Jimmy Choo Fever

jimmy choo feverNot bad.
The peelie gives me vanilla plums and creamy coffee, with some purple flowers tucked in there.

I’d look for a bottle, but I’ve still got half a Midnight Fantasy left, a few samples of Moonlight, minis of Black Tulip and Belle de Nuit to finish and a fresh J’adore, and maybe I’m a bit tired of the steady diet of prunes, y’know?


Here’s another Fever, without plums.

Beautiful

BeautifulA bottle of Bridezilla, with a cathedral length train.

She comes in on full pipe organ, fruity sweet floral honey for the first half hour, then the nectar turns to a cascade of petals: carnations and roses, lilac and mimosa.
Spills blooms through the reception and the dancing, and ends in sweet vanilla sandalwood and musk, trailing Just Married signs–
–and wasn’t her dress just beautiful?


A another good first dance song that came out the same year.

Mon Eau

mon EauThis one bridges the gap between Lolita Lempicka L’Eau en Blanc and the original first scent, but somehow loses the vibrancy of both parents.

Pretty mixed-up berries in the beginning that eventually decide they’re black currants, then aniseed hits with the usual LL violet-iris notes before it settles in close with pleasant white musk and sandalwood powder.

A good bridesmaid perfume.


This is a lovely “first dance” wedding song–

Cherry Blossom

Cherry BlossomIt’s pretty, in a girl’s First Perfume kind of way–
Opens with spring floral orchard blooms, then fades to a powdery, almost childish cherry. Lasts the length of a junior high date, with cinema seat projection.

There’s nothing really special about it–Outremer’s Cola has that marvelous splashy pop, and Pêche is pure sass and juice–so I was expecting  a kick of something more.


Here’s a song with a lot of kick–

White Peach & Coriander

4711 white peach corianderFrom the 4711 Acqua Colonia line–

All the fruity citrus breakfast brunch drinks (garnished with parsley) in an instant spritz, and I love it.

The peach dries to powder in five minutes, and the green coriander lingers for another ten, and then it’s gone with no residue, leaving one refreshed in that magical burst that only 4711 has.


Beck is also magically refreshing.

Citrine

citrineThis is lemon Italian ice, sold from a cheery street vendor in August.

Sugary citrus blooms, loud, with a wet floral that is supposed to be lotus, but seems more like yellow roses, with synthetic papery wooden notes underneath.

Citrine is sweet but safe, polite sillage that doesn’t overstay its welcome, no risks, no glory.
It needs layering with musk, or even a bite of something animalic to make it shine.


Bono channeling his inner Elton-Bowie-Elvis is amazing. Whether you grin or groan, you have to admit he took risks–and the music is great.