to 1 I prefer Fields at Nightfall.

Applejuice 8/10

Tart n’ juicy. Not odious. I can dig it.

Deep Garden 6/10

Floral mishmash. I have no idea what I’m smelling, 

Ruby Berries : 6.7/10

Thankfully not a noxious synthetic berry note. A little bit tart a la cherry FunDip. I don’t make the rules, I just enforce em’.

Nuit : 5/10

Vanilla baby powder demon. Double ick.

Red Vanilla : 7/10

I am confusion. Namely, Is the red in this name intended to be ruby grapefruit? Mama, this is citrus. Citrus with splash of vanilla. I’m not unfavorably impressed.

Gardenia : 5/10

One of a million ambiguous vanillas that I’ve smelled from this brand before. Just make it stop.

Gourmand Addict : 6.5/10

Vanillic root beer barrel. Addict, my foot.

White : 7/10

Inoffensive clean musk. At least it isn’t soapy musk! I cannot emphasize that enough!!!

Black Amber : 6/10

Bubble gum mixed with amber. Smells perverse.

Orchid : 5/10

I get mostly alcohol drying down into the vaguest musky floral. Thank you for your efforts.

Orchid Intense : 5/10

The same! But different! Grass note? Sure, give them the ole’ razzle dazzle!

Ori*ntal : 1/10

0 effort name. 0 effort vanillic mishmash. Just give it up.

Yellow Sun : 6/10

Apropos of nothing, we start off with summer camp memories… And end with them! This smells a lot like Herbal Essences Body Envy with a strange buttery note. The sentimentalist in me is satisfied, but at what cost?

I went on a face journey, a nose journey, and maybe about 2 inches of a real-life journey. Zara gave me some hits, some misses, and a shocking number of weird vanilla amalgamations. My favorites are of course a good pissy floral, musky fruity floral, or Fields at Nightfall.

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{Bailly Fragrance // Excellence, Resilience, Brilliance // See Reviews Below}

Let’s start with the names, shall we? There’s just something so… cool about putting on a fragrance called Excellence.

“Oh, what are you wearing today?”

“Excellence”

End Scene

Apparently I’m also behind on their Limitless collection, which, come on now folks. Doesn’t it sound appealing? The fact that their products are “Fractionated Coconut Oil, Alcohol-Free, Paraben-Free, Phthalate-Free, Colourant-Free, Cruelty-Free & 100% Vegan” doesn’t hurt.

Brilliance 8/10

Brilliance is a solid fragrance. I would say it builds off the backs of giants (or however that phrase goes), however. This is a fruitchouli in the vein of a much more toned down La Vie Est Belle (which could be considered a much more toned down version of Angel). Fortunately, the patchouli here hardly threatens to suffocate or ruin the show, and the praline is tactfully restrained from making this scent smellable from space. Which is to say, Brilliance is a demure, skin-scent adjacent sister of fruitchoulis of ages past. For those of you who like La Vie Est Belle, but don’t want everyone in your office to know (or smell) it, this is a wonderful alternative. I will say, I’ve had this sample for a while though, and the coconut oil base has seemed to add a noticeable waxiness to things.

Resilience 9/10

Those who know me know that any mention of litchi/lychee gets my hackles raised. All I can think of is drowning alive in tinned fruit syrup. But I will say, with Parfums De Marly Delina (which I don’t actually like) having a stranglehold on the tart, fresh rose market with it’s little litchi trick… What can I say? I want to know what the hype is about! In fact, I often smell certain scents and think to myself,

“Ah, now this is what I thought Delina would smell like”

- and I can understand the rabid fanaticism! Resilience is one of those fragrances. Though litchi is tart, it is also quite sweet. Where a pure, fresh rose and, say, peony scent would become what I call my beloved “pissy floral,” the litchi buoys up a rounder, almost stuffy smelling rose into territory verging on photorealism. All that fluff to say this smells pretty, delicate, and pale. Not too old, not too young, a perfect scent for someone that wants to seem, well, perfect.

Excellence 7/10

The citrus fragrance being the lowest rated of the bunch? It can’t be, CurareBlog!?

Yeah well. It’s not my nose that has changed, no worries there - I still love face-meltingly fresh fragrances. Here’s the stitch, if you will. Excellence has citrus, but it’s a candied citrus… buried in mounds of sugary red fruits. The coconut oil is also even waxier in this sample.

See: Face-meltingly fresh

Fresh, this fragrance is not. Certainly a passable, pleasing work scent, but nothing that satisfies my omnipresent citrus itch. Something such as Lemond Island is the gourmand direction I want to see more of - where lemon is the star, and also gourmand. Not the gourmand bits taking the leading role.

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{Mair // Remember When // 7/10}

When I first got this fragrance (what feels like eons ago), I can’t remember it being a love at first sniff. I recall there being a very powdery component, and powder is not a favorite aroma of mine.

THANKFULLY !!! As my negligent person has finally gotten around to furnishing a review, Remember When turns out to be a fresh, gentle citrus scent with the vaguest perceptible dose of indole. Almost like when those scented plastic dolls were all the rage, Remember When is the pleasant and slightly plasticky scent of a citrus-scented doll allowed to mellow for a bit. Or maybe I would describe it as freshly laundered sheets with a hint of lemon zest. Something a bit domestic and comforting.

I think this is a perfectly safe office scent, and leans unisex-feminine in my personal opinion. Projection is not nuclear, nor is longevity, but I prefer my scents that way. I think Mair has put together a perfectly competent fragrance here, and I have no complaints.

Looking forward to seeing what’s next from them!

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{Osme Perfumery // You Or Someone Like You, Architects Club // See Below}

Technically Osme Perfumery gets a pass. They didn’t make these fragrances - so if I think they’re terrible, Osme has no responsibility for the victims of my verbal lashings. Osme is, however, a black-owned fragrance retailer in Wynwood, Florida. *Hint, if you haven’t visited Wynwood, you’re really missing out*

Their sample prices can run a little better than competitors such as LuckyScent, so keep an eye out for fragrances you’ve been meaning to try.

You Or Someone Like You (6.5/10)

This fragrance makes me so mad! On my skin, I get a generic-smelling, slightly minty men’s cologne smell. It makes me think this fragrance should be named “Welsh Spring,” or some equally tongue-in-cheek reference to Irish Spring. Why should I fall victim to smelling like fresh cut grass when I want to smell like mint!?

And yet, on paper, the true loveliness of the scent can be found. Smelling like a cousin of Via Camerelle by Carthusia, there is a delightful interplay between citrus and mint. This is no sweetened “mojito” of Acqua di Gioia fame, but a lovely, clean, “outdoors” scent. I’m going to rant for eternity about how this scent needs to smell on me as it does on paper.

Architects Club (10/10)

Architects Club did not stutter. From beginning to end, Arquiste has stuck all of its landings when it comes to this scent. This is a dry, wood-aged, sweet vanilla with a lightly camphoraceous herbal undertone. If you weren’t wearing a fisherman’s sweater and drinking gin in this scent, you are now. I don’t make the rules. Any gender can wear this. Your cat and dog (in an alternate universe where it is actually safe to do so) could wear this. I love this scent, and man, does it last forever. Become the suave, be-stubbled novel-writer of your dreams overnight. I’m not joking *****.

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Thierry Mugler // Cologne // 7/10

Often, fragrances are marketed as unisex but end up leaning towards one gender. (Insert obligatory comment about how any fragrance can be worn by any gender - couched in commentary about compulsory heteronormativity that conditions us to associate certain scents with certain sexes). It's rare that I find a fragrance that keeps to the straight and narrow of true genderlessness. Cologne by Mugler happens to win this game easily.

Any reader of this blog knows that I was a devout member of the church of Luca Turin for quite a long time. That is, until I realized our tastes were almost entirely different. It only takes so many purchasing blunders before one realizes that perhaps taking Luca's word as law might be a mistake. All that being said, Cologne is one of those fragrances that Luca and I agree on. He gave it the apt descriptor of "space-aged barbershop." Given that the scent was my signature for at least a year, please allow me to set the stage for you.

...

The last of the piping hot water drips off of you, swirling toward the shower grate with no sense of urgency. You push the shower curtain aside and step out, grabbing the towel on the hook to the right of the shower. A thin patina of condensation covers the celadon-green tiles of the bathroom along with the chic, yet simple silver bathroom hardware. The smell of steam and a fresh wash permeates the air.

You stop in front of the fogged up bathroom mirror to wipe it free of condensation. Your smooth, expressionless face gazes back at you from the silvered glass. You ensure that your hardened, stainless steel body has sustained no nicks from yesterday's work, and you turn to head into the bedroom to pick another day's outfit with which to flatter your genderless, android form.

...

So yes, Cologne smells as if an art-deco android took a scalding shower in a pale green bathroom, and was now taking in their bauhaus bathroom appointments with the smell of steam surrounding them. The note of steam is significant, perhaps accomplished by something such as cetalox, which gives me a definitive "warm, slightly metallic, just-out-of-the-dryer wool sweater" scent.

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Thoughts on The Industry

Here's a long rant about things that rankle me about the fragrance industry.

1. Cringe Cultural References and General Cultural B*stardization

Oh, I know you know. These fragrances, notes, and descriptors come to mind immediately:

Exotic... Oriental... G*psy Water... Palo Santo/Sacred Hawaiian Locations... Black Afgano/Opium/Hindu Kush/Cocaine... Insert any vague "East Asian" referencing fragrance here

Let me break it down for you.

Exotic is a "nothing" word - as a surrogate for "not indigenous" to the speaker's native land, it feels othering to people for whom said fragrance, ingredient, etc. is commonplace. Imaging people calling Apple Pie "exotic." Because U.S. culture has predominated global taste-making in many regards, we can't seem to fathom not being the cultural norm.

Oriental is a word meaning what, exactly, in a fragrance context? From what country? What amalgamation of smells? I'd rather someone tell me something is spicy, herbal, dry, masculine, feminine, powdery... etc. etc. The list goes on and on. Oriental has also been used as a word to make people feel as "other." Go figure.

G*psy Water. G*psy is actually considered a slur by many Romani people. Is it that hard? The bar is on the ground, people!

I have a special bone to pick with the proliferation of palo santo in fragrance. Palo santo is sacred to the indigenous people of the Americas. Don't twerk with it. Don't cleanse your spirit. Don't buy it from Urban Outfitters. And don't put it in some new-age hippie fragrance for yuppies with too much guilt and too little rational thought about how to productively use it! The same goes for indigenous Hawaiian people - leave their culture out of your marketing!

Edgy "drug"-themed fragrances are also cringe to me. Mass incarceration for marijuana is still a thing. British colonialism by virtue of forcing opium on the Chinese was a thing. Cocaine is also illegal and... not sexy? Just a thought. Not to mention the cringe Hindu Kush reference; you're telling me the whole of Hindu culture gets a nod from the fragrance industry in a perfume with "kush" in the title? Pass.

Speaking of weird referential fragrances... East Asian culture is almost always diluted into a tea fragrances or "fancy Asian city name" + common ingredient. Why can't there be anything but a superficial reference to these places? Why do we rarely see an entire fragrance name in the native language (i.e. not some mix of French and Romanized Mandarin). If Bond Number 9 can name a gajillionty places in New York, surely you, Mr./Mrs./Mx. perfume namer can put some elbow grease into researching a given geographic location when coming up with a name for your fragrance.

2. Youtube Fragrance Culture

Yes, I watch these Youtubers and enjoy their content, but there gets to be a point where one is saturated by the cyclical nature of their channel's development. Not to say people don't deserve money, but at least make your goals obvious.

The formula always seems to go like this:

1. Start of the journey with a few affordable, and maybe a few higher end fragrances.

2. Start to realize "haul" and "bl*nd buys" rake in the views

3. Constantly haul fragrances to gush about them, only to declutter them 2 videos later. Price of fragrances continue to increase.

4. Followers buy fragrances you gushed about from affiliate links, just to be disappointed and ultimately duped when you end up decluttering.

5. Generate a lot of waste: boxes, cellophane, etc.

6. Somehow make reviewing more about your appearance/lifestyle than the fragrances

7. Receive sponsorships, leaving viewers unclear as to your actual opinion on products

8. Profit

9. Make your own product and advertise to your audience

10. Profit more

And yes, I realize that by positioning myself as a fragrance critic/reviewer myself that I am not immune to the same criticism. It comes with the territory. But please, keep me accountable if I'm not doing so myself.

3. Speaking Bl*nd Buys... Ableism!!!

Who in the world thought it would be a great idea to refer to buying fragrance "sight unsmelled" or "unsampled" as a bl*nd buy!? I mean... Yes, fragrance has a visual component... But one can see that before buying a fragrance. Which means the real sense not being utilized is your nose. So focus on the fact that you haven't sampled the fragrance.

Not to mention, it's insulting to imply that buying things randomly and in an uninformed fashion is strictly the purview of people who characterize themselves as blind. Plot twist, Joe Schmoe, but it is, in fact, you making the uninformed choices here.

Add in your classic overuse of words such as "crazy" and "OCD" and you've got yourself all the makings of a modern fragrance reviewer.

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{Motif Olfactif // Vetu De Vert, Nectar Boise, Huaka’i, Makai // See Below}

Talk about a house with a realized brand. I always knew Motif Olfactif was high on my list of brands to try, especially considering it’s a black-owned brand! Each scent appears to be crafted with a distinct story in mind, indeed bringing to mind the idea of a motif. I’m also extremely grateful that the sample sizes are quite generous, allowing one to have ample time to get to know a fragrance.

Vetu De Vert (6/10)

This scent isn’t for me. In fact, I happen to believe it’s for natural history museums. What on earth do I mean by that? You see, this scent is just so green, so teeming with the scents of the rich, black soil of a jungle understory that I can’t imagine it being anywhere else than in some sort of exhibit on jungle growth patterns, native animals, or similar. So strong is the scent of dark green undergrowth that this scent is divorced from the concept of humans wearing it, and instead moves into the idea of becoming an ambient scent environment.

Nectar Boise (8/10)

Eau de buttery gingersnap cookie, anyone? Though lightly indolic to my nose, there is an unmistakable gourmand flair to Nectar Boise. This is a warm, balsamic vanilla scent, with a nice undercurrent of spice. Nectar Boise screams North American Winter to me, and would be well suited for coziness of all varieties.

Makai (6.5/10)

Makai smells a bit like fruit punch on steroids to me. Don’t get me wrong. To many, this type of mixture would be quite evocative of the tropics. But, apart from mixed feelings on non-Native Hawaiians utilizing Hawaiian names/themes for products, I find it a bit hard to believe that this relatively generic scent is truly evocative of being in Makai. In fact, the most apparent disappointment in this scent is that it does not smell much of green mango.

Huaka’i (6/10)

For some reason I cannot for the life of me divorce this scent from the smell of burning ear candles. Yes, this is a niche reference, but the smell of burning beeswax and linen is unmistakable to me here. I recognize there is a wealth of expensive woods in this scent, but once you go wax, you never go back… What a blast from the past.

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{House of Sacred Scents // Sample Set // See Reviews Below}

Like any good degenerate I’ve taken far too long to review something. Sound familiar?

The sample set from House of Sacred Scents, however, has long been (rightfully) on my to-do list. House of Sacred Scents is a very kind and responsive brand - so for this gesture of respect alone I owe her a thorough review of the sample set I bought.

One problem - apart from the descriptions of the sample set on the website, I seemed to have lost the paper that describes which sample is which. Alas!

So, in this review I will do my best to describe each in accordance with the scent I believe it is referring to. And if you’re genuinely curious - you can reach out to House of Sacred Scents yourself! ;)

What I also appreciate about this brand is that these scents are intended to accompany meditation and self reflection. It certainly makes fragrance feel more tangible than ethereal, in this way.

Liquid Altar (7/10)

Just as the dark tag on the outside of the sample looks mysterious, so do the contents of the sample swirl in shifting shades of darkness. There is something warm, earthy, and slightly clay-like in this scent. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it gives me the impression of sunbaked earth at nightfall. A unique scent among those I’ve smelled.

Heart Lift (7.5/10)

To me, based off of descriptions, Heart Lift appears to be the sample with the gold leaf motif. It does indeed smell of delicate, lightly citrusy florals with something a little waxy underneath. In fact, if I close my eyes I can easily envision a lightly-floral scented natural beeswax candle. There is something warm and comforting in this scent.

Drop In (7/10)

I suspect this sample to be the one with the golden “Good Vibes” tag. While citrusy like some of the other samples, there is an element of camphor here. In fact, there is also an element of a lightly bracing herbal accord. For some reason, I like to envision this scent as going along with a Lush-esque soap entitled “Lemon Verbenade” or something similar. If any of these scents were, in fact, gendered at all - this one might veer slightly in the masculine direction.

Enter the Temple (7.5/10)

I suspect this sample to be the one with the leaf motif. Enter the Temple shares an organic-smelling familial relationship with Topanga of B.Free Organics fame. But this is where the similarities end. Enter the Temple is immediately more citrusy and herbaceous from the start. It definitely meets the criterion of drawing one’s focus and promoting sharpness of mind.

Unknown??? (7.5/10)

The sample with the white stars seems to me the most incongruous of the bunch. Instead of energetic citruses I get a slightly indolic citrus-flavored honey scent. And I don’t mean synthetic honey - I mean dripping off the honeycomb honey. However, one still understands this to be a perfume, as the citrus and floral elements do not bow out to leave the wearer with only honey.

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{Hive Luxury Fragrances // Bloom, Grace, Love Child // See Review Below}

I am (and probably always will be) a sucker for minimalist luxury advertising schemes. Hive definitely nailed the mark in this respect quite early on. Why did it take me so long to review Hive fragrances then? Well, up until recently they didn’t offer samples! As soon as they did (and believe me, I checked) I snatched up those that I thought most suited my tastes.

To be honest, I wasn’t disappointed. Sure, some of the scents may not work exactly with my skin chemistry, but I understood the vibe each was going for, and could see the olfactory image intended to be portrayed. Well played.

Bloom (7/10)

This is the fragrance I wanted to like the most! With references to lingonberry, lemon, and so forth, I thought I was set for life. There’s just something weird here where the scent gives me dill pickles and sweet florals. I suspect there may be something amiss with gardenia/magnolia (which aren’t referenced in the notes, but usually cause me trouble), or perhaps the muskiness of the angelica seed. The sillage, projection, and longevity are good - so if you aren’t a sufferer of the “mystery dill” phenomenon, I’d say give Bloom a try.

Grace (8/10)

Grace was my favorite scent of the three I purchased. This scent is a nice, pale pink floral (peony, likely a touch of tea rose), buoyed by a touch of sweetness (honey). It refrains from entering what I have lovingly referred to as “pissy floral” territory by leaning on its innocence and sweetness. Projection and sillage are not as outspoken as Bloom, but no wallflower either.

Love Child (5/10)

Love Child missed the mark for me. I really quite dislike baby-powder-adjacent scents, and Love Child happens to fall into that category. Instead of playing up its notes of tuberose, jasmine, or even rose, all I smell is all orris, all the time. I personally associate orris and violet scents with “old-timey” movies, meaning that I feel antiquated wearing this scent. That being said, if you like orris - this is a good one to try.