D.S. & Durga
A unique visual signature based on accords, character, and seasonality
Frankincense and labdanum arrive with considerable impact, all dark amber resin and liturgical weight, but the spearmint immediately disrupts this seriousness with a crisp, almost sharp herbaceous jolt. Within moments, you're caught between veneration and freshness—sacred and profane sitting uncomfortably close.
The patchouli deepens considerably whilst styrax adds a peculiar woodiness that borders on rubbery-sweet, and the jasmine sambac tries earnestly to bring floral beauty to what has become a decidedly strange composition. The civet begins its whispered work beneath everything, adding a subtle skin-warmth and slight animalic intrigue that makes the florals feel slightly askew, as though the jasmine is blooming in an abandoned building.
By this stage, the resinous base—opoponax and amber alongside that lingering civet—has won the argument entirely. You're left with something deeply amber-woody and subtly animalic, the mint and florals reduced to memory, the fragrance settling into a warm, slightly smoky skin-scent that suggests incense burned several hours ago in a room you've just entered.
Siberian Snow is a fragrance that rewards close attention and patience—it's densely constructed, almost architectural in its refusal to simplify itself. The opening frankincense-labdanum accord creates an immediately resinous foundation, but it's the spearmint that prevents this from becoming merely church-like; instead, you get the sharp, almost medicinal bite of mint cutting through amber-dark resins, as though someone has cracked open an incense box and scattered fresh leaves across the contents.
The heart reveals the fragrance's true complexity. Patchouli emerges not as the earthy, close-to-skin patchouli of minimalist florals, but as something with considerable weight and slight animalic undertones courtesy of the civet base. Styrax and jasmine sambac arrive together—the jasmine's creamy sweetness immediately tempered by styrax's balsamic, almost plastic-like woodiness. This creates an odd, compelling tension: indolic florals meeting resinous harshness. It's neither comfortable nor repellent; it's fascinating.
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4.1/5 (646)