Viridescent
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No Lies Here, The Cake is Creamy AF
Sweet vanilla cake and fluffy whipped cream are layered, topped with fresh strawberries, a drizzle of caramel, and a sprinkling of pistachio crumble.
If this were an actual cake, I’d definitely get it for my birthday—but as a fragrance, it’s just as satisfying.
It opens with a slightly bitter pistachio note before shifting into a sweet, milky heart of whipped cream and juicy strawberries. As it develops, indulgent accords of chocolate, caramel, butter and coconut emerge, adding richness without feeling too heavy. The base of vanilla, oud, and woods gives just the right amount of depth, keeping the sweetness balanced and adding a refined touch.
Creamy AF is soft, luscious, and decadently lactonic—a scent that lingers like the last bite of the perfect dessert.
If this were an actual cake, I’d definitely get it for my birthday—but as a fragrance, it’s just as satisfying.
It opens with a slightly bitter pistachio note before shifting into a sweet, milky heart of whipped cream and juicy strawberries. As it develops, indulgent accords of chocolate, caramel, butter and coconut emerge, adding richness without feeling too heavy. The base of vanilla, oud, and woods gives just the right amount of depth, keeping the sweetness balanced and adding a refined touch.
Creamy AF is soft, luscious, and decadently lactonic—a scent that lingers like the last bite of the perfect dessert.
Smoke Beneath the Garden’s Pavilion
A simple breakdown of notes does not do this fragrance justice. Portrait of a Lady evokes the image of rain on roses, damp ground, and incense smoke rising.
The rain falls softly, beading on rose petals, slipping into the cracks of dry soil, carrying the scent of something long-awaited through the air.
A wet rose garden on a cloudy day, parched earth exhaling the scent of petrichor. Under the pavilion, a wisp of incense drifts upward, spiced and resinous against the damp air. You sit beneath the cover, hands cradling a cup of berry tea, its tart warmth mingling with the scent of resin, roses and rain.
The rain lingers, unhurried, settling into the roots. The air hums with quiet relief.
The rain falls softly, beading on rose petals, slipping into the cracks of dry soil, carrying the scent of something long-awaited through the air.
A wet rose garden on a cloudy day, parched earth exhaling the scent of petrichor. Under the pavilion, a wisp of incense drifts upward, spiced and resinous against the damp air. You sit beneath the cover, hands cradling a cup of berry tea, its tart warmth mingling with the scent of resin, roses and rain.
The rain lingers, unhurried, settling into the roots. The air hums with quiet relief.
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