The Winds of a Distant Icy Planet

The opening is sharp and unflinching. Most of the sweet and spicy facets of saffron have been stripped away, leaving behind a leathery, plasticky essence that feels crystalline and mechanical. I imagine a short-circuited android drifting through space - sizzling, but not smoky - its circuitry shattered into thousands of geometric crystals.

As it dries, a cool musk begins to rise, and paired with a hint of incense, those crystals seem to condense into a vast, saffron-scented cloud, reclaiming some of the previously shrouded sweetness and spice. I imagine the ambroxan as the wind behind this cloud, propelling the scent outward with a potent tenacity that feels both futuristic and familiar.

Once the Ambroxan cloud finally condenses, I begin to quite enjoy it. The musky, woodsy, delicately sweet aura it exudes is objectively pleasant. However, the harsh, synthetic voyage through space required to get there isn’t at all to my liking.

Still, it’s an intriguing scent whose development takes me through a series of familiar olfactory landmarks: a play-dough-like opening reminiscent of Side Effect, a metallic, circuitry-like heart reminding me of Ganymede, and, finally, a sweet, diffusive saffron that calls BR540 to mind. The destination is rewarding, but perhaps, in perfume as in life, it’s the journey that matters most.