Witch Nose

Perfume, my beautiful wonderland and all the marvelous imagery it conjures


Délivre Moi by Libertin Louison Technique Indiscrete or a memory that is neither real nor completely imagined


As soon as a tiny drop of Délivre Moi touches my skin, it stirs forgotten sensations of pleasure mingled with sweet despair.  I travel space and time and perhaps another dimension, further deep in to the darkest corners of my twisted psyche. It starts softly, like an old creaking record playing a forgotten song of some distant past, one that perhaps never existed. As I try to grasp on the faint  pleasure of grief I am transported there.

I find myself in an old room I used to spend much time in distant past. It’s the same house,the  room, the  white starched curtains on the small wooden windows.The same loudly ticking ancient clock, The same indigo blue vase on the table. Yet everything looks different somehow. I slowly open a creaking old drawer I have just unlocked with a tiny blackened key. The drawer is located in the centre lower part of the old wooden wardrobe. The air swiftly fills with a thousand mingled scents of old wood, camphor and all other fragrant smells that reek of lost memories. As I slowly open the drawer I see some darkened, dirty and faded photographs. I swiftly take them one by one examining the faces of long-dead people, I see their lively eyes frozen in a moment. Those faces look so familiar yet so distant. I know I am their flesh and blood, even if we never met. I can no longer bear to look at them as the feeling of yearning overpowers me, so I put them all away.

I further lift some yellowed magazines out of the drawer, old rusty coins, a black lace handkerchief, all torn and falling apart. This handkerchief was only used at funerals, to adorn the act of mourning. I lift an old small leather case holding a rusted razor with a shiny black haft. I put it on the ground, with the remains of  fear that I might purposefully cut myself by accident.

I touch a layer of stained yellow papers when suddenly my fingers grasp the softest pale green silk, aged with time, full of little holes and stains, still delicate, fragile and enchanting. With shaking hands I slowly pull the bundle out and it unfolds into the most beautiful dress gown. I lift it up to my face, carefully trying it on.  And then I suddenly see my reflection in the peeled antique dusty mirror, I’m mesmerized. I slowly unbutton a thousand buttons and slip inside. The softest cold silk gently caresses my skin as I spin in front of the mirror. The fabric heats on my skin revealing hidden smells of hope, joy and despair. I am no longer me as I’m trapped in this bitter sweet memory, but I don’t want to shake it off. As I’m humming softly the melody of the old record, the cellphone rings and I’m back to the most boring reality.



feline self

My Feline Self or Black Oud by LM parfums


In all the world of olfactory pleasures, there is always a place for dark ones. Beautiful, twisted and filled with madness. Sweet kind of soothing darkness, dripping like a black elixir, enchanting, bewitching with it’s evil unforgiving beauty. And all you can do is only submit and enjoy that pleasant cruelty. Black Oud by Laurent Mazzone takes me to all those realms. It fulfills it’s promises and actually delivers much more.

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There is a huge difference between simple and banal. Simple is unpretentious and banal is when something tries too hard to be something it is not, and fails miserably.


Tubereuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens


If there was a best example of grand perfumes that are like wild beasts, the ones you need to tame to fully appreciate their splendor, it would undoubtedly be Tubereuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens. It was not a love at first sniff story for me this time. By a lucky coincidence, one dear friend owns this fragrance and wears it quite often. The coincidence is much more lucky because it suits him very well – a perfect match of how a perfume can represent someone’s character. Read More


Great perfumes are like beasts that need to be tamed..


Fille en aigulles by Serge Lutens


Fille en aiguilles by Serge Lutens is a very peculiar fragrance. Bearing in mind it’s playful name, referring to one of the strongest femininity symbols – heels, the most effective weapon any lady can use. The fragrance itself is much more versatile and actually evoking mostly naturesque atmosphere.

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Slava Zaitsev – Maroussia


This magic potion is sexiness in a bottle. The kind of tragic vintage sexiness that is on the verge of inappropriate mixed up with faux nostalgia.

Whenever I wear it I imagine the beginning of 20th century, a young beautiful Russian girl that is sitting on a bench in a dark boulevard and all she is wearing is a mink fur coat and nothing underneath, her makeup is smudged and she’s missing a shoe, trying hard to remember why and where she is..

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La Tulipe by Byredo or today I’m a good girl.


Maybe it’s mid-winter cold, all this snow or lack of light makes us start to dream about spring. When we all can get rid of these many layers of clothes to less feel like onions, to be able to breathe in a lung-full of fresh warming air and have one of the greatest olfactive pleasures – smell all the blossoming trees and spring flowers. The  bewitching aromas of all things in bloom, vafting through the air in sun heated streams. This is also the time when I’m massively mocked for my peculiar sniffing behaviour. The most enchanting smell to me at that time of the year is a scent of blooming Mimose and Accacia. They do something so odd to my brain, that I start to wonder if I’m not part-bee by any mistake.

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Violet Scented Boy

The Violet Scented Boy or how much a book character can change your life


Sometimes I love to pick up children’s books to find some hidden treasures or beautiful insights. Or sometimes just for pure positive naive fun. Once raiding thrift stores I picked up Dr. Fell’s Cabinet Of Smells by Susan Gates and this bizzare olfactive journey inspired me a lot. Especially one particular character – The Violet Scented boy. He was a little boy from Elizabethan times, that has been poisoned by his mother, to smell like violets. She showed him as a freak in a fair under the name of “violet scented monster”. She gave him wild lettuce soup every day, that made him very sick and sleepy all the time. Then he was kidnapped by an evil alchemist, that wanted to make a perfume of him to queen Elizabeth. Read More

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