The Cloud Collection perfumes are lava lamp groovy, with separate liquids rolling around in the bottle. One is advised to shake it for four seconds (shaking a lava lamp is not suggested, though the result is the same) until it turns cloudy, before spraying.
Spicy-tart sea buckthorn at the opening, and leather, then thirty minutes later the berries turn sweet and creamy, with a smooth oud-y base.
The fruit lasts on the skin for three hours–about the time it takes for the perfume salad dressing to separate again–but the sweet woods project much longer and louder, and linger on clothes all day.
The scent lives up to the novelty of the liquid. The seaberry (which I love in tea and candy) is unusual, a berry version of the lemon custard in Aqua Allegoria Teazzarro; and the base is rich as any Fort & Manlé, with twice the longevity.
I’ll wear this one a lot this fall.
Farveblind is is also weird and fun and Danish (like Zarkoperfume).
Marine water and smoke out of the vial that darkens down to black fountain pen ink, dirtying up sea foam. Algae blooms, delicate green, strangely organic and chemical at the same time, with big juicy sillage. The ambergris rises to the surface an hour later, making it even wetter with ocean spray; benzoin sweetens it, turning it fresh again.
Six hours later and it’s still there, chaotic, never seeming to settle down to one depth; yet it’s oddly comforting and beautiful.
Gov’t Mule does a terrific jam cover of Jimi Hendrix’s 1983 (A Merman I Shall Be)–from Electric Ladyland–that goes deep under water around the 4:15 mark.
Tipsy strawberries and seawater, roses and a tangled forest. Projects like spilled wine and soaks clothes for weeks.
Several years ago I wrote a novella set on Öland, an island off the coast of Sweden. My two young lovers celebrate midsummer eating strawberries and getting drunk, and if the pages could be scented, they’d smell like Sådanne.
Salty sand and boozy sweet fruit, so sun-ripe it’s alcoholic, eaten in the shadows of the sea-wind twisted trees on the shore. I adore it.
Tomato by Demeter is every urban gardening hipster chick sunbathing topless on the roof. Stray honeysuckle and dandelion weeds are overtaken by crushed tomato leaves and the great red globes ripening on the vine. A smudge of pollution and sweat and dirt sticks to the skin, but doesn’t stop the invasive Organic Goddess green. I’d worship her in the summer.
Forget what you think about “cheap” perfumes and buy the big bottle–it makes a wonderful room spray, too.
Willie Nelson and Cyndi Lauper singing a Gershwin duet is my favorite thing today.
Opens up with glorious daddy issues of pipe tobacco and bourbon, then dresses in a chocolate velvet vest with a watch chain and takes me out to the lesbian billiards bar. I drink vanilla shots until I’m cut off for spilling one and we go home to empty cabinets except for that fruitcake I re-gifted and got back two years later. It’s delicious. Best date ever.
Fully loaded Bazooka Joe. This stuff is like the sexy battle armor you put on before conquering your own world.
Tank Battle opens with a wet bubblegum pop, and a moment later a bright sulfur flare. Smoky haze sits at arms length–a burnt spice offering, a swallow of bourbon, metal shavings from a sharpened blade.
Sun-scorched patchouli and cloves settle to the skin after an hour, with an occasional whiff of daring and sweetness the whole day long.
The Seatbelts’ Tank! (the opener for Cowboy Bebop) is a lot of fun.
Tea Rose is cultured pearls and effortless good manners having gin and tonics at a garden party. Uncompromising rose, it will strip all other scents in the room of their flowers, and curtsies only to Joy.
I wore this in college when I could only afford silver jewelry, and needed my rayon dress to hold its own in a room full of silk.
This one came out in 1977, along with Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours. Here’s a brilliant and eerie cover.