Immortal Mine by Maria McElroy and Alexis Karl

I am rather late in reviewing Maria McElroy and Alexis Karl's Immortal Mine, but as usual, the Perfume Goddesses had a plan for me. The last perfume I reviewed was the incredible Sepia from Mandy Aftel, and the theme was decay and the unique beauty it engenders. Immortal Mine fits right in there. It was created for the Clarimonde Project helmed by Lucy Raubertas of the blog Indieperfumes; a group of perfume writers and perfumers got together to create together in the spirit of the story Clarimonde, a 19th century vampire novel. I have not read the story, but I love where Immortal Mine is taking me as I gingerly sniff my wrists.

Everybody knows that I love me all kindsa vampires, and before anyone out there can utter the words "Ugh, I'm so burnt out on vampires", let me just say that there's more to this shadowy mythic world than Twilight or The Vampire Diaries. Folk tales exist on virtually every continent that have spawned some of the most incredible literature (and later, films) of any time period.

Now, on to the perfume! It is oil based, and while I generally prefer alcohol based fragrances, sometimes oil better suits the formulation. This is always clear to me with other Maria McElroy creations, especially the ones filled to bursting with resinous ambers. Immortal Mine is not the kind of fragrance I like to pick apart and try to figure out what magic is behind it, it's one I just want to wear and revel in its unique atmosphere. That's how I feel about my favorite Hammer Horror vampire films-- the genius lies in the rich atmospheric qualities of the films, not technical largesse.

The Byzantine excess of the Immortal Mine bottle

My sample of Immortal Mine arrived in a velvet pouch, dripping with blood red wax all around the top of the vial, with a crow feather and wax-sealed introduction note. There's only one word for that, and it is BADASS.

The fragrance itself makes me think of sweet, dry earth, a mineral wash over everything. I smell stone, old books covered with dust, something lactonic playing against subtle tartness. What lies beneath it all is blissfully incensey and woody, and more than a little unsettling. It's a moving fragrance that holds my interest for hours, and based on that alone, I would definitely buy a bottle (or a gallon).

Anyone who appreciates (or shamelessly hoards) resinous, ambery and woody fragrances with a healthy dose of mystery beneath the surface will be interested in Immortal Mine. Its unique beauty certainly stands apart from the rest of my fragrance collection.

[Immortal Mine is available at Indiescents.com in a 1/3 oz bottle for $200 or sample vials for $10. Sample was provided by one of the perfumers for my consideration]