Ajlizea

Here is a review of my latest discovery. I will keep it brief, as many here have already been inspired to write beautiful, poetic texts about this fragrance, to which I have little to add. Nevertheless, I wanted to write something.
The scent starts, unsurprisingly, with dry woods. Not dusty dry or lifeless, no, there is warmth and definitely liveliness present. Perhaps it is due to the slight, very slight earthy undertones? The image of Artemis in the underbrush, beautifully described by others here, fits well. But this wood is not a thicket, not a green jungle. It is an airy forest at the end of summer. Autumn has not yet brought rain, and dried plums hang from the trees, dehydrated by the summer heat, spreading their warm, spicy scent. There is also a slight sharpness that reminds one of plum brandy. It is dusk at the edge of the forest, and a warm wind intensifies all the aromas. The dry spiciness of cloves wafts in, immediately rounded out by beeswax, which gives the evening air a light, creamy, and completely unobtrusive sweetness.
Over time, this sweetness becomes stronger, yet it always remains the soft sweetness of honey and dried fruit. The entire fragrance also becomes softer and cuddles against the skin. It now reminds me of Indian rice pudding with cinnamon, cloves, and other spices. And lots of honey. It is now dusk, and the dessert is being cooked in a wooden cabin, where beeswax candles are everywhere. And the cabin creaks slightly and smells as night falls outside. Or is that a log in the fireplace, burning completely smoke-free and emitting this dry, woody aroma?
A scent from late summer that tells of a rich harvest, sunny days, and dry fields and forests. I can imagine it on cooler days, but also on a summer evening. It is beautiful, dry and soft all at once, bitter and sweet combined. Spicy and dark, as if it could tell of lost magic, yet friendly and dark golden like an autumn sunbeam.

Good Girl, the perfume in the shoe. Well, I think the bottle is great and I had hoped that I would like the scent. I’m not quite sure what I expected, but not what’s actually inside:
The opening is quite lightly citrusy, but actually, we immediately dive into the flowers. So it’s not light and fresh at the beginning, but rather heavy and floral right away. I immediately smell the orange blossom, and my relationship with orange blossom is a bit complicated. Often I love it, sometimes I find fragrances that are all about orange blossom quite dreadful. Here it reminds me of "Black Opium (Eau de Parfum) | Yves Saint Laurent," and that’s exactly how I like it: beautiful, soft, seductive - it pulls me right into the scent, so I’m surprised to like it. (Even though I had hoped for that with the bottle.)
The orange blossom doesn’t stand alone but mixes with other flowers that I can’t quite identify. Something bothers me here already, something seems synthetic, almost piercing and a bit stuffy, I suspect the tuberose. Nevertheless, the whole thing becomes soft and heavy and sweet, first a dry sweetness that then becomes stronger. The warmth of the base also comes through quickly and gives it fullness - roundness, isn’t that what you call it with wines? I think that word fits here too, quite delicious thanks to the tonka. It becomes softer and cozier and more impactful. Still, this heaviness, floral-gourmand quality has to be liked. If not, it can indeed come off as intrusive, especially at the beginning.
But I could like it, actually. If it weren’t for something that bothers me. I wasn’t quite sure what it was. At first, I thought maybe one of the flowers or just the general "heavy floral mix of a party scent." This kind of thing bothers me often, and most of the time I can’t name why. Maybe it’s just too sticky-synthetic for me, or maybe this scent isn’t balanced well enough and my nose picks up on that? Time to look into the notes. And even though I believe there’s something to the sticky flower bouquet theory, I immediately found new suspects: praline and cocoa. What initially reminded me of Black Opium along with the orange blossom turns out to be cocoa, not coffee. I can smell the roasted aroma here too, but also something quite disturbing. As often happens, the chocolate note drives me away here as well.
If that doesn’t bother you, and if you enjoy heavy floral gourmands, you should definitely give it a try. Unfortunately, there won’t be a high heel bottle for me.

I was really skeptical when I pulled this fragrance from a sample pack: I must have read somewhere that Virgin Island Water is a coconut scent. And although I enjoy eating (or drinking) coconut, I always find it bothersome as a fragrance. So I braced myself for the worst case: cheap coconut sunscreen that knocks you over from 10 meters away.

This fragrance is the opposite. Coconut is present right from the start, but it is not coconut sunscreen and not hair conditioner either. The often-mentioned Piña Colada fits well, completely homemade from fresh ingredients, of course. It doesn’t push itself loudly to the forefront and is not the first thing I smell. That is the lime, and with it, right from the beginning, comes the rum. I think of Mojito and look at the fragrance notes. Indeed: lime, rum, cane sugar, everything is there for the summery refreshing cocktail.
The initial zestiness fades over time but doesn’t completely disappear. Instead, more creaminess comes through, as if it were becoming evening in the cocktail bar while flowers subtly release their scent. And if you’re thinking now, "I don’t want to smell like alcohol, like sticky spots on wooden tables," then you’re thinking of the wrong kind of cocktail bar. This one is calm, beautiful, and discreet. Soft music plays, and the waves crash in the background. We are, of course, at the beach; did I not mention that? A lot of white is worn, and the conversations of the other guests are just a soft murmur. The word elegant immediately comes to mind.

I like this fragrance. For me, the initial zestiness and freshness could last longer, but even so, it is incredibly summery and delicious. This is certainly because the coconut does not play the main role but stays in the background. I get to drink the Mojito while Piña Colada is being prepared at the bar. I am looking forward to summer.

Oh so beautiful. The scent and the bottle that I would love to have.
I loved and wore the original for a long time. Even though it was sometimes too much, I would carefully step into the spray cloud so as not to stand out all day long.
The first spray of this immediately reminds me of the original. Wish. For me unmistakable, and only superficially resembling Angel.
And like the original, I can't really say what I'm smelling. It's warm, it's sweet, dark-caramel-honey-colored with golden splashes. A walk through the candy corner of a Christmas market. Passing by honey, caramel, and marzipan. Through soft lights that are dim enough to see the stars in the deep blue night sky. Heavy and sweet, but not sticky, rather soft and warm.
For me, this scent is gentler than the original, darker like the blue of the bottle. More elegant and somewhat reserved. I think I find it even more beautiful.
After a few hours, it becomes weaker and smokier. Less sweet. A few steps away from the market stalls and into the calm smoky night air.
A feel-good scent, a touch of magic that surrounds me and then only becomes more beautiful in the end.

Actually, I don't like shopping malls. But do you know those large, airy ones, with calm music and few people, all of whom are relaxed? Where there is ice cream and waffles and, yes, milkshakes.

With the first spray, I take a big sip of such a milkshake. Tropical-fruity, I think of mango, but it’s probably the dragon fruit. And a large portion of vanilla.
With my huge cup in hand, I stroll around. On the rim, there’s a large white flower attached, whose scent rises to my nose with every sip. Orange blossom, mixed with something else.
I pass by a perfumery, from which comes that sweet-heavy hint we all know. But I don’t go in, I just take a bit of floral and musk with me. On the other side of the aisle is a café, from which there’s also a fragrance. Over time, it becomes increasingly clear that someone has probably poured a big sip of dark-spicy coffee - or even Original Black Opium - into the cup.
Nice, I think to myself, and continue strolling, with a last bit of milkshake in hand.

I don’t like coffee, I don’t like shopping malls. But I really like this scent. It doesn’t differ much from the original for me. Vanilla, orange blossom, and what must be coffee. This one is fruitier, especially at the beginning, also a bit more synthetic, which probably bothers some. One could see it as a light version. There’s nothing neon about it, but that’s okay.