Review by minkymaid
Like a rich fruit cake; where the weight of spices and dried fruit and time passing has rendered any former sweetness into a bitter dark memory, yet you believe it must be sweet because it's still called 'cake'. This is a nighttime rose, an essence left in the barrels once the girly happy fruity summery roses have been distilled away and forgotten. Under the rose lurks a morbid patchouli that twists the rose into to a not quite so nice graveyard sweetness, the oakmoss and spices adding to the earthiness. I also get licorice and dry incense. My husband thinks this is a great chypre, I find it unsettling and on the edge of nauseous. This doesn't make it bad, just not for me.

