Smoke, leather and cocoa powder.
Peppery milk chocolate grows slowly, endlessly, with maple and balsam and kerosene.
This could be worn by a wounded-football-hero-turned-reclusive-lumberjack when he decides to clean up nice.
He has no clue that he’s sexy AF.
It fades after a long day to an herbal kiss on sweaty skin, left with creamy lip balm.
This song has that same sweet roughness. (Seven Nations is an awesome Celtic-American folk-rock band.)
The fashion illustrator René Gruau’s 1953 advertisement for Jacques Griffe’s Mistigri is much more famous than the perfume ever was, but I’ve always been curious about the scent.
I finally managed to score a 70-year-old vintage mini, the little box (made to look like a deck of cards–the mistigri is the Jack of Clubs, as well as the trickster cat–still intact. The bottle even had the string on the cap, though it fell apart as soon as I opened the stopper.
A dried up drop was left, a flake of amber brown in the corner of the bottle that smelled like every fusty antique store and estate sale.
Disappointing–
–until I rinsed it out, and the warm water brought a green chypre to life, resinous and floral. Some sharp pepper and flirty cloves were mixed in there too.
An hour later the room smells faintly of cedar and the soapy-sweetness of Chanel No. 5, in a trousseau chest with a secret kind-of-way.
So Mistigri was a nice scent, though nothing amazing. But the cat drawing on the box? I want a poster of that on my wall.
My favorite Catwoman, Eartha Kitt released C’est Si Bon in 1953.
A lovely gamine gourmand, but deeper and more complex than she’s given credit for.
Opens with clear honey and caramel syrup from the fancy coffee bar, then dries down to powdery musk in the middle. A nice gooey vanilla clings to the skin for a day.
Sticks to clothes forever, a reminder to never underestimate the lasting effects of a young woman with a sweet smile.
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This also came out in 2011. (Adele is not to be underestimated. Ever.)
This could be this decade’s Drakkar Noir–a new definition of masculinity for these semi-enlightened times. Sophisticated and clever–strength and ego coming with style and smarts rather than brawn–this man might not have the classic pretty face but his shirt is nicely tailored and he plays cards well–he’s interesting.
Opens with icy lemonade, then smoky ginger, and lays two inches above the skin with amber, mint and sandalwood all evening long.
I wish it had more sweetness.
Edit – 6/24/21
I sniffed a bottle in the men’s department–and I got a drop on my nose.
(…sad whine…)
The world did not get any sexier, but I did have a sudden craving for lemon sweets.
When I got home the guy said I smelled like one of his golf buddies–the smart one.
*
Peter Gabriel always seems to carry an air of cerebral masculinity.
(The live version with The Blind Boys of Alabama is even better but there’s an ad break in the middle that’s jarring.)
Marshmallow fluff–that powdered huff of air when you open a fresh bag of Jet-Puffed minis–and candied violets, the kind on wedding cakes.
Then a whiff of apples, waxy red delicious skin, that first sniff just before you bite.
Miraculously, it doesn’t do the expected caramel-amber-musk dry-down thing, it stays fresh and sugary and bright.
Ridiculously feminine, lip-gloss blown kisses last for over two hours, hovering a few inches off the wrist, then mature into woodsy sweetness on the shirt cuffs.
*
Miles Davis was a painter, too, influenced by Joni Mitchell and Jean-Michel Basquiat. (Check out this article featuring some of his works.)
This song was in the soundtrack to the Basquiat movie, starring Jeffrey Wright and David Bowie.
A priest on vacation in the tropics.
Out of the bottle–beaches and mild fruit cocktails with coconut water.
It quickly turns to soap, some kind of retro ’70’s bar of herbal glycerine that takes over the whole tiki bar.
There’s some patchouli and musk at the bottom, like a feeble attempt to dirty it up, but it’s just too clean.
Perfect on Sunday.
My favorite bar song.
This one smells like honeysuckle and ketchup to me.
Maybe some jasmine, too.
It’s pretty, but the tomato chutney in the middle is rather disconcerting.
Lasts a long time, like that lunch stain on a shirt that won’t wash out.
Gorgeous. Violets and blueberries and dark Halloween magic. Vampires wear this stuff.
Sapphire potion water, a hint of smoke, a toast of witch booze.
Sugared black currants and leather and spruce, a soft animalic purr.
Bitter chocolate tempers the sweetness and brings out the violet leaf.
Ends with a short puff of bourbon pipe tobacco and clean velvet musk, but clings to clothes all night long,
Moody vampire songs are the best.
This guy can dance, and knows how to choose a drink for someone else based on what shoes they’re wearing, but he’s got a dark gleam in his eye, and won’t hesitate to get you drunk.
Opens with Sambuca–aniseed liqueur–with a touch of absinthe to make it herbal, then gets almondy with an amaretto chaser for happy hour. Sandalwood tones the sweetness down, then the evening ends on smooth and smoky vanilla single malt scotch.
You let him take you home.
One of my favorites from Lazaretto. Definitely not smooth.
The bottled perfume smells like high end floral shampoo and wet garden–a bit meh, and doesn’t last long.
However, the candle has more of the spicy rosewood notes, and the wax brings out the creamy sweetness of the gardenia, so there’s a lovely hot cocoa accord, perfect for snowed in afternoons.
I bought three.
*
Another Sparrow.
kira a. gold 