LMB (Leaves My Body) is the new parfum extrait released by Chris Rusak in October, 2021. It was originally announced as “AEOOJ extrait,” which refers to a previous release which was called After Every Ounce of Joy (Leaves My Body), commonly referred to as AEOOJ.
Since Chris released AEOOJ in 2020, I’ve written about it many times. Most of the writing reads like strings of hallucination: ramblings about intersections in space and time, vastness in cramped quarters, stillness amid chaos, sudden realizations about the profundity of a seemingly ordinary moment.
I haven’t chosen to share much of that because it’s so intensely personal — situated in the landscape of my past, steeped in my own emotions and meanings, I can never separate ME from IT. I don’t know if it makes sense outside the parameters of my own head.
Chris didn’t publish any of the notes or the story behind AEOOJ when it was initially released, so we were all free to form our own ideas and associations. Mine were all-consuming, and I was the main character. It’s an extraordinary perfume that I enjoy very much.
The way he’s released LMB is basically the same — no list of notes, no framing of the concept, just the perfume itself. The only difference is, this time, I didn’t have to try to guess what the letters stand for. Also, I have had the penetrating and deeply reflective experience of wearing and thinking about AEOOJ for the past seventeen months.
Another year of the pandemic has whittled away at my emotional capacity; this constant trickle of stress hormones for months and months has left me feeling exsanguinated. I wasn’t sure I was ready for another AEOOJ experience. As much as I want to, I can’t hold a lot of complex feelings about a perfume right now. I definitely didn’t expect to be writing about it.
But LMB evokes entirely different thoughts and emotions for me. Although the connection to AEOOJ is definitely there, it’s a distinctly separate and unique perfume. And, although it’s technically more complex, LMB. is easier for me to describe, because I relate it to more tangible objects, ideas, and experiences.
LMB Perfume Review
When you first spray LMB, you’re rewarded with an assertive splash of gasoline, bolstered by a fog of 1970’s semi-truck exhaust fumes. I don’t know if you were also a bizarre child, but I always loved the smell of gas and I used to beg my mom to let me use the gas pump. I would try to get a little bit of gas on my fingers and then rub it onto my clothes, so that the Handi-wipes my mom kept in the glove box wouldn’t eliminate all of the odor. LMB reminds me of those intentional smears of gasoline on my clean clothes. I love the smells of things at the harsh and volatile ends of the spectrum — dirt, pollution, and solvents, bleach and cleaning products. LMB is the smell of gas fumes that I have always enjoyed, but elevated to sophistication.
Some of the melted vinyl aspects that we saw in AEOOJ are also present, but in LMB they are not as intense. Instead, there is an undertone of sweet grassiness, and a faint florality. It’s like this:
There’s a massive traffic jam on the Midwest interstate, and you’re having a picnic just off the side of the hot asphalt. You stomp down the overgrown grass to spread out your red and white checked vinyl tablecloth in the midday sun. You pick some wildflowers and honeysuckle vine, and place them in a soda bottle “vase” that you filled with gasoline.
At this point I have to pause and say that the perfume through all phases of its development is sublimely beautiful. If you’ve never consciously thought that you’d like to smell like grassy petroleum products — trust me, you do.
I’ve worn LMB several times now and, like all of Chris’s perfumes, it has so many layers that each time something new is revealed. At times there is a hint of something sour and leather-like. There are little bits of what smells like candied grass. There’s something terpenic that peeks in and out. The gasoline fuses with the flowers, and the result is divine.
I always felt that AEOOJ was the smell of a void — opening a door to a space that had been closed off for a long time. It smells like stillness. LMB is alive. It’s a weird, urban plant growing out the asphalt, with little tendrils that wrap around you. It is a captivating and extraordinary perfume, even though it could technically be called “a flanker” to AEOOJ, there is nothing else like LMB.
Where pinyon pine was the star of AEOOJ, LMB is a very unique and masterful work of vetiver. I’m going to be the first to say this, but I don’t think I will be the last — if you love Chris Rusak’s 33 (or are disappointed because you missed it), you should definitely try LMB. After a few hours, LMB is a lush field of tall green grasses with deep, golden roots. Chris does magic with vetiver (33 is on every niche connoisseur’s short list of “best vetiver perfumes”), and that knowledge and skill are displayed here to marvelous effect.
I grew up in Ohio, but we spent much of every summer at Lake Cumberland in Kentucky. Being on the marina, it always smelled like gas and oil from fueling and working on boats, the hot vinyl of the seats, the grass and weeds growing tall in the mud along shore. I loved the smells there, and LMB takes me back to that place.
When I first smelled LMB, my immediate reaction was “this is what Ruth Langmore would smell like.” If you haven’t watched Ozark, first of all, you should.
Ruth is street-smart and tough, but also has a tender side. She is beautiful, but not afraid to get her hands dirty. Ruth has a good heart, but will not hesitate to rob you, or even murder you, if circumstances require it.
YMMV but hear me out — Ruth worked at a hotel on the lake that has a small marina. She spends a lot of time in and around boats and trucks. She runs a riverboat casino for the Byrdes, and in her time off she does Marty’s dirty work (along with a bit of her own). LMB reminds me of Ruth because it’s gorgeous but it has some grit to it. Even when Ruth is at the casino in an evening gown, she will still kick you in the balls and throw you off the top deck if you mess with her. It would be perfectly fitting for her perfume to smell like she might have just come from committing arson.
Ruth is beautiful and bad-ass, naturally sweet but definitely dangerous. Wearing LMB gives me that kind of aura.
Like all of Chris Rusak’s perfumes, LMB has amazing longevity and is pleasing from beginning to end. I can wear it all day and still smell like heavenly, grassy goodness late into the night. A single spray is enough for me, two creates a dense bubble of scent that projects to arm’s length and lasts for 12 hours. I can still detect it in the morning if I haven’t showered.
LMB is a limited release, available only from the Chris Rusak perfume website. Samples are available individually, or as part of his Studio Series 13, which I also highly recommend.
I purchased the bottles pictured and discussed in this review at full retail price from the brand. I have no affiliation with Chris Rusak Perfume, received no compensation or other consideration for this review, and do not use any affiliate links.
