Byrehoe

Pixelated creamsicle musk. Has the same static-y, almost buzzy quality as Angel Dust. A rare plush citrus, much like my beloved Loewe 001 Woman (a downy tangerine) – but much more lively and candy-toned, with a hint of bitter peel in the drydown. Heavyweight longevity, a rarity in the world of citrus. The spa lobby of the Amsterdam W is thick with this, and made my clothes smell of it for the days to follow, but I was not in the least displeased.

Mental Snapshot: DORFic aesthetics. iPod mini adverts. Neon honeycombs. The Cingular Wireless logo guy. A solarpunk utopia. The grooviest PowerPoint template you can think of. In orange, of course.

tl;dr: sci-fi Sunkist

This is the electric sheep androids must dream of. Sugar-pepper static. True neutral on the DnD alignment axis. A dry, clean musk that manages to come off both comforting and aloof. It smells like wool, if it came from a synthetic sheep. (Which is what I suppose cashmeran is). Sweet and sterile. I feel like I need to be wearing monochrome Jil Sander in this. It’s pleasantly uncanny, in the same vein as Ganymede or Ghost in the Shell. I get strong “computer air” and “fresh carpet” accords from this. Love a good liminal scent. Lasts days in fabric, too.

Mental Snapshot: A white noise machine purring in a whitewashed gallery. Yourself in head-to-toe white cashmere. You spill powdered sugar on virgin carpet. But in a purposeful, modern art kind of way. It’s a masterpiece.

tl;dr: white noise gourmand

Dew drops, lotus blossoms, shampoo-commercial hair. Cue the Tranquil Spa Graphics.™ To my nose AdG reads as a voluptuous, waxy water lily, with the faintest pinch of lime. Sadly, the mint is MIA. It feels like the calligraphic version of Light Blue, with its creamy florals and more whispery citrus. It’s Zoologist’s Cow, if it grazed solely at country clubs. It’s not my favourite shower scent, but there’s something undeniably soothing, almost hypnotising about it. A prime choice for misty day or zen night.

Mental Snapshot: Remember the Lunesta commercials where this luminous luna moth ghosts through the neighbourhood, magicking people to sleep? This smells like that very moth, floating through a white marble bathhouse.

tl;dr: good night lotus

A husky, peppery amber. Burnt sugar, wiry vetiver, desert air. And then woodsmoke, leather, myrrh. I get the “warm stone” texture. It’s a very fresh-outta-the-kiln kind of scent. Like basking upon sunbaked adobe or terracotta tiles. Feels related to Rhapsody in Mauve; Mauve being the Upper East Side fortune-teller (glamorous, mystical) and Mona being the Santa Fe pottery instructor (arid, earth goddess). It’s more mineral than Stora Skuggan’s Azalai and lighter than DvN’s Rock the Myrrh, but they’re all scent siblings. I wore this to a Clairo concert and two separate strangers told me I smelled “really, really good.”

Mental Snapshot: An Arch Digest home tour. Your home tour. A Midcentury beauty: redwood rafters, sandstone hearth, cactus garden. Can’t forget the conversation pit (olive velvet). Your library and vinyl collection are genuine, as is your love of limes. (Favourite drink: spicy paloma).

tl;dr: desert retreat treat

Sakura-pink and glutinous. A sugar-encrusted fruity-floral, thickened with pastry dough. Decidedly starchy. Mochi is apparently gluten free, but this does not feel like a gluten free scent. As with most D’Annams I’ve enjoyed, the opening is one of a kind, but the drydown fuzzes into something more akin to a scented candle. The sweetness level is perfect, though – somewhere between red bean paste and synthetic strawberry milk (my beloved).

Mental Snapshot: Cake in one hand, powder puff in the other. You’re eating your feelings in a Harajuku Purikura. And you look cute as hell.

tl;dr: adorable dumpling