it's nice (nice not being something i usually associate with a lutens perfume) when you want to wear something that is just a good smell, not a perfume. it's clean and musky in a not-too-warm way. it took me a while to make the connection, but what it reminds me of is etro's new tradition with the patchouli and musk (i don't get much incense or even iso e super.) i'll wear it, but more for what it isn't than for what it is.
love this, particularly the dry-down.
the trick is in DABBING this (sparingly) -- not spraying (which is entirely too much.)
kissing cousins with rochas femme -- so if you love the one, you will probably love the other.
i absolutely LOVE this perfume -- but not immediately.
at first i found it too sweet (i thought.)
but then it crept up on me -- and i could not stop sniffing my sleeve.
and then i bought some.
to me this is a pear and fig scent, actually.
with a true-pear blast at first, and a dry-down into the creamiest, loveliest fig.
i'm wearing this every day, pretty much (rare for me.)
i like this a lot.
unexpectedly, really, since ms. grojsman's creations are usually not among my faves.
but this is so nice that i would actually like to own a bottle.
whoever put those notes up there in the note pyramide must have been high, though.
this is all raspberry and chocolote and rose up top
then, as alaya says, TONS of ciste labdanum (and remnants of rose)
and that's pretty much it.
the musk, on me, never shows up, and i don't miss it either.
this is strangely non-sweet, red-fruity in a *dry* way, smoky in a wet way (as only labdanum can be) -- with this restrained rose in the background.
god, these notes are sad.
what has happened to perfumery?
who wants to even bother anymore?
this really does smell of freshly mown hay. specifically, it makes me think of a summer meadow in the early afternoon, the hay having dried for a few hours, not really fresh and green anymore, but not dried yet either -- that limp, damp, hay smell. *instant* transportation in time and space...mmmmmmmmmmm.........