SCENTS

Fragrance du jour, recent sniffs, random notes.

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Rose Silk

Mandarin orange and a gold topped Shanghai Tang bottle with the Chinese symbol for longevity in red, casting a cool shadow.

I keep hoping for someone to put out a real raw silk scent, with the strange animalics that rise from a new bolt of rough tussah or heavy dupioni. (Camel has a hint of it.)
There’s none of that here–Rose Silk is a sheer chiffon perfume, refined and delicate.

Opens with a bright squeeze of mandarin citrus that soon tempers down to a calm rose a few inches off the skin, that lasts most of the day.
Not particularly inspiring, but well made. A good blind-buy for a gift.

*

Coco Lee and Yo-Yo Ma’s ending credits song to one of my favorite movies of all time.

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Winter Oak

Sample spray and ad with righteously pouting blonde who should be allowed to wear more clothes when it’s that cold.

The ad copy says “smooth creamy warming” but I get “edge of the forest hermit.”

The first spray is a burst of sour citrus and vegetables with herbs, in a messy sun-drenched garden way, then everything gets spicy, woody cloves and earthy peppercorns for an hour on the skin.
The end is a slow fade of soft with smoky firewood that’s still a bit too green to burn.

I’d really enjoy this on a guy, which is funny, because the guy said he’d enjoy it on me.

*

Winter came back yesterday, for one last kiss.

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Sunkissed Hibiscus

Mini rollerball bottles with black caps, Sunkissed Hibiscus in front. I like the branding on Nest’s line–vintage naturalist illustrations, painted with vibrant colors on a dark background–this one is a voluptuous peach and orchid triffid.

The latest Nest is a big splash of generic herbal tea at the beginning, then gets greasy with coconut oil and milky white flowers for two hours. (Hibiscus is in the Malvaceae family, a kind of mallow, like ambrette–which explains the musky weight of the florals.)
The bottom is actually a bit nice, amber making a long lasting Nutella accord on the skin, perhaps a nod to the warm Cocoa Woods, which I liked very much.

I imagine it’s better in high summer than early spring, but I’ll likely pass it along to someone who enjoys suntan lotion scents before then.

*

Love this cover, which has a certain weight, too. Last summer was cruel, but a lot of artists have produced some neat stuff during the quarantine.

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La Fin Du Monde

Etat Libre d’Orange paper test of bottle (with orange radioactive symbol label) sample spray and box, and seasoned popcorn.

The End of the World definitely starts with a bang.

Opens noisy, an explosion of salt and pepper popcorn that leaves one thirsty, then the minerals seep in, metal smoke and charred woods, and concrete rubble. The fallout stays dominant on clothing, but after an hour or two flowers grow on the skin, powdery with a bit of ash, soft and strange.

Weirdly violent, in a post-apocalyptic movie way, and hopefully not prophetic.

*

This is easily the best song on Achtung Baby.

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Incanto Charms

Incanto Charms turquoise mini bottle on heap of Cascade Action-Packs. They look weirdly like tiny pillows with water bed toppers.

Incanto Charms is a party store French maid costume.

Opens with spring floral dishwasher pods, then cleans out fruit peelings left overnight in a Dispose-All, and finishes with vacuum cleaner dust musk.
Complete the look with fishnets and rubber cleaning gloves.

*

Maid-core is a real cosplay thing, and some of those outfits are absolutely amazing.
(This song by Samantha Rochford is delightful.)

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Twilly

Mini Twilly with Hermès scarf patterned box, and knobby bit of ginger root. I adore the trademark black derby cap–a redux of Mercury’s golden helmet, because Hermes, of course.

Twilly is a witch potion. A good one.

Starts with a cuppa ginger tea, a bit of citrus and powdered sugar stirred in, then gets fizzy and trippy.

Tuberoses bloom, bubbly and brash, arguing with the jasmine–who manage to pepper some sharp retorts–in an absurd and delightful Monty Python routine, complete with Silly Walks in vanilla lingerie.
There’s a fun colorful vibe, too, in a cartoons-for-adults way, as if the scent cloud is infused with silk scarf hues.

And it lasts for hours, slowly settling close to the body with an occasional carbonated giggling hiccup of ginger ale and woody spice. In the morning it’s still there, a smudge of watercolor sigils on the skin.

Cheerful modern magic.

*

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Princess

Pooka’s whisker snoot, mini Vera Wang heart shaped bottle filled with pale purple eau de toilette, capped with a gold crown, and chocolate squares.

The best part of this frag is the twee bottle, which belongs in a Disney movie.

The crème de cacao opening is interesting for about fifteen seconds, then everything turns into G-rated watery cocoa.
Let it go, let it go…

*

This song lasts longer and is much more interesting.

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Lord of Misrule

Bottle of amber perfume with a tall black cap and a blue and clear glass cruet with scattered pepper.

Lord of Misrule is what to wear to wild Bacchanalia parties where you sign a waiver to not hold the host responsible for any bruises, scratches or accidental pregnancies.

A pinch of lemon zest, then a bite of fresh ground black pepper–with sharp teeth, enough to make one wake up and pay attention–and woody patchouli that’s been sweetened with a hit of licorice powder.
The base is everlasting vanilla kisses, dark and dirty and rough in the best way, that linger on clothes and sheets for several nights afterward.

On the right guy, this would give soft demi-satyr vibes.
On the right woman, this would be dangerous.

*

I have mixed feelings about the Hunger Games series, but the movie soundtracks were amazing.

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Koala

John William Lewin’s 1803 drawing of “Coola and Young,” Zoologist bottle paper test strip, decant vial and tip of a eucalyptus branch.

Down Under barbershop bloke.
Zoologist went for environment rather than animalics on this one, though apparently koalas do smell like cough drops.

Opens with a big bar of masculine eucalyptus soap, and rinses down to herbal spice and vanilla mint. Within half an hour there’s a splash of smoky tea that I wish stayed longer, then it dries down to soft wood musk on the skin.

I like him, even if he’s not giving out Vegemite sammies.

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I’m old enough to remember when this first came out on the radio.

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Liliana

Tester bottle and boxes with Rococo motifs on a rustic looking store display.

There’s a very surreal vegetarian tea-party thing going on with Liliana.

Opens with pretty peaches and juicy florals, then turns to watermelon curry. After an hour or so, settles to woods and canned spinach liquid in personal space, and leaves a smudge lemon curd on the skin the next morning.

The vibe actually works, in a foodie in Fluevog witch boots kind of way.

*

Pop-goth strings crack me up–here’s one for a garden party, Bridgerton style.