This is so marvelously intriguing–a simple white floral that’s really a James Bond femme fatale in disguise. Comes in with a big hello of jasmine to the entire room, begging questions at social distance–Is that violet? patchouli? heliotrope? cigarette ash?–then winks with a smirk, because no, they’re actually almonds and cashmere musk being clever. Vanilla and sandalwood leave long trails in personal space like theme songs that get stuck in the head for hours and hours.
Bold and smart, and not as sweet as first impressions might give.
A 007 twist that makes Katy Perry’s classic intriguing again–(I adore PMJ.)
I needed a bit of sun today, and this little beauty gives big powdery vanilla amber warmth with just one drop. (Really, just one–this stuff gives off melting honey rose trails a mile long.)
Sandalwood and cinnamon on the bottom keeps the marzipan-ish heliotrope from getting sticky, and adds some maturity to the vanilla. Lasts all afternoon and through the night on clothes, leaving sweet spice dust behind like footprints in the snow.
Five stars for the packaging, I’d like that design as a mural on my ceiling, but the first spray is a synthetic, skin-burning, cleaning solvent mess, and it doesn’t get better.
TokyoMilk #87 lists citrus leaves, water lily, frankincense and vetiver, which somehow adds up to the most abrasive lemon oil ever– After fifteen minutes murky pond weeds grow a foot off the skin, just to add further insult, but luckily the base takes care of that with a nice dose of Pine-Sol fumes.
Might be a good one to keep for when guests call to say they’re coming by, and you can’t be arsed to clean–you’ll at least smell like they’ve interrupted you scrubbing the floor.
I’m fairly picky when it comes to covers of this song–Seven Nations’ is good, and so is Rick Springfield’s, but today I need Jimmy Little’s soothing version.
Demeter’s New Baby is an oddly exact mix of milky vanilla, mineral oil and powder that starts with a shriek, but soon settles to cuddle space with sleepy lemon curd.
Comparing it to the source material was fun but a bit startling. The lactonic notes–almost animalic–are very similar, and there is a definitely a sugar cookie thing going on, especially on the top of their little head. (Apparently there are Scientific Reasons why newborns smell so sweet.) I’m not so sure how the lemon pie on the bottom relates, but it’s a nicer sour than burpings.
Very sniffable, but wearing it might require your own car-seat and diaper bag.
A tropical fruit freshie that disappears from the skin in 30 minutes, leaving a sour baby-spit-up stain on clothes. I get none of the promised ylang-ylang or crystalline lagoon waters, and I’m rather annoyed about the whole experience.
The brand website irritated me even more, with its suggestions for layering this scent with others in the latest collection. At $140 a bottle, we’re paying you to properly blend the fragrance, Guerlain.
A good bad mood song. (The whole album is awesome.)
Rich honey rose and vanilla incense, roughed up with some crushed herbs–as if Amouage Fate and Absolue Pour Le Soir met for antipasti before a fancy event–then skipped it and went for bezoin ice cream and meaningful conversation instead.
I don’t often think of perfume as an accompaniment to food–but this would be amazing on a romantic dinner date. Leans more toward silk neckties than chiffon scarves, and lasts long into the night.
Another gentlemanly rose– Alejandro Rose-Garcia goes by Shakey Graves when he’s not acting.
Okay, yes. Beetroot is weird–an undead gourmand?!– but it’s interesting.
Begins with a big shovelful of the same dusty soil opening that Zoologist Bat has, cellar dry, and cool. The sweet notes in the middle are an hour or so of white sugar–granulated crystals without fruit or flowers or spice–oddly earthy in its purity, and rather fun. The end lasts another two hours, a smudge of dirt on the skin, with subtle smoke that reminds me of Tank Battle.
Not one for daily wear, but I’ll douse myself in it for the local Zombie Shuffle next Halloween.
Nice at first– Starts with spiced whipped cream-y jasmine in personal space that slowly drifts to a hand-span off the wrist as the cardamom ripens–then it takes an odd turn as curried raw salmon for a few hours. The rose sticks to clothes more than skin, with sweet resins that last most of the day.
I’d enjoy it more without the fish course.
This song has absolutely nothing to do with the ocean and has no sushi.
Starts with raspberry tooth polish for kids and a whiff of loaded diaper, and finishes with fresh hamster cage shavings, but the big patchouli rose in the middle is nice for an hour or two. Affordable but if you want a pre-school teacher vibe, DKNY Be Delicious is the better bet.
Hey, happy new year, year? Here’s some Debbie Harry that should not be played in the classroom.