The vials are from Pat of Olfactarama fame and the little bottles are from Mark known as Margin Perfumer (no website I'd know of. I asked Mark and he said he had none. I could try and search but first, he said he had none and I don't see a reason why not to trust him and second, I'm lazy).
I'll take the liberty to start with Mark's All the things (you are). I got a nice explanatory letter from Mark which lay on my table for two weeks, I re-read it many times and then I put it aside so that it wouldn't get stained by my endless cups of coffee and now I'm unable to find it. So, Mark said three noteworthy things: that the compositions are not necessarily to be considered finished, that large orders are welcome and that this one contains damascenones
So, it's musks and something green and rosy, with roses sans soap. I love roses as long as they are neither candy sweet nor soapy. I suppose I can say I love damascenones but I've never had the chance to meet one in pure form. Let's assume so.
The perfume is... well, I don't want to sound mean. It's like two perfumes put side to side. There's that musky base which reminds me of Annick Goutal's.... which one was that? searches frantically the samples at hand due to lack of willpower to stand up and go and look at the bottle which is three metres away yup, Encens Flamboyant which is glowing embers to me. All the things has this element, it's less of glowing embers and more of all-embracing warmth. Musks, those little buggers. And then there's another layer, separate and distinct, of not-exactly-roses. It might be roses but I'd have to go to the botanic garden to check which one exactly, it's not a generic rose. My synaesthetic brain bits now try to kick me in the shin by pusing an image of pink camelia in front of my eyes but... not that one either. A rose, that which just surrounds you on a dry cold morning. Not that sweet-smelling as the one at our porch. (2)
I'm somewhat inclined to say that this perfume needs to be worked on so that the two distinct qualities blend. Or communicate better, that's a more suitable description. But, before that, could I have a bottle, pretty please? Mark? Please? Because, I love it exactly as it is.
I'm afraid that I'm developing a depression. I might be more self-depreciating and, well, everything-depreciating than usual. Most likely, in the next few weeks before I resolve it somehow, I'll be writing about how crappy I feel and how the whole world sucks and that it's all my fault. I'll do my best to be civil. Have patience. No need to send booze and chocolate, I've lost my appetite too.
You were warned.
(1) I don't know what is this all about. I'm paraphrasing Mark who kindly sent me a copy of the accompanying letter, allowing me to correct my imprecise description.
(2) Dorinia by Firmenich. See above. Damn chemistry, it has totally different poetics than the everyday associations.