merrivane

I've been wanting something creamy and cozy but also not as sweet as say, Phlur Heavy Cream or 7 Virtues buttercream frosting. I dismissed this perfume on the strip for being too sugary, but wow was I wrong. 5 minutes on the wrist and the green tea note comes out, rounding things out very nicely.

The matcha -- unbrewed, straight from the tin -- has a dusty quality which blends well with the marshmallow musks to create a sort of baby powder effect, nostalgic and comforting. Musky, sweet, lactonic and just a little earthy: what's not to love? It's easy to adore.

Genuinely fascinating fragrance. I was very intrigued by the "smelling cold" aspect of the marketing and y'all, they actually nailed it.

The minty opening smells just like pulling a bag of frozen mango chunks from my freezer, perhaps slightly sweeter, but the real genius I feel is the eucalyptus and black pepper. Those two do ALL the herbal heavy lifting to keep the mango from smelling like your generic gummy or vape by dialing down the sweetness. You're muddling a mango mojito but that mango is bitter and green.

Unfortunately the intervening notes last only halfway through the drydown: in the last few hours the mango thaws into something more artificial and creamy, like a lotion you bought at the corner store next to the tropical car air fresheners. Not unbearable, but nowhere near as cool.

Tried Tacit, Above Us, Hwyl and this perfume on strips in store and liked this one the best: it's the most freshly green and least bitter of them all, but still brings in the strong resinous woody body that the house is known for. I find some similarities between the solemnity of this arboreal drydown and Hywl's no-nonsense Hinoki opening.

On skin, it ripens into an earthy and herbal infusion of dried tea leaf and powdered resin -- if there is any fig there, my skin may have eaten it. In fact, I would say the lack of immediate sweetness is the fragrance's hallmark. Peppery mastic provides a bit of a lift and kick, but this perfume, aside from a stringent citrus note in opening, seem to exude the weighted seriousness of firm, sun-baked ground -- it gets you rather up close and personal with the weight of the dry soil and the lone tree dotted with hardened sap, and bitter, oversteeped thermos brews. I liked it better on paper than on myself, as the fruitiness brings some much needed levity to this strident salt-of-the-earth complexity.

3.5 hours later and it's only a vague whisper of tea and woods, generically spa against my wrist.

Evocative of the nicest, most picturesque forest you've ever met, like a frame in a ghibli movie with golden light slanting between evergreen needles. I wouldn't say it's entirely realistic -- there's not enough dirt and mud and decay -- but it's plush and wooded and lovely.

Unfortunately, along with the blast of cypress in the opening (and it is a blast, those nozzles dispense quite liberally) comes what I can only vaguely identify as a screechy musky unpleasantness that eluded paper testers but bloomed on skin. There might be something about Lush body sprays that just do not work with my chemistry (I encountered a similar problem with the opening of 25:43). Thankfully the drydown (a rather soft sandalwood-oakmoss classic) was unaffected. I'd advise everyone to test on skin before buying.

Glorious herbal symphony of an opening, like fresh-picked mint stems arranged in a vase of sugar water. Lavender, thyme and tarragon lend a nice earthiness and saves it from toothpaste associations. I suspect the lavender also contributes some sweetness, as this is not a sharp, menthol-laden mint at all -- more a sweetly, gently clean iteration as at home in a perfume bottle as in an air freshener aerosol can.

Sadly, the dry-down turns entirely soapy on me -- a nuclear combination of irish spring and dove. I haven't tried the shower gel in the series, but I imagine that it is entirely appropriate for a well-loved bath product. Word is that the original body spray is meant to provide a scent refresh between showers, like an eau de clean if you will. While I admire the innovation and artistry, I would really just prefer to shower for the same effect.