Frost, Frosting, and a Wink: Snow Angels Holiday No. 25 by DSH Perfumes

I’ll admit it. I sprayed Snow Angels Holiday No. 25 by DSH Perfumes expecting full-on candy cane chaos. What I got was more interesting. It opens with a cool, breathy shimmer that feels like stepping outside in December when the sky is white and every sound is muffled. Then the kitchen door swings open.

This is a sweet perfume, absolutely. But it’s the kind of sweet that understands contrast. The first impression is chilly and glistening, almost like icing sugar caught in the wind. Then the warmth unfolds: vanilla-laced frosting, a whisper of almond, maybe a puff of cocoa dust and a buttery, cookie-dough hum. And beneath it all, a soft skin-musk glow and faint woods that keep the whole thing from turning sticky. The tug-of-war between frost and frosting is the point here, and it works.

I wore it on a scarf to run errands. Someone asked what I’d been baking. The joke’s on them; I was wearing a coat that still smelled like the outside. That’s the trick Dawn Spencer Hurwitz pulls off in this composition. The nostalgia is real, but it’s not cartoonish. There’s restraint, and just enough lift to keep the sweetness aerial rather than gooey.

Note impressions:

• Opening: cool air, sparkly sugar, a bright aldehydic twinkle
• Heart: vanilla icing, almond-pastry warmth, soft spice
• Drydown: clean musk, gentle woods, a powdery, cuddly trail

Performance on my skin was a steady 6 to 7 hours, with a quiet-to-medium sillage that feels right for a winter gourmand. This isn’t a clubbing bomb; it’s a cozy aura that still catches compliments when you lean in.

If you think you’ve outgrown gourmands, Snow Angels Holiday No. 25 might tempt you back with its fresh-air twist. And if you’re already a sugar enthusiast, this gives you sweetness with backbone. No syrup slick, no headache, no apologies.

Final take: DSH Perfumes has bottled the paradox of winter joy. Cold cheeks, warm kitchen, frosting on your fingers, boots by the door. It’s charming without pandering, nostalgic without cliché, and I’m keeping it on my shelf for the first snowfall.