So here’s a confession. I’m a twilight fan. Yeah, I know. I’m 31. I’m a feminist. I have no real excuse for loving these chaste preteen romance novels.
When I reflect on what it was like to be confused by the actions and statements of the opposite sex, when I think about how first love felt, so all consuming, so sure, and when I consider how total the pain of losing such a love was, I have to say the series, particularly the first two books, feels so accurate, so real.
So I admit it. I own all four books, in hardback no less. I’ve read them, several times. I’ve seen the movies. I have the soundtracks. I’ve always been a sucker for stories about the supernatural, and these completely hooked me. Now, like the little twifans spoofed on SNL last week, I see twilight everywhere. So when I first picked up Aqaba Midnight Sun, the name reminded me of the book names, and the first thing I thought was, “Is this scent Bella would wear? Is this a scent a vampire would enjoy?”
Silly. I know. But there it is.
According to Aqaba,
This velvety floral is full of deep purple shadows and glimmers of gemstones. A lovely bouquet of gardenia, tuberose, freesia and sweet orange blossom rests on a warm and plushy bed of white musk and sandalwood. A tryst in a royal garden -- the night air is still and heavy from the heat of the day as the blooms release their most intoxicating scents like a sigh. There is a rustle of silk and murmured endearments. A romantic fragrance that speaks in a hushed voice, with a gentle, spicy sweetness. Notes: gardenia, freesia, rose damask, orange flower, rose, Indian sandalwood, white musk, tuberoseIs it weird to say that the application on me is like flowers and sweet tarts? I definitely get sandalwood and some white musk, but the flowers in this combine to smell like a strange indistinguishable mix placed in a vase, and that vase has been placed inside a larger one, and the spaces in between have been filled with Sweet Tarts. Or maybe it’s grape kool-aid? Perhaps that’s what feeds this eclectic bouquet inside of water? A bit further in I get buts of cinnamon and even a tiny animalistic something that comes off like hot skin, warm asphalt, or melting rubber. But that nice weirdness is buried so deep inside the candy flower mess that I can’t get to the interesting part with any consistency; I burn my nose out, inhaling the strong part over and over, in the effort.
I’d say that this might be perfect for a fifteen year old if the sillage weren’t quite so large. I can’t imagine winning over anyone hundred year old vampires with this one; the sheer volume of it would drive away such sensitive noses. It’s not a bad scent, but I can’t say it’s good either. My biggest difficulty is that I cannot imagine who would wear it. So often I smell a scent and even if I don’t want to buy it for myself to wear, but I can easily picture a snapshot of the person who would wear it. But with this one, it’s so many things that could be great wrapped in cellophane, dipped into wax candy, and heated by a hairdryer held waaaay to close to the mixture that I can’t even get a handle on the sort of animal, vegetable, or mineral that might choose this one.
Perhaps it is meant for more discerning noses than mine. If you’ve tried it, can you tell me what you think?
Midnight Sun is available in 30ml, 50ml, and 100ml through Luckyscent and the perfumer. Samples available through Luckyscent or direct from the perfumer.
“He has taken my complete heart.
Got a sweet tooth for my sweetheart.
Candy, it's gonna be just dandy,
the day I take my Candy
And make him mine, all mine.”
- “Candy,” Johnny Mercer
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~ a review from A Mix By Any Other Name