If a scent could be sad, it would smell like this. It wails when you first put it on; there are echoes of Hand of Glory here, the decaying musk, almost sickly sweetness, of a human corpse. And they come out strongly on the first application; crying out for life.
This is not a cold scent – it is not deathly. It is a desperate clinging to life, warm evaporating from a body. It softens down beautifully, into a warm, soft amber scent – it glows golden, and lasts for hours. The more warmth you apply, the more it regenerates, and I can still smell my one application ten hours later. It doesn’t change a great deal, but in this case, it is so gentle that it doesn’t really matter.
My bottle is an old one, gifted from a friend, and I do not know how old it is. I would like to smell a new bottle to compare, because I feel like this is a smell which ages beautifully. It reminds me of old storage areas in the back of museums, where there are objects made of skin, and sweetly aged, incensed relics.
Disclaimer: I am not a perfume expert, nor am I sponsored by BPAL or, indeed, anyone.
To find the notes for these scents, click the link in the name.