For the third installment of my perfume reviews of Deconstructing Eden‘s Kushiel’s Legacy scents, I bring you four of the houses of the Court of Night-Blooming Flowers. As you might have surmised, these are all quite floral, which tends not to be my thing so much, but I am trying to branch out.
Cereus House: Pale, fair skin; cereus blossoms, moonflower and scattering of white rose petals for Naamah.
Of the scents I’ve reviewed previously, this reminds me most strongly of Phèdre. It is faint, floral, and creamy. Two sprays yield very little sillage. I would guess that what I’m smelling is moonflower– there is an incredible softness here, a demureness. It’s completely the opposite of everything that I personally look for in a perfume, but if you like white flowers or soft florals in general, this is probably right up your alley.
Eglantine House: Honeyed roses, a touch of mahogany, plums, an elegant amber accord, Champaca flowers, and of course, Eglantine roses, on a lovely white musk.
Upon initial application, there is a strong burst of mahogany wood, deep and rich and dark, underscored by the spiky insistence of the white musk. As it begins to dry, roses and greenery peek out, which also disappear as the perfume enters the drydown phase, which, on my skin is all soft white musk and honey.
Orchis House: Rare and precious orchids, a drop of vanilla orchid, living peach and pear, a soft touch of Naamah’s roses, topped with a sparkling citrus cocktail of pink grapefruit and sweet orange.
The intial application of this scent is a complete delight. There’s a burst of fizzy champagne mixed with grapefruit, utterly delicious, with undertones of juicy peaches and pears. Those fruity notes dull over time, as topnotes are wont to do, and eventually settle into a much less riotous white orchid and rose with subtle pear overtones. At the extreme end of wear, it almost gets a muzzy, ‘wool’-like note, like the one used in Joscelin.
Jasmine House: Bright and brassy on first application, Jasmine House smolders down to a warm and subtle sensuality. Three types of jasmine, on a bed of creamy sandalwood, Krishna amber, a scattering of deep, dark roses and a drop of coriander.
If you’d have told me that I’d love this scent, I probably would have outright called you a liar. Jasmine, when worn on my skin, inevitably turns to a sour scent like cat pee. Or not so inevitably, as it turns out. This smells awesome on me. I actually didn’t think it smelled brassy at all in its wet stage. Bright, yes. But not metallic or strident or astringent in any way. After about 10 minutes, it smells like a positively creamy jasmine, probably from the sandalwood underpinnings. I don’t actually smell any amber here, but there is also a sort of velvety quality that I associate with certain rose oils, so that might be it. Oh goodness, this is a good one. It’s a classy floral that you can wear in warm weather or cool. It’s bright and sunny but also very well rounded. Well done.