GlitterKitty

Unmistakably marshmallow, this is a sweet, creamy gourmand with lovely cozy vibes. I love that the marshmallow note is so immediately identifiable throughout the life of the scent and doesn't pull vanilla; it's a fun and more interesting twist on what could have easily been a cloying and obvious dessert gourmand. The green tea is buried under a thick layer of marshmallow fluff at first, but as the strongly saccharine open calms down a little, the sweet earthiness of matcha comes through and tempers all the sugar a little, with a hint of ginger spice.

The overall vibe here is sitting by a warm fire under a cuddly blanket and sipping a hot cup of tea with marshmallows (ignoring, of course, that marshmallows are not normally a tea thing!) It's candy-sweet and snuggles nicely into the skin, with its silage on the softer side of average, and would be a lovely scent for the holidays or the early, still-cold days of spring.

The opening is immediately sharp and a little overwhelming, with a strong silage; the pepper was extremely dominant, almost to the point I felt like sneezing, and it was hard to pick out much else other than a rather generic woodsy-cologne scent. Within a few minutes, it settled down and some of the more interesting notes began to peak through the wood and pepper -- the chamomile is very apparent and lends a bit of coolness to what is otherwise a very warming, spicy scent, and if I really search for it I can pick up on a little sweet orange.

The image this gives me is not quite chipmunk; it doesn't have the lightness and playfulness I associate with spry, little chipmunks. I picture something closer to Badger and Mole from Wind in the Willows -- they're tucking into their den to hibernate for the winter, dressed up in their wooly tweed jackets that smell heavily of spice and drinking a cup of chamomile tea. The scent is much heavier and more masculine than I was expecting and would prefer, and the longer it sits on me the more the patchouli and animalic notes start to come out, which I'm not a fan of and which I may have to wash off to avoid a headache. There's also a dusty note that makes it smell rather old, like my grandpa's house.

It's not an terrible scent, overall, just not one that I would wear. It's easily the least interesting of the Zoologist lineup that I've tried -- but for that reason, probably one of the easier blind buys, as long as you like spicy, woody scents. But for me, it's too generic cologne-y and the patchouli kills it in terms of wearability on my skin.

Cozy, creamy, but rather lacking in the lily of the valley department; there's a faint touch of floral, but overall this comes across as a very soft, lactonic gourmand on my skin. The silage is on the weaker side, but I can't say this is a terribly bad thing -- a strong milk scent could easily become unpleasant, so I don't mind that this settles pretty close to the skin. The scent definitely leans toward the synthetic, but again, not in a bad way. It gives condensed, sweetened milk vibes -- not as natural as normal milk, more of an artificially concentrated, sugarier version.

This is a pretty linear scent without much evolution; it smells basically the same a few hours in as it does at the start. Perhaps a little more of the floral starts peeking through, but as someone who grew up regularly smelling lily of the valley, I still wouldn't name that note without being told it was there. But it does have a warm, comforting familiarity to it in a way that brings me back to that much-loved flower even if I couldn't pick it out independently. The overall vibe is drinking warm, sugary milk while looking at my mom's garden full of lily of the valley, imagining the way they smell -- the direct floral isn't there, but the memory is.

The open is strongly baby powder — I almost thought I’d mistaken the decant for Love’s Baby Soft. But it quickly settles into a more mature (albeit still powdery) rose-water scent, with a touch of candied violet. It smells like vintage makeup, but in the most pleasant way — think a luxurious powderpuff, not lipstick. Not overwhelmingly floral, and the silage stays pretty close to the skin except for a soft whiff of rose now and then.

The fruit takes a bit longer to come out, it’s just an unplaceable sweetness at first — not raspberry, certainly, perhaps closer to cherry from the almond? But a bit longer in the almond becomes more distinct, lending a creaminess and sweet marzipan note, and hints of raspberry begin to peek through.

I disagree that this is a unisex scent; it’s moreso than I’d expect from a powdery rose-forward perfume, and the right man could certainly pull it off, but my overall impression is the old-school romanticism of a Hollywood starlet’s dressing room in the golden age of film — the soft floral of her powderpuff, the marzipan candies left by her adoring fans, the rosewater she uses to remove her makeup…

Overall, a lovely, vintage-feminine perfume with nice staying power. Nothing particularly unique or interesting, but it does a wonderful job of what it tries to be.

A bright, photorealistic mix of florals — like lying in a field of flowers. The honeysuckle notes are most obvious and instantly transport me back to childhood springs spent sucking nectar from their petals. I don’t get actual honey, though, or any of the fruit notes supposedly here, except a slight hint of pear and perhaps a touch of plum if I look for it. This is just layers and layers of flowers — the peony stands out, a little lilac, and the whiteness of lily of the valley (although without the realism of my favorite lily of the valley scent, Diorissimo.)

This is unabashedly girly and has a bit of a vintage soap vibe without coming across as actually soappy. It has touches of greenery, but is much whiter than Orchid Mantis, and with a softer base; amber and moss come across more than the musk, and this settles in much closer to the skin. This feels young, innocent, and nostalgic — like looking back on the best springtime of your life through rose-scented lenses.