Sexmagic opens with a fantastic, gloomy, austere and almost “mystical” blend comprising a breathtaking contrast between a peculiar herbal-leather accord which is extremely soft and mellow yet really “black”, and a ghastly breeze of thin floral notes and something almost “candied”, blended together with something reminding me of galbanum and mossy notes, providing a distant echo of traditional masculine fougères. The charme of Sexmagic is really powerful and unique: I am not actually sure of the reason why, but it is. It’s extremely dark, but in a sort of softer, more sensual, more enigmatic way than usual, managing to make also airy-colorful notes smell somehow gloomy and creepy. I would define this as almost “grotesque”, like a baroque “vanitas” painting: the smell of a dusty still life, of something once aristocratic and now dead – actually, there’s a feel of “death” in fact here. But much carnal and sensual too, I really get the Crowleyan inspiration behind the name of the scent. Feelings aside, it’s a really good and solid scent, with a perfect and clever composition, and great materials, as far as I can smell. The evolution is really peculiar, as the “pyramid” of the notes smells almost inverted: it’s like if the mellow, soft and hyper-black leather-herbs accord was on top, and then you get the lighter, fresher, woodier notes. The leather accord is great and rich, with a unique sort of plushy, velvety and gloomy texture that I rarely found elsewhere, fascinatingly wrapped into a balsamic, ambery-resinous, slightly floral sort of dusty shade. The drydown is sadly not that great in my opinion, as it’s a bit dry, thin and linear, but still really nice – basically almost only leathery-woody. A nondescript, clever, fascinating, extremely sophisticated gem which finally gives some sense and credit to the word “niche” (taking all this into account, the price is still completely crazy).