Not-quite-ripe-pears from a roadside stand, cut in crisp slices and served with drinks.
A squeeze of lemon, then the juniper takes over, that first big swallow of a gin and tonic on a summer day.
Musk settles into the empty rocks glass with an edge, like diesel fumes.
Not for me, but I would crawl inside the clothes of the man wearing this and let him take me anywhere.
Candy sweet artificial red, like the lollipops from the bank teller.
Childish despite the white musk, Barbie perfume in plastic go-go boots.
Lasts through the play-date and nap hour, but fades before snack time.
This one makes me feel clumsy, like that time I had a Bellini at the sushi cafe. The glass was garnished with jasmine and so delicate I was afraid I’d break it.
Starts out watery–peonies in the rain.
Peaches bloom for an hour or two with a bit of orange flower and breezy musk, then woody bottom notes fade into the skin.
Bright orange juice splash opening, with a sweet peppery middle. The fruit settles down to ginger water, but doesn’t last.
A lovely pick-me-up scent, in a mimosas-after-the-gym sort of way.
Juliette Has A Gun’s Moscow Mule is the perfect mirror of the cocktail, down to the copper cup.
The first sip is a citrus twist, followed by big swallows of sparkling ginger ale. A wooden muddler mixes in clear vodka musk, until only the metal mug remains, a brassy mineral aftertaste.
A good happy hour scent.
Fresh and fun and fashionable–a mermaid in spangled spandex and designer seashells.
Wet flowers bloom strong, then ease into sugary herbs, water mint and those funny green lake apples that float on the surface in the summer. A bit later salt cascades into the sweet, the sharp edges of the crystals biting like ocean water.
I liked the insert enough to look for it in the store–it fades fast. A pick me up rather than a long wear, but the lack of white musk is refreshing.
Nice. A perfect Valentine’s scent.
Big overripe strawberry and milk chocolate that melts away as the rose blooms.
The rose softens to oud, sitting close, then turns to water on the skin.
It’s addictive, the I-want-more of cake, too easy to reapply until one has a stomach ache.
I’d save up for it, if it lasted longer.