The People of the Labyrinths "Luctor et Emergo"

When numerous publications name you "cult scent of the year", are you really a cult scent anymore? I have no idea. But if the word-of-mouth and critical acclaim managed to raise PotL's profile, at least the incredibly insane price will prevent a lot of people from getting their very own bottle, and thus the scent remains exclusive. (Not to mention the name of the creators, The People of the Labyrinths, brings to mind "The Clan of the Cave Bear", and does anyone really want to smell like Cro-Magnon erotica? Or more frightening still, encourage Cro-Magnon erotica behaviour on a date? Eeek!)

"Luctor et Emergo" has quite the reputation. Apparently it changes not only according to who's wearing it, but it reacts to the atmospheric conditions AND the season during which you wear it. All of this makes it very difficult to pin down a specific review, unless you revisit the sample every few months.

So, in August in London on a sunny day when it's probably in the mid 70s: cherries, first and foremost, then almondy marzipan. Then incense and woody smells, but warm and close; this isn't a fragrance that lends itself to wide-open spaces. I've heard a lot of talk about a Play-Doh undercurrent, and I definitely see what people mean, but it's not strong on me, and besides -- children eat Play-Doh, so clearly it's not totally repulsive. But then... there's this sweet kick that's almost sickening a few hours in. Not a talc smell, just horribly sweet. And then it dies down again and smells like the nicer bits of your spice rack.

It doesn't really help that I conducted this test sitting next to the barista at Starbucks on what was apparently coffee-grinding day, so my sense of smell is largely shot. I'm also a little concerned that this scent might disappear on me very, very quickly, which would put me RIGHT off the thought of buying a bottle. I'm going to wait a bit and try another go-round, this time wearing it into the office and getting a wider response. I'm leery of foody scents (if a man really wants me to smell like a sponge cake, he can bloody well help me in the kitchen while I cook), but if this turns out to be one of those perfumes that makes me think "eh, nice" and makes others react very strongly, then maybe I'll start scrounging the sales.

Verdict: Like eating marzipan and dried cherries in an old wooden Catholic church during Easter week, then spending the rest of the day running around in the sun-baked grasses and woods. And then it turns into goddamn "Flower"! Gah! Wait, no, now it's okay again... Oh, god, I can't take it. I'm confused. This stuff is evil genius. Come back when I've edited this entry about a million more times. I think I need to lay down in a dark room for a while.