Moonmilk Stora Skuggan 2017

Moonmilk is a scent that really reminds me of my swedish childhood. Moonmilk has a strong note of cardamom which is a really used spice in bakery in sweden. Me and my mother would purchase these cardamom buns from a local bakery and eat them at home with a warm glass of milk. This scent reminds me of just that which makes this scent super nostalgic and a lovely scent. Longevity is around 8-10 hours which is perfect for the scent. This is one of the easiest gourmands i have tried and its truly amazing!

Stora Skuggan fragrances lead with evocative narrative briefs and Moonmilk succeeds in conveying its namesake mineral substance, nighttime caverns, and a quiet geological-lunar awe. This is, by itself, a novel pleasure I associate with Stora Skuggan. What astonishes me (and moved me to purchase a full bottle) is that Moonmilk stands on its own simply as a beautiful, versatile fragrance.

With the first sniff I did get the sensation of damp limestone and cool dark spaciousness. I am transported to Gessner’s alpine a cave and feel a timeless wonder at this sparkling white mineral milk leaking from the grey walls. How this particular combination of notes and molecules achieve this is striking, though certainly the narrative is highly suggestive.

What draws me back to Moonmilk after this initial impression is the uplifting elegance I have long associated with sandalwood ever since I found an intricately cut sandalwood fan in my grandmother’s dresser as a child. I remember returning to the drawer again and again, unfolding the fan, and falling back as I fanned my face in pure bliss.

Sandalwood is the dominant note in Moonmilk to my nose after a bright tea and lime opening. The cardamom is also a cool presence. The other notes are not as distinct but the overall effect is a fragrance that evokes sandalwood’s characteristic otherworldly creamy-woodiness—without sweetness. It feels like a dry, utterly soft and smooth sandalwood.

I have tried other sandalwood fragrances and this one is my favorite. Others unfortunately have brought dill/vinegar to mind in a way that I sadly cannot escape. Moonmilk avoids this, perhaps with the leather, spices, and/or lily-of-the-valley. The result is gorgeous, uplifting, serene, and cleansing to wear. Moonmilk leaves no doubt as to why sandalwood is held sacred.

The scent is suitable for many occasions. I find it fairly linear after the initial opening notes. And it hovers pleasantly within arms distance for several hours. I do reach for it at the full moon in recognition of the story and the lunar cycle but also for a relaxing afternoon, focused work, or festive occasion. Absolutely unisex in my opinion.

Horchata and lime? Spiced sandalwood butter? Moonmilk is not sweet enough to be a gourmand or milky enough to be a lactonic, but more of a creamy citrus-spice. It smells like an all-natural spa tincture you might be tempted to lick – edible in individual elements, but not when mortar-and-pestled together. It’s a more arid Mistpouffer, a summertime Fantome de Maules. The interplay between the balmy cream and the salient cardamom and lime juice create a kind of “warm sand” granularity to the scent, if that makes any sense. Just try it; it’s lovely.

Mental Snapshot: Driftwood bonfires guide you, crackling along the receding tide. A timbered hut flickers amidst the dunes, palm fronds whispering in the breeze. The beach druid greets you wordlessly, placing a healing concoction in your hands. It’s in a coconut husk bowl. It smells like this.

tl;dr: beach druid

At first application, a cloud of rolling, round cardamom. So potent, it bursts past the others in the top (black tea tries to play catch up but is domineered, lime hardly stands a chance). If the air catches my arm just right I smell it: there…there is the tea and lime like a mixed drink. I smelled the tea before I knew the perfume even contained it. I only wish my perception was able to enjoy it more (longer).

The physical presence of the cardamom is great if you love cardamom. Overwhelming and a bit noxious if you do not.

As it settles (maybe 20 min in to wear) the cardamom still rolls around the nostrils and the pepper begins to mingle making the scent take on a sort of camphorous bent. Again, the camphor-quality of the cardamom is so domineering that I was unable to detect mandarin.

At the base, the perfume completely settled, the notes finally getting along with each other, no longer fighting. Right in time for a new star to shine: sandalwood! Not just any sandalwood. Mysore sandalwood, the creamy, sweet favorite of many who love sandalwood—myself included!

One could be forgiven for thinking the sandalwood in Moonmilk would be the desert-dry, papery, scratchy variety if patience with the nose-tickling open isn’t had. But no, the treat for those who have the patience to wait is the delicious sandalwood many smell with nostalgia and reverence. My nose kept hunting my wrist for more! More! It’s so beautiful.

So if you love cardamom in all its forms and have the stillness to wait out its prolonged solo act, you may find something here worth smelling.

I put this on expecting more spiciness and warmth, and what I got was the feeling of sitting on a beach in Mexico at 9pm at night with a citrusy cocktail underneath a palm tree. The lime just hits you in the face, and is backed by the most delicate creaminess. It almost seems edible, but its just wonderfully delightful. It is so light and breezy and tropical. I would wear it more at night, as it seems to have almost a mystique to it. After several hours, it dries down to a creamy woodiness that feels almost familiar. It wraps around you, as the lime before invigorated you, and now the woodiness comforts you. I cannot wait to wear this when I am actually on the beach in Mexico this summer, feeling the warm sand between my toes and tasting the limes from dinner.