This is a fabulous scent, rich, heady, and complex. I love how it opens with a rush of exotic botanicals and then settles into a floral and musk fragrance with slight indole and wood overtones. I typically eschew musk scents, finding the animalistic base scent disagreeable, but Musc Botanique carries non of this off-putting odor. It wears well and does not become stale or fetid.
This fascinating scent contains no actual musk. Alexandra Balahoutis used botanical molecules that closely resemble those in musk, to create a "botanical musc", which is meant to communicate the sexual essence of plants. As you can see from the other reviews, the musk is quite convincing; people feel very strongly that there is musk in this perfume.
I love this, as I do love all of Balahoutis's perfumes. Many of them are not "easy", but they are really interesting and evocative to wear.
For me, Musc Botanique is very sensual and aphrodisiac, something I would wear for a hot date. It writes stories in my mind immediately, and opens doors to ways of being i don't usually experience. I become more feminine, more flirtatious. The geranium opens up the amber and frankincense adds a slightly medicinal bite in the beginning, which quickly mellows out. There is something reminiscent of Damiana, an aphrodisiac herb, though it is not used in the blend.
It's captivating and exciting.
I love Musc Botanique. It's one of those rare fragrances that makes me feel like I'm radiating a magical glow. It goes beyond wearing a nice scent, to causing a chemical reaction that elevates my imagination; maybe it stimulates dopamine... It simply smells beautiful. I love, love musk, but I'm picky about my musks, and this is one of my favorites. Maybe even my favorite. Fresh, yet warm, sexy, not sweaty, gentle, and unisex; and best of all it's got je ne sais quoi that all SIP fragrances possess. The SIP "Guerlainade", I suppose, and I've come to adore it. Strange Invisible Perfumes continue to intrique me, because they always wind up being "more" than I could ever expect. Upon application of several of these concoctions, initially I've thought, "Who would WEAR this?"; only to find myself mesmerized within minutes. Strange Invisible Perfumes are esoteric, which, for me, makes them special. They demand that you analyze them, experience them, and feel them. You cannot apply them as an afterthought as you're running out the door...If you try, within a couple of minutes, you'll find yourself stunned into motionlessness, while you're transported into an olfactory vortex. Next thing you know, you'll be writing a rambling, somewhat incoherent review on Basenotes, because you want everyone who cares to know how incredible you smell. How deeply you're affected. So, again, I really love Musc Botanique. Try it, if you like vortexes. But don't say I didn't warn you. (And, if you're really, really brave, do try Magazine Street and Narcotic. You'll never be the same.) There are still many fragrance lovers who haven't experienced the amazing perfumes being created by natural perfumers. If you're one of us life-as-olfactory-experience people, order samples from Ayala Moriel and Strange Invisible Perfumes right now. Now. (I'm not affiliated with either company, but, for purely personal reasons, I hope to smell more of both lines, everywhere.) I don't remember where I was supposed to be running off to today, but I have a feeling I'll wind up in Venice, at Strange Invisible Perfumes!
Upon application this has a sharp, minty or medicinal smell, which tones down quite quickly and mellows into a sweetish, i think sandalwood and musky scent.
Later on the sandalwood (i think) dies down and the musk seems to develop a little more bite.
The fragrance doesn't project a long way, I have to almost put my nose to my skin to detect it, but it lasts at that low volume for many hours.
Neither offensive or pleasant in my opinion.
I get a lotta "musc", very little "botanique." Let's say I slept with someone who hadn't showered, but who smelled sexy when I was drunk. I get home and take a four-hour nap. I pick up last night's clothes clothes from the rumpled in a pile on the floor. On the way to the hamper I pass a spoiled gardenia.
Hang on-that sounds like something I'd love...but it's just a florist wearing musk. Crap-that sounds like I'd love it too....