Carnival of Souls Marissa Zappas 2024

Rich, eccentric, and slightly spooky – the kind of scent I feel I have to wear with a floor-length fur with. This is scalded condensed milk, ladled to your lips on tarnished silver. Nurturing but intimidating. It makes me want to re-read some Lemony Snicket. There’s a wealth of notes here: leathery saffron, smoky incense, dainty violet, sweet vanilla, etc.... but carefully blended, with no one element overpowering another. Patchouli usually scares me, but it plays nice in Carnival, adding a layer of shadow to the picture. The cream is leaden, just beginning to caramelise. Divine. It’s also got that “antique shoppe” dust accord I love so dearly (see Byredo’s Bibliotheque). When it comes to performance Carnival is a slow, steady burn. Doesn’t leave much of a trail, but lasts a good four hours on skin and all night long in a fur coat.

Mental Snapshot: You’re an orphaned waif trembling in the foyer of your long-lost great-great aunt’s estate. It’s a dagger-gabled Victorian, painted in shades of shadow and curtained in ancient brocade. Your aunt’s face is obscured by an enormous raven-feather fascinator but she greets you in a Transatlantic croon – “Crumpet! Darling! Pet!” – and swaddles you in her mink. “Thank the stars you’re here. I just put a kettle on.” She won’t say what’s in the kettle, but whatever it is smells intoxicating.

tl;dr: A Series of Fortunate Scents