Norne (Slumberhouse)

A "guilty pleasure" is defined as a form of entertainment which produces equal amounts of enjoyment and shame. As ridicule may follow on the heels of exposure, we hide our devotion to protect its object.

One of my guiltiest pleasures is Ridley Scott's Legend, a deliriously silly fairy tale starring Tom Cruise and Mia Sara as-- god, what are they? Super friends, foster siblings, doe-eyed lovers? Whatever. Jack and Lili rendezvous daily to pick flowers in a soft-focus forest primeval while Tim Curry (resplendent in delicious demon drag) plots to harsh their hippie lovefest. It's all so glitter-dusted and overblown, even I want to mock it... except for faithful Jack. This chaste nature boy kills me with his depthless innocence and tousled hair and moss-green eyes and revealing tatters and well-muscled young shoulders... Sorry, what was I saying?

Norne by Slumberhouse seems to me the ideal approximation of Jack's scent-- something feral and forest-born, nourished on morning dew and daubed with the soot of a Walpurgisnacht bonfire. Balsam fir (with its curious undertone of burnt sugar) makes up the heart of this chypre, which ought to list menace, mystery, and magick right alongside. This is truly a forest encapsulated in scent, ancient and implacable, with neither a particle of decay omitted nor a hint of Disney added. To ward off peril, a frankincense note peals forth as clear and sanctified as church bells-- but Norne's tutelary demon cannot be banished, for this is its home. You are the one out of place. Twigs snap, shadows lurk, and predatory eyes glow at you from every thicket as you turn and turn, trying to recall the exact moment when the trail disappeared from under your feet...

Is your love strong enough?

Scent Elements: Lichen, fern, oakmoss, balsam fir, hemlock, incense