This scent is very different from anything else I’ve tried before, and I’m still trying to figure out if that’s a good or a bad thing.

The Beginning:

I’m first hit with an overwhelming sense of vinyl and plastic. Now, I usually loathe an overuse of synthetics in a fragrance, in like a visceral, physical way - sometimes I can feel my hackles rising (do humans have hackles?) and an involuntary cringing away from my wrist. This fragrance does NOT cause that type of reaction.

It’s almost as if it’s the exception that proves the rule - it sheds light on the uncanny valley of fragrance synthetics. Meaning that, perhaps synthetic “woody ambers” and scratchy roses bother me because they’re trying to be those things, but my brain can’t help but focus on the cognitive dissonance of how they’re NOT. Whereas here, synthetics are being used not in an attempt to mimic more expensive naturals, but rather to unapologetically synthetic effect. Or perhaps it’s because this fragrance feels...almost like it’s using natural extractions to recreate the feeling of synthetic materials?

There’s also...gasoline? And asphalt, and a little pine. After about 20 minutes, I start to get some wet earth/loam in the mixture. The vinyl and plastic begin to “settle” a little - they are still very distinctly present, but begin to smell less...burnt. Tufts of vetiver begin to grow in along the edges, dusty, dry and fragrant.

The Middle:

After a couple of hours, the notes blend together into a seamless amalgamation. No more can I pick out vinyl, plastic, pin, or gasoline. Instead, they all melt into a formless void, and the resulting brew by some witchcraft resembles nothing more than a... gorgeous, camphorous, medicinal oud. I don’t believe there is any actual oud in here, although I would not be surprised if it was an unlisted note, but the way the fragments of each fallen note fits together somehow pieces into the impression of high quality Indonesian or Cambodian oudh.

The End:

AEOOJ shifts again into the drydown, becoming a sweet, mellow, and dreamy affair. It’s as if all the conflict of the previous hours have been...let go, swept away. Tension flows from raised shoulders. Sweet release follows. It lingers close to the skin for another 4 or 5 hours, becoming undetectable at about the 10-12 hour mark.

After Every Ounce of Joy (Leaves My Body) is a remarkable piece of fragrance art. More than just pleasing my nose, it challenges my beliefs and assumptions about synthetics. Complex and intriguing, I can’t help bringing my wrist to my nose over and over again. Nevertheless, it's more of a fragrance I want to smell than fragrance I want to smell like. But I shall always make sure to have a small decant on hand.