Perfume Reviews

Reviews by gimmegreen

Total Reviews: 1283

Crimson Rocks by Amouage

Sun-baked rocks in the desert – yup, this perfume will probably recall them, what with its hugely heated-up cinnamon and honey overdose done in a parched and weathered style. Reinforcing that impression, there’s a tang of salt about it (possibly from the cedar) for a short while, reminiscent of dried sweat in an arid climate or organic matter left out in the blaze. Somehow the rose (apparently ‘two different and innovative extractions’ are used here) gets a bit lost in this power-play, robbed of much of its personality and relegated to offering just a sweet aspect at the start before coming a bit more into its own in the heart. This latter stage holds my interest the most as I have a soft spot for woody roses and here the expression is powdery but not in a manner of cosmetics, rather finely milled and engrained with wood dust, just how I like it. Even the honeyed spiciness abates a bit. But on the whole Crimson Rocks is a bit of a curate’s egg for me – good in parts. It feels a touch too dense and even brittle – like a spiced-up halva that has turned to rock after being left out too long.
There’s an invisible bar Amouage followers have in their minds, held in place by what they perceive as quality of ingredients, beauty of execution, fabulous drydowns, among other things. For me, Crimson Rocks, though unusual and with a personality all its own, almost touches it but not quite.
30th December, 2020

Le Fabuleux by Nejma

I was taken aback by Le Fabuleux. Its list of notes reads like a dream – lovely powdery dusky tones (carrot seed, iris, violet, musk mallow) spiked with intriguing, contrasting punchy accents (angelica, cherry, licorice) all sitting atop a classic creamy-animalic base. But what emerged upon spraying was a fermented woods rendition of oud, frisky and handsome for sure, but a completely different beast to what I was expecting. With time it got increasingly peppery and smoky with a hint of sandalwood in the base and a daub of smudgy iris, before the entrance of a leather basenote that seemed to mark journey’s end. I’m completely at peace with how it smells (I enjoy funky ouds), but still scratching my head over that notes list.
30th December, 2020

Zeta by Morph

Hoo boy, the PR people at Morph have been chewing some weird baccy. Here’s their proclamation on Zeta: ‘Primordial source of life, epiphany of beauty. Deep, dark, mysterious, fascinating. Soul of the universe itself. Zeta is the gash in the plot of existence. The birth of everything and the end of everything, free from the reins of time, its whims and its crazy ravings.’ Etc.
How does this cosmic convulsion translate as perfume? As pretty much a Baccarat Rouge clone, right down to the whiff of iodine blowing through it. I am not a fan of BR and the whole inbred clan of sickos it has spawned, but I have to admit that this take is an improvement. It goes easy on the sweeties, has a softer, cuddlier approach unlike BR’s pvc-bootied talon queen tantrums, and just seems to hang together better. The sirens and flashing lights have died down here; Zeta is safe to walk down the street.
30th December, 2020
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Rose Orage by Chabaud Maison de Parfum

Oh dear god, this is supposed to be a rose. All that’s checking in with my poor nostrils is, at first, a kind of spicy, vaguely floral sawdust, and then, a gassy, industrial cleaner ‘fresh’ odour with clashing skin-like musks. About the only properly realized note in this wreck is nutmeg and that does not a perfume make. I was beginning to get the impression that Chabaud represented ho-hum niche, but Rose Orage proves they can descend further.
30th December, 2020

Orangerie Musicale by Chabaud Maison de Parfum

Refreshing, well-executed, juice-drenched opening, in which the main orange blossom theme is swept in on a rush of orange and bergamot – familiar things but it’s all in the delivery, which is better than the average cologne. However the law of averages does win out when the orange blossom settles into its starring spot – there are so many such summery scents about that distinguishing between them can be bit of a much of a muchness. Still, this is clean and direct and smells close to nature, which may be quite enough for many.
30th December, 2020

Île Mythique by Chabaud Maison de Parfum

Chabaud’s Île Mythique is a cough drop. A compressed little thing featuring a shot of star anise reinforced with sweet resins and dried herbal and spice accents, it feels completely medicinal. It’s odd and pushes the boundary of what might conceivably be called a perfume. There’s no gesture towards balance or harmony – it feels like something dished out from an indie perfumer’s slop pot. With time it begins to develop a more ambery character, but that star anise stays out there front of stage making a scene for quite a while. And then, about four or five hours into the wear, all the elements settle and this becomes a warm, sun-dappled amber oriental, its oddness evaporating into beauty.
So if you can bear smelling like something lost in grandpa or grandma’s pocket for the first few hours, then there are more conventional rewards awaiting.
30th December, 2020

Caprice de Sophie by Chabaud Maison de Parfum

Piddling, watery fruity-floral, almost completely indistinct – sure there’s something citrusy in here and a freesia-like note but they’re done in the manner of the most mass market shampoo scent imaginable. Underlying it all is the by now (after having tried a string of their perfumes) immensely annoying Chabaud base – a kind of beige skin musk with siftings of flour that tends to be the first thing that assails the nose before dying back. Venture here only if mediocrity is your bag.
30th December, 2020

Umhh by Morph

Ostensibly this offering is supposed to be a harmony of four ‘precious woods’, part of Morph’s attempt-to-go-upmarket range of ‘Les Exclusifs’ Extraits de Parfum. I tried checking for notes on the brand’s website but my antivirus protection blocked it. But here’s their priceless PR guff: ‘Concrete obsession of the senses. Unstoppable, primitive and tangible sensuality. Pure extract of life, a mix of precious woods aimed at enhancing the most rebellious character.
‘The words of the perfumer
‘"Four woody notes cold extracted, a clever mixture of almost mystical elements that blend giving life to something mystical, a unique result!"’
Well, knock me down with a feather, they could have fooled me. What emerges is a delicate, floral-water-meets-baby-lotion concoction which has a kind of nursery appeal: it’s non-threatening and comforting. Any woody notes are traces – a kind of wispy sandalwood aromachemical seems to put in a token appearance. I’m baffled by this misdirection when Morph have a fine and underrated rugged woods creation in Nudo – a perfume I’d recommend to all fans of butch woodies (oo-er!) to try. Having said that it’s a gentle, silky thing, mainly synthetic for sure, but with a powder-puff soft musky presence that will appeal on those wallflower days when a Marie biscuit dipped in milk tastes like manna.
23rd December, 2020

Rose J by Morph

A well-balanced juxtaposition of a juicy, syrupy rose against the dryer palette of incense smoke and a car-exhaust-and-petroleum oud construct. That’s pretty much it, and the similarity to other such rose-oud pairings is immediately apparent. But the contrast here is sharper: the boldness of the smoky elements sets off beautifully the plush and indulgent rose. This may be a story you have heard before, but this version of the tale is compelling enough to demand that you listen again. But as the hours go by and the rose and the woody, smoky notes mesh together much more, the rose eventually turning to potpourri petals, that distinctiveness wears off somewhat, too. Now it’s a story that could have been told by a Montale or a Dueto as much as by a Morph.
22nd December, 2020

Le Mysterieux by Nejma

Nejma perfumes are often compositions of complex chords where the individual notes can get subsumed to serve a greater harmony. This is also true of Le Mysterieux, which, living up to its name, is not easy to grasp.
At the heart of the composition seems to be a juxtaposition between an earthy, bitter strain (vetiver and perhaps wormwood as well) that dims the lights, providing the shade for other elements to gleam from, and a very moreish dried-fruit-and-cocoa gourmand strain that has little in common with the braindead sugariness usually on offer. Fruity, ripe tobacco tones interplay with ambery glints and the comforting, somewhat enclosed scent of old wood. Nejma’s mystery is dark, shapes loom in it somewhat undefined, but it is also soft, warm and welcoming.
I was immediately attracted to Le Mysterieux, but there are shortcomings. I wish it projected a bit better to bring up its appealing textures. Also, its active life seems to be around the 3-4 hour mark, after which a kind of generic tobacco-infused sweetness creeps over it pulling it into more mundane territory.
22nd December, 2020

Coffee Break : Golden Dallah by Xerjoff

I approached Golden Dallah with some hesitation as I’m not a coffee person – the stuff makes me nauseous and its aroma I find little better. Add hot spices on top and I’m even less inclined. But fortunately, Golden Dallah is first and foremost an amber oriental; the coffee note is well submerged in the mix and given a nice hazelnut twist, which tames it and makes it more companionable. The volley of spices are delivered in a genteel, herbal, almost barbershop manner, providing uplift to the more traditional gourmand notes – coffee, cocoa, tonka, hazelnuts – rather than weighting them down.
The quality I appreciate most about Golden Dallah is that it wears its richness lightly; it’s not oppressive, rather there’s a sunny, balmy quality about the experience of this perfume. It remains refreshing despite being a calorie bomb, deploys gourmand notes without turning into dessert; that, in my book, is perhaps as close as one gets to having one’s cake and eating it.
Lasts for days on end on clothes and, surprisingly, improves with age, showing its oudy side.
22nd December, 2020

Nejma 3 by Nejma

My initial impression of this one was that it was a sub-Montale rose-and-oud banger in the clean musky style, without the darkness of patchouli to give it a bit of gravitas. It seemed there was little about it to justify the Nejma price tag. But as it began to settle, it grew in charm. The rose that had at first seemed a bit characterless – a big sweet blob – came into its own, growing softer, yet somehow retaining its power, a raspberry fruitiness evident in its scent profile, nicely matched by a dab of bitter moss. The ‘oud’ retreated to a more subtle woody background hum which seemed suitable in order to give the rose its space. Nejma 3 is breaking no new ground, but sometimes that isn’t needed if the end result is pleasurable. It also gets noticed – ‘That’s nice perfume you’re wearing,’ said a friend who is usually indifferent to such things.
22nd December, 2020

Blanc Poudre by Heeley

I like a powder blizzard, obliterating detail, layer on layer of defacing white – this is the place of beginnings, the starting point of fantasy. Or if that sounds too pseud, at least such powdery things have an infantile appeal – smelling, as they often do, of baby products. Heeley’s blank canvas reveals a hint of mauve, with ozonic violets forming the first impression, before powdered blanched almonds, bleached vanilla and rice also register. Blanc Poudre makes me think of a stainless steel steam iron poised above a freshly laundered garment – it will lower, smooth out those creases, and this delicate clean, cool perfume will rise as reward.
Needless to say, this is only worth a visit if white musks and powdery perfumes are your thing. If they are, then Blanc Poudre is a perfume of great subtlety with its own quiet rewards. My main complaint is that, while it is long lasting, it dives to a skin scent quite rapidly.
22nd December, 2020
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Silver Wood by Korloff

I toyed with the mildly saucy notion of calling this one ‘spicy man juice’ but ultimately decided it was one of those offerings that had me heading straight towards the destination marked ‘review fail’ – ie so middle of the road that it becomes nigh impossible to write interestingly about how unremarkable it is.
So, the bare bones – bold upfront spice mainly nutmeg and cinnamon, backed with nondescript woody aromachemicals with a bit of lavender freshness trying to make itself known in the middle distance. There’s a smear of something fruity in the mix which the notes inform me is fig but it just adds density rather than the twist one is hoping for. Done to death and will only thrill if you are a fan of butch spice.
22nd December, 2020

Tanagra by Violet

Gentle lipstick iris carried on a puff of laundry musk. Hints of lemony freesia, some springtime freshness, enter dancing in the mid-section accompanied soon after by a tannic slightly bitter black tea impression. At first I thought it was a bit of a simpleton but it grew on me particularly the floral brightness at its heart. An ideal office scent: light, pleasant, uplifting, one to be worn without a second thought.
22nd December, 2020

Thé Darbouka by L'Orchestre Parfum

My cup having filleth over with disappointing tea perfumes of late – why are so many so damn screechy with none of the smoke and bitters I long for? – I approached this fantasy tea with some small hope. Maybe, just maybe, something that wasn’t claiming to be the real thing had a better chance of surprising me. But nope.
A curious souk-visiting beginning where the sour-sweet odour of dried fruit mingled with vague spiciness and incense soon began to fade into a rather sickly, synthetic amber made no more attractive by back-of-throat pepper. The pepper didn’t hang around for long but then a lifeless, dusty woods base became evident which could be discounted as an improvement. Stuff like this is niche that isn’t even bothering to try: it’s thin, not particularly pleasant and fades from the memory like a random postal code.
22nd December, 2020

Varanasi by Meo Fusciuni

Varanasi Meo Fusciuni
It’s safe to say that Varanasi is Meo Fusciuini’s oud – and what an oud it is. Ushered in on a singing shop-fresh leather note, it is effulgent and diffusive, unrolling a vista of aged woody tones, touched here by an earthy bitterness, there by a hint of distant flowers (a passerby with a string of jasmine and rosebuds in their hair), accents of soapy cardamom turning into warm clove and incense, the entire shifting sense of scent impressions seemingly on a journey.
Having grown up in India, I’m skeptical of the wide-eyed tourist’s impression of the country’s holy sites, where the search for the spiritual is forced to rub shoulders with brash god-related commerce. But Imprezzabile acknowledges Varanasi (the city after which this perfume is named) as a juxtaposition of the ‘sacred and the profane’, calling it a non-place, and there is that sense of great amalgamation and outward flow to this offering. Varanasi is famously the place where religious Hindus would choose to die, with multiple cremations carried out on the banks of the river Ganges every day, the ashes and flowers scattered upon its waters, which are pure in the minds of the devout, polluted by any scientific measure. Imprezzabile’s conception of water, so central to Varanasi’s identity, is of it ‘flowing in the bowels of the earth, touching the roots of everything’ – and this sense of fragrant water filtered through dark, unknown, buried things comes through in this perfume.
Beautiful. The only thing that slightly detracts from this perfume, in my opinion, is its resemblance to Nishane’s Musiqa Oud in the late stages, after about a couple of hours have passed and the stream of impressions slows down and settles.
09th December, 2020

Spirito by Meo Fusciuni

An impeccably arrayed green fougère with a sweet woody backdrop, Spirito is a breath of freedom in a pretty restricted grouping. The thing has impressive depth, playing off the light breezy meadow notes – delicate angelica, smooth chamomile, a mélange of herbs – against both greenish and richer woods and with a nice seesaw balance of citruses up top (they aren’t mentioned in the declared notes but seem to be present to my nose) and sweet and dark patchouli and tonka tones below.
Meo Fusciuni seems to be bringing genuinely interesting things to the perfumery table but, alas, at a price point aiming for the well-heeled.
09th December, 2020

Annone by Pantheon Roma

Gale-force disinfected hospital corridor ‘oud’ (a near cousin of Piguet’s Oud) with some screechy citrus up top and fruit gum sweetness beneath. Full spectrum and full on for sure but to little obvious reward. Later on a touch of pepperiness creeps in – not an improvement.
09th December, 2020

Così Blu by Pantheon Roma

Così Blu may have an apothecary’s cupboard full of ingredients according to its declared notes list, but the overriding impression is of a youthful, sappy incense in the opening and heart stages which then has a drier, somewhat woodier settle. The smoke and singlemindedness is accented mainly by an impression of something freshly cut at the start, a touch of pepperiness and a glimpse of sandalwood in the background. The wormwood note of absinthe is cured and cloaked in the incense, and I wondered whether giving it freer rein would have opened up the composition a bit more. Nice, but ultimately one for the incense purists.
09th December, 2020

Mudéjar by Majda Bekkali

A spa perfume with a shaded poolside quality, all freshly laundered towels, tall plants (plastic, but still impressive) and a pervading clean – even aseptic – aesthetic. Mudejar is a woody-spicy thing with a citrus top, but here the pepper is numbed and cool, and the experience of wearing it is suitably akin to the pale blue colour of the juice – chilled and just a touch clinical.
I can’t say the materials are making any play for greatness but the overall effect, while sticking to the genre parameters, is decidedly atypical, an oddness that holds my interest.
09th December, 2020

Ziryab by Majda Bekkali

A perfume to focus the mind – Ziryab is an understated but beautifully realized meditation on all things related to wood. From the lovely, gently sweet, almost sappy qualities of just chopped wood, to the drier, sharper notes of old shavings, to the enduring cool-warm fragrant mystery of wood mould recalling years of growth and bearing witness, and even the smokiness of an agarwood agarbathi. All underlaid with a subtle peppery spice and hints of leather introduced so deftly that they could all be part of the woody tones.
Ziryab is a perfume of undulations, the impressions of its transparent tulip top note superseded by wave upon gradual wave of woody associations. It makes no knock-out statement, but it will grow on you and become a friendly presence you seek out if you give it the time and space it requires.
09th December, 2020

Fresh Oud by Rosendo Mateu Olfactive Expressions

Fermented, cheesy oud with nuances of leather, the kind of smell that ought to be disgusting but instead exerts a car-crash fascination, ringed with bright citrus and with a backing of muted mixed florals. This is the kind of creation that feels akin to some of the fresher offering of Middle Eastern brands and the drydown makes everything much calmer, more bakhoor-like and introduces touches of discreet spice. However, the asking price would get you two bottles of Montale’s hypnotic and much more expressive Aoud Cuir d’Arabie, with change to spare.
09th December, 2020

Sweet Rose by Rosendo Mateu Olfactive Expressions

Expecting a fruity rose from the declared notes, I was deflated to experience instead essence of boiled sweet (the red coloured ones that are supposed to taste of raspberries but usually have a nature-distant flavour all their own). This isn’t even jammy; it’s just synthetically flavoured boiled sweets, plus plenty of that candy floss stuff that clogs up most gourmands these days and then some rose struggling to express itself through those heavy drapes. All that with a firm woody backstop, which comes across more like an oud aromachemical rather than the cedar and sandalwood professed by the brand. Subtle or balanced it ain’t, but I find its trashy aesthetic (unintentional, I’m sure, as this stuff has aspirational pricing) has a certain chubby-kid-gorging-sweeties appeal.
09th December, 2020

Musc Oud Maharaja by Auphorie

Sweet honey in ferment, Musc Oud Maharaja’s opening walks right through that door marked ‘Gorgeous’. It’s a shimmer of a thing, a light trickle of sweetness like the most special floral honey variants that bring to mind words like ‘nectar’ with just the right tiny dose of something slightly sour, a fermented quality that gives it lift. The woody notes are permeated with this elixir, registering like shavings of highly scented areca nut that are widely enjoyed across the Indian subcontinent – it’s an odour rush, an olfactory high. This burnished combination of elements is backed by the lovely musk variant familiar from Auphorie’s stellar Mayura.
A surprisingly comfortable perfume, warm, indulgently sweet in the Auphorie manner and without any rough edges. Auphorie’s vegan recreation of deer musk is striking, and MOM is full of Eastern promise in the attar style – effortlessly folding in the honeyed florals and intoxicating yet mellow woody notes into the embrace of the musk. It’s a much more straightforward composition than we are used to from Auphorie, but who needs complexity when the harmony of the three main chords is so striking.
06th December, 2020

Meander by Amouage

I have been circling around Meander for a few days, summoning up my nerve to try it, now that Amouage is under new creative direction. I fell in love with the house when the classic perfumes that made its name were all that were available. Then, there was a major adjustment to Christopher Chong’s wayward path, which sometimes threw up a gem like Fate Woman, intriguing Myths and Imitations, but also unbelievably ugly things like Sunshine Woman and some of the Secret Garden offerings that were best forgotten. Now Renaud Salmon is in the driving seat – affable and responsive on the forums (he revealed who the nose behind Dia Man was [ole Bertie ‘I’ll take the gig, if you’ve got the dosh’ Duchaufour] – a question that had nagged me for years), but also new. And it was that newness that was spooking me. Weird, as I’ll gladly snort up all kinds of high concept niche folderol with an open mind. But feel fiercely protective of the house that gave me the joys of both Golds, Jubilations, Ubar, Dia Man…
However,… on to Meander, which is the first perfume of the Renaissance collection that I’ve tried. And on one front at least I feel instantly comforted: the materials used here smell just as refined and rich as expected. At first sight, it looks like corners are not being cut.
The perfumer Mackenzie Reilly’s statement talks of her intention to ‘paint a contradiction between lush green vegetal notes and warm dry desert dust’. The execution, however, reveals the balance tilted more towards the drier side. With the signature Amouage frankincense singing out at the start, the perfume enters into an interplay of quite shadowy green notes (a little reminiscent of Memoir Man – but from a great distance), with a creamy fatty central statement that seems equal parts carrot and orris but also an almost coconutty sandalwood, all being gently fumigated by the incense and a touch of cypriol. The raiment of Meander is undoubtedly fine and that pleases me greatly, but the perfume’s evolution is a touch too rapid for my taste, moving towards the sandalwood becoming the overriding theme and all the other points of interest (there’s a cameo role offered to narcissus) remaining more in the nature of garnishes. I wish it had lived up to its name and taken its time, rather than getting to the point in such a haste. Many hours in, when the perfume wears close to the skin, a sourish vetiver, à la Timbuktu, joins the remnants of the sandalwood. Lasts forever. On balance, Meander does not convince me of Amouage’s renaissance – I found it an easy wear, but it didn’t light a fire. Now to try the other offerings…
04th December, 2020 (last edited: 08th December, 2020)

Lignum Vitae by Beaufort London

I’ve come across quite a few cookie jar fragrances in niche land recently – or to be more precise an accord that a kind of gourmand roasted flour with a touch of butteriness to it. There must be an aromachemical I have no knowledge of behind this effect, but it does have the tendency of pretty much taking over the composition. Lignum Vitae is in that line of perfumes but is quite the most accomplished I’ve smelled so far. It holds together a variety of disparate impressions that one feels shouldn’t belong together quite happily in its cookie-cut universe.
The biscuit here is bone dry, stingy on the butter, like the ‘glucose’ biscuits I used to be given as a kid that made me reach for a glass of water. But here it’s lifted by lemon accents. More remarkable is a marine whirl that accompanies the top – which brain paired biscuits and aquatics together? It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. And then it moves beyond, the wave washing out, and lovely juniper and ginger flash among the impressions, there is reassurance from vanilla and woody notes – this is a gent in a high-end barbershop being served a biscuit with his hot cuppa. A perfume to relax into.
04th December, 2020

Empressa by Penhaligon's

Forget all notes, we are in the auto-tuned realms of fruity-floralism at its most generic with Empressa. Everything morphs and warps to sing a time-stretched song that comes across like some AI version of olfactory Enya. It’s pinky, peachy, fresh, a touch aquatic, sweet but cultivated about it, a touch fruitier than it is floral… but ultimately resembling liquid hand-wash. The best thing about it is a certain juiciness that holds the interest for a fleeting moment. Pass.
04th December, 2020

Night Veils : Tobacco Mandarin by Byredo

Tobacco Mandarin seems like it was designed to be misunderstood, as neither of the things in its name really play a starring role – cue disappointed emojis from people after a sumptuous tobacco lifted by a sweet-tart mandarin note. Nope, not on offer here.
Instead this is a perfume in debt to the spice bazaar legacy of some early Serge Lutens offerings. A bold, somewhat uncompromising charge of cumin – though nowhere near as dirty as in some musky cumin bombs that will here remain nameless – bolstered by lovely smoky incense and an oud note in the dry and peppery style make up its central harmony, one I was surprised to find myself enjoying despite my usual caution around spicy-resinous orientals. Here everything seems to sit right, the cumin integrated in the blend, neither the ambery base nor the oud taking over as is their usual wont, with the smoke drifting like a unifying thread through the whole thing. The background cast of other spices, resins, leathery and tobacco notes provide subtle, quiet support. The sillage reveals a mellow fruitiness, a bit like candied citrus peel, that the wearer might not perceive on their person. In the later stages the woody-smoky theme is much more evident with the spiciness dialed back, but it seems well thought out rather than the more usual by-numbers fallback of so many modern drydowns.
Undoubtedly a perfume for cold weather, but one that provides a welcome warmth rather than a blast furnace.

04th December, 2020

Chypre Palatin by MDCI

Chypre Palatin plays that old school trick of great compression, each element pressed and concentrated like dried fruit, which then minute by minute opens up into a creation of great sensuality. While it has the complexity of bygone chypres, it can’t quite achieve their bedrock mossiness, probably due to regulatory restrictions. This will only bother people who take their oak moss very seriously; the rest of us can just delight in this gorgeous creation which makes the best imaginary good old days come alive.
To remark on Chypre Palatin’s three tier structure is to state the obvious – the candied citrus, herbal notes and spring florals up top, the heart of unctuous richness where floral notes are expressed as precious essences rather than with any verisimilitude to living blossoms, and, underlying it all, a base of shimmering resins, moss and vanilla-infused woods. It’s the magic of their interplay that beguiles. The wearer feels bathed in things that are not mentioned in the pyramid at all – golden, radiant saffron, a hypnotic sweet animalic muskiness. And all the while those amazing florals – as though ascetics who had spent a lifetime in isolation learning the craft were distilling the most precious nectar in their single-minded pursuit – paired with the twinkling powdery, resinous base. This is where the garden of earthly delights interzones with zannat.
21st November, 2020