Bellemorte

I know coriander, use fresh coriander leaves for cooking, and have it in my garden. It does require a bit of finesse, because a tad too much and the food tastes soapy. However, when properly dosed, coriander is really delicious. I also enjoy tea with coriander seeds, especially in winter and with a splash of soy milk. And of course, in perfume, I like the well-balanced amount of coriander - leaf or seed, I’m fine with both. It gives the scent a cool, smooth, green freshness or a spicy depth. But here too, finesse is required, because in fragrance it can also become piercingly soapy or downright sharp.

Until now, I would have sworn I could easily identify coriander in fragrances. Until now!

Coriander, on the other hand, I would hardly have recognized as a coriander scent - yes, it is green, and it is spicy. But neither the typical light green, fresh note of coriander leaf nor the cinnamon-sharp note of the seed do I find represented here. Instead, coriander presents itself as a dark green, soft, directly creamy scent, which I can definitely attribute to nutmeg blossom and juniper, but not to what it is named after. This confuses me a bit - but maybe Russian coriander smells like this? I don’t know.

Nevertheless, coriander is a pleasant scent with decent longevity and sillage - not a going-out scent but a present companion for the workday or evening, which is unobtrusive and can be worn by both genders.

or
I wish I were a fairy...

I really wanted to test Foxglove, as I currently have a little penchant for creamy iris-heavy fragrances with soft leather. So I waited impatiently for the DS Durga Wanderpaket.
My first test candidate? Of course, Foxglove! :-)

I am a bit disappointed, as the scent does not meet my expectations/desires. On my skin, there is no distinct iris note, neither flower nor root. The carrot note, which I find amusing and exciting in fragrances, is also missing here. The leather could be the soft, creamy, light note in the background of the scent, which I can only filter out (or imagine) with a lot of concentration.
Prominently, a bright, zesty, almost fruity, youthful rose develops on my skin. No rosewood, just a rose. Initially refreshed with citrus, but this freshness kick disappears in a flash.

A light, skin-close, cuddly scent - quite beautiful, and if I ever buy a delicate pink summer dress and become blonde, I would wear it in the wild. As it is, it doesn’t suit me, even though I find it enchanting.

Basically, lavender always works for me - in the evening for relaxation, during the day to stay calm, in stress, on vacation, summer, winter... just always. I also love it combined with vanilla or wood or resin or... it doesn't matter, lavender works. And then there are those days, days when only lavender will do, and that's when Lavande de Haute-Provence is just right:

Simply a calm, fresh, delicate violet lavender... a hint of citrus, more of an idea than anything else, freshens up the beginning. However, I perceive it more as background ambiance. The same goes for the delicate, dry wood base. That too is not really prominent. A scent to close your eyes, breathe deeply, and recharge for a moment.

The longevity isn't great (about 2 hours) and the sillage is very close to the skin... but that's why Lavande de Haute-Provence also comes in a 300ml splash bottle. Perfect for reapplying generously from time to time.

No, this is not going to be an Indian story, although the scent has quite a bit of ambiance to offer for that.

Euphorium Brooklyn has already caught my attention positively more than twice; Wald and Cilice are great forest scents that, with their resin and wood components, fall perfectly into my taste profile, and if I weren't such a coward when it comes to international orders, both would probably already be in my collection. *sigh* The brand thus already has a sympathy point as a vote of confidence.

Suédois is clearly related in complexity and directness to the other two scents, even though it goes in a different direction. Suédois starts off dirty, really in-your-face dirty (to quote a well-known TV chef), leather, stable (but not a manure pile), and balsamic-dark labdanum wafts around my nose. For a moment, I find the scent piercing, almost unpleasant, but this phase is quite short, and the scent settles down a bit after just a few minutes.
Now I smell less stable and more like a warm animal body - perhaps a horse, as the leather note remains very present, like a saddled horse after a ride, because it smells warm, somewhat fresh and sweaty. Underneath lies patchouli, earthy, unsweet but not musty. This phase lasts about an hour before I notice another change.
Slowly, the scent brightens up, becomes softer, and gains a bright resin note, while a combination of wood and a bit of smoke also comes into play. The saddled horse is still there, but I can hardly perceive the patchouli now. This remains the case for the next three hours until the final phase arrives.
The interplay between dark and light now levels off somewhere in the middle; the patchouli is back, and all the other previously known notes now stand equally alongside each other. Suédois now feels full, (possibly vanilla-)creamy but becomes quite skin-close after about 4 hours.

What I cannot sniff out are the fruity notes of raspberry and grape or the wildflowers; anise and cardamom are also noticeably absent. But I don't miss them either. The delicate green tones of elemi and coumarin could have made an appearance, though. They don't really feel missing either; Suédois is so complex, and the resins and especially the leather at the forefront leave little room for delicate tones.

Woe betide you if you laugh at me - I can tell! And I become terribly... sad *sniff*
I have to confess something - among all my fragrances in the collection with their often poetic names, the expensive (or supposedly expensive) ingredients, the stylish bottles... which are sometimes not so budget-friendly (and which I all like very much), I have a secret passion for Wick Vaporup (and actually also for the old dark green, bath-tinting pine needle cold remedy from Aldi). However, as a daytime scent, it doesn't come off well - it gets annoying over time when everyone asks if you have a cold.

Here, chance or my eternal curiosity came to my aid:
I blindly dug out a leftover bottle of Humus, just a tiny bit left, perfect for satisfying my curiosity. Because I had no great expectations for the scent at all. How pleasant can mushrooms and rock be? And then the fragrance is called Humus... Who on earth wants to smell like that??

And then came the surprise:
Humus smells like Wick Vaporup and pine needle bath, along with a moist-warm birch infusion vibe from a Finnish sauna, complete with wooden benches. Underneath lies a deep, dark earthy note, with mineral sprinkles that smell almost cool in comparison. Over time, the scent becomes a bit softer, leaning more towards the forest than cold remedies. Fortunately, I don't perceive any mushrooms - while I do enjoy eating them, I don't need to smell like them.
The longevity and sillage are pleasantly good; even with a light application, it lasts 8 hours at a good arm's length. After about 4 hours, however, it becomes more intimate.

Since my leftover bottle is now empty, the scent is very high on my wish list. I need to get it again so that I can continue to smell secretly uncanny like Wick Vaporup in my everyday life :-D