Recently I got a couple of solid perfumes from Darling Clandestine. I'd been wanting to try them for some time, and earlier I purchased a couple of scents during a referral sale. They were Serpentina and Tapadero and I really liked them. I liked them enough that, during a BOGO sale I ordered solid versions of Inked and Monstre Delicat. I liked Serpentina and Tapadero but I loved, loved LOVED Inked and Monstre Delicat.
Serpentina, a crisp, green, ethereal fragrance with a little opium bite, smells like dirt. Not in a dirty way, but in an earthy way. A gardening way. In fact it smells like gardening, like greenness of plants and the loamy scent of turned soil. If you've ever done a bunch of gardening without gloves, this is the smell that's left on your hands, the wonderful, nurturing scent of green growing things and the earth that surrounds them.
Tapadero is another outdoorsy scent. The site calls it a sharp, clean fragrance bright with roses and sage, with a sweet smoky leather finish. I had a pony as a child* - I usually rode bareback, but always had reins. Tapadero smells like the worn leather scent of a tack shed and a breezy summer day. Sun, sky, an endless stretch of grass, leather and utter freedom.
Nice huh? Very, but those two are nothing compared to the olfactory awesomeness of my second order. Follow me as I describe where they take me.
Inked (this fragrance throbs with a sting of sea salt and leather and splashes of communion winet) is sexy. Really, really sexy. Sweat and leather, a hint of smoke, a drop of wine. Hell, Inked smells like sex - raunchy, primal slightly tipsy sex - the kind that leaves the bed irreparably disheveled; exhausting, exhilarating and faintly shocking. The first note is suedey, followed by a salty rush of sweaty bodily sweetness rippled through with stale cigarettes and a forgotten bottle of wine spilled on cheap carpet. One sniff and you just want to drown yourself in it, it's like the porno of perfumes.
Monstre Delicat, described as a clean, blue, rainy fragrance with haunting, moody black notes. It's the kind of half-sleep you get as the sun is coming up after a night of abandon. It's a little sweeter, a little sadder - the wash of pale grey light on a dreary morning, the moistness of dew, of dried sweat. You haven't quite escaped the madness of the night before, but now you're struck by the poignancy of it. The reality of being transient flesh and the fleeting nature of life. It is a blue-grey scent - the scent of a rainy sky with the crackling, spicy undertones of a storm just passed, or yet to come.
Serpentina and Tapadero are complex, rich scents, but they are the sort of thing you could wear to work without feeling out of place. They're evocative and daring, but not dangerous. Monstre Delicat and Inked are very, very dangerous scents. They work very well together and almost make a kind of poetry. They're wild, sexy and out of control. They're the perfume equivalent of realising you've forgotten to re-button your shirt, or tame your hair and fix your lipstick and you know everyone's looking at you thinking "Uh, huh - they just got some."
All products were purchased by me for my own use. My opinions are my own and always will be. Your mileage may vary.
*Don't be jealous. The pony was a little bastard and he hated me. Actually he hated anything that interfered with his master plan of eating until he was as wide as he was tall and only moving when absolutely necessary. His name was Buck. I don't think I need to explain this, except to say that most of my memories of him consist of sitting on the ground watching his fat pony butt heading away from me.
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| stolen from DC's etsy store. |
Serpentina, a crisp, green, ethereal fragrance with a little opium bite, smells like dirt. Not in a dirty way, but in an earthy way. A gardening way. In fact it smells like gardening, like greenness of plants and the loamy scent of turned soil. If you've ever done a bunch of gardening without gloves, this is the smell that's left on your hands, the wonderful, nurturing scent of green growing things and the earth that surrounds them.
Tapadero is another outdoorsy scent. The site calls it a sharp, clean fragrance bright with roses and sage, with a sweet smoky leather finish. I had a pony as a child* - I usually rode bareback, but always had reins. Tapadero smells like the worn leather scent of a tack shed and a breezy summer day. Sun, sky, an endless stretch of grass, leather and utter freedom.
Nice huh? Very, but those two are nothing compared to the olfactory awesomeness of my second order. Follow me as I describe where they take me.
Inked (this fragrance throbs with a sting of sea salt and leather and splashes of communion winet) is sexy. Really, really sexy. Sweat and leather, a hint of smoke, a drop of wine. Hell, Inked smells like sex - raunchy, primal slightly tipsy sex - the kind that leaves the bed irreparably disheveled; exhausting, exhilarating and faintly shocking. The first note is suedey, followed by a salty rush of sweaty bodily sweetness rippled through with stale cigarettes and a forgotten bottle of wine spilled on cheap carpet. One sniff and you just want to drown yourself in it, it's like the porno of perfumes.
Monstre Delicat, described as a clean, blue, rainy fragrance with haunting, moody black notes. It's the kind of half-sleep you get as the sun is coming up after a night of abandon. It's a little sweeter, a little sadder - the wash of pale grey light on a dreary morning, the moistness of dew, of dried sweat. You haven't quite escaped the madness of the night before, but now you're struck by the poignancy of it. The reality of being transient flesh and the fleeting nature of life. It is a blue-grey scent - the scent of a rainy sky with the crackling, spicy undertones of a storm just passed, or yet to come.
Serpentina and Tapadero are complex, rich scents, but they are the sort of thing you could wear to work without feeling out of place. They're evocative and daring, but not dangerous. Monstre Delicat and Inked are very, very dangerous scents. They work very well together and almost make a kind of poetry. They're wild, sexy and out of control. They're the perfume equivalent of realising you've forgotten to re-button your shirt, or tame your hair and fix your lipstick and you know everyone's looking at you thinking "Uh, huh - they just got some."
All products were purchased by me for my own use. My opinions are my own and always will be. Your mileage may vary.
*Don't be jealous. The pony was a little bastard and he hated me. Actually he hated anything that interfered with his master plan of eating until he was as wide as he was tall and only moving when absolutely necessary. His name was Buck. I don't think I need to explain this, except to say that most of my memories of him consist of sitting on the ground watching his fat pony butt heading away from me.
Great reviews, they all sound fabulous! I will surely check out the store :)
ReplyDeleteBuck sounds like a cheeky little pony! x
Good review.
ReplyDeleteI swear to god, every person i have talked to that has known or had a pony swears that ponies are absolute assholes!! Why is this?
Ladymia69 - I don't know - I think it's because, like horses, they can have a mean streak but they don't have the innate sense of humour a horse has. Or maybe because, being small and cute, they are spoiled rotten, like purse doggies, and have an inflated sense of self-worth.
ReplyDeleteNow I want perfumes and I miss my horse kipiptáki
ReplyDeleteActually, I do kind of miss the little jerk.
ReplyDelete