Soooo much better than the first draft.
The sad Earl Grey sachet is now bright bergamot zest, the pale cream made into sweet vanilla custard, and the rose is a full bouquet of long stemmed high teas.
Sandalwood and tonka add warmth and spice, and if the musk were a little more sheer, I’d buy it by the quart.
(The backup ladies absolutely steal this cover!)
Flowery jasmine pear for a few moments.
(I don’t get the chocolate.)
Rose and something minty that turns pleasantly bubblegummy for a while.
(Maybe there’s some chocolate in a peppermint chip ice cream way?)
Later a bit of sandalwood and amber tinged vanilla that WANTS to be chocolate–
(I probably shouldn’t test scents when I’m hungry.)
Yummy, but this one feels like a scent for a birthday party, rather than a person.
Best party song ever.
Lovely rosy cranberries, fresh and juicy at first hello.
Then it gets brilliant with an unusual spicy-sweet, warm floral–
Karo-karounde is an African bush related to coffee, with rich blooms said by the Perfume Society to smell like jasmine and chocolate. L’Artisan Parfumeur features it at the heart of Timbuktu.
–I get a lot of pink pepper and curry-plant from it, maybe even nutmeg.
The guy says it smells like cilantro.
I think he’s catching the green edge of the lily-of-the-valley, and maybe some of the sandalwood at the base.
Doesn’t project as much as the other Estee Lauder foghorns I’ve tried. Misty florals stay within personal space, with sweet spicy roses on the skin, for most of the day.
Pleasures came out in 1995, and Joan Osborne released One of Us. Prince covered it best.
A gorgeous balm scent that feels so lovely–I put it on my elbows, my knees, the back of my hands–anywhere the skin is rough in the winter.
The stick goes on like velvet, warming up peachy sweet with a hint of citrus, and stays a few inches above the skin for several hours. Finally soaks in with sugared iris and some rosy sandalwood.
Would make a nice first perfume for a kidling.
This piece is comforting and sweet, too.
Simple but quite nice.
Rosy peonies sweetened by lily-of-the-valley musk for a few hours, finishing to smoky tea on the skin.
This would make a lovely wedding scent for a sophisticated bride.
This isn’t exactly a proposal song, but it’s probably the prettiest cover of a Nirvana tune that I’ve ever heard.
Peachy aldehydes that morph into peppery spice–cinnamon and clove, balsam and patchouli–then fade to incense over dry powdery rose.
This one was first released in 1953–Joan Crawford wore it.
It’s got a great slinky, film noir, dark-silhouette-framed-in-smoke feel, the woman who talks softly but commands all your attention until she’s done with you.
This one came out the same year.
Soapy dry rose that settles into a metallic musk that grows and grows and takes over living rooms and puts its feet on the furniture.
The vanilla shows up briefly a half an hour in, but can’t compete with the ambroxan-patchouli that sits like a penny in the mouth and puts Black Sabbath tunes in the head all day.
An awesome and invasive modern take on an old rose.
Rob Zombie’s Dragula might be my favorite metal song, but today I’m feeling this Ella style take of the best revenge song ever:
Movin’ to the country,
Gonna eat a lot of peaches
—Presidents of the United States of America
(That song is stuck in my head now.)
Last year, Scentbird sent me a few things to sample in nice purse spray decants. Saint by Kat von D was one of the most fun.
There’s a fun vampy feel to it–a 1950’s burger joint date in the spring–wood paneling dash, a drive under blooming fruit trees with the top down, ending in a peach parfait with two spoons–but there’s some smoke in the sugar, and the flowers lean toward musk, keeping it from being silly.
Nice.
This one comes across as timid to me–like it wants to be Enchanted Forest when it grows up, or maybe Euphoria, but it’s afraid of the trees.
Citrus and macerated fruit, dark purple jam that turns into green tea with a hit of spice and slowly fades to a musky aquatic note with a whisper-wish of woods.
It’s nice, but needs something to give it more backbone, more identity.
Maybe Indigo just needs more mood.
Rhinestones rather than diamonds, but still fun to wear.
The tropical fruit salad opening has an orange edge that hits the back of the throat and unfortunately keeps the pear from sparkling, but it fades quickly to jasmine and warm musk on the skin for hours.
I’m a bit conflicted about the marketing. I went off a bit about philosophy’s “Nude Rose,” for using the same color scheme.
This song has all the color, cut and clarity.
kira a. gold 