In bottle: Striking in a dry way. Not particularly sweet. Paper and salt I can imagine being part of this, but also a softer, fresher something that is almost like grass—probably the sage. An almost-but-not-quite smoky quality that could definitely be the burning of sage.
Wet on skin: Something with a bit of heat is emerging. This is still almost pungent, but not unattractively so. There is a kind of antiquey dry quality that could be compared to old books—the “very fancy library” of the description. Still not very sweet. Could definitely be a unisex fragrance. Distinctive.
Starting to dry down: I think I’m getting the very faint presence of lime, adding to the piquancy/pungency. I think the hint of honey is the tiny bit of warmth I get. It’s complex and developing some depth and more intensity. I can imagine this being devastating on the right man. The faint bite of salt makes me think he’d be a bit jaded and cynical.
Yet there’s something kind of classic here—it’s becoming quite elegant in its austere way. I think that burning note is emerging more, giving it a slightly spicy feel—or is that creosote? Later dry-down: Has terrific throw, asserts itself even more strongly. The salt is definitely still present, as is the papery quality; the burning note has receded a little but still hovers. A couple of hours later the honey comes to the fore a little bit more to soften it a smidge. This has great lasting power.
Verdict: This is dramatic, intriguing, and so different from any perfume I’ve encountered before. It’s not exactly a welcoming or friendly fragrance, but it’s got an attractive bracing quality nonetheless, especially if you like saltier, drier, unconventional fragrances. I can’t quite figure out what mood it evokes in me, besides independence; this isn’t a fragrance that welcomes others in, and I don’t think it’s meant to. There’s a melancholy there but also a kind of briskness and stark beauty. It’s going to take me longer to figure out!
