Fragrance du jour, recent sniffs, random notes.
(du Riz et des Agrumes)
Cardamom rice pudding on an urban summer evening.
Bouncy ginger and spice opening that eases to nice coconut limeade and hot concrete in half an hour, then dwindles to the skin with amber and vetiver for the night.
Warm and easygoing and fun.
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More warm and easygoing fun.
Marvelous retro ’60’s incense rose that starts out loud and aldehyde-soapy out of the bottle, then gets animalic–but it’s a purring kitty, rather than a hissing one–a few feet off the wrist, accompanied by a sneezing fit or two. After several hours the blooms fade to a lovely woody benzoin on the skin for the rest of the day.
Recommended to anyone who enjoys the classy pin-up mystique of Rive Gauche and Climat, and to cats–mine found the civet intriguing.
I’d enjoy this as cake frosting–buttercream vanilla with peach nectar and orange extract, and L.L.’s signature licorice footprint on the bottom–but it’s way too sweet for me to wear, and too young.
I miss the cinnamon bite of L de Lolita, that lifted the same citrus vanilla notes out of ingenue debut giggles and pushed her to center stage billing, full on drama queen belly laughter.
But if you’re wanting a pure gourmand, this one will make you crave iced pastries for hours, and fill a room with longings for dessert.
Just make sure you’ve got a good dentist.
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Powdery honey and sweet pear water.
Love Mimosa is almost sporty in its freshness out of the bottle–but the orris gives it a nice luxe creaminess that keeps it from being overtly chemical.
Loud at the start, then settles down to arms length sunny florals and laundry softener for most of the day.
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This song is pure sunshine.
Artificial cherry and Very Expensive dress shop.
The first Amouage that I don’t like, even though it’s rather similar to my cherished L.L. Amarena Whim.
The muddled amber at the bottom somehow cheapens it for me–like it’s trying too hard to be chic and popular.
(At my age, I’m trying too hard to be young and beautiful, so maybe I’d have appreciated more depth to the rose?)
Almondy floral tonka all day on the skin with a roomful of projection, and candy syrup on the cuffs all night.
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How fun is this?!
Elemental flowers in a sacred orange grove.
A burst of citrus, juicy unfiltered pulp and zest everywhere, then huge jasmine and ylang-ylang grow, so heavy and heady that they’re animalic and grubby underneath–except there’s enough lily-of-the-valley green suds hidden inside that everything fluctuates between dirty and clean, indolics vs. aldehydes, flora to fauna.
Metallic amber and earthy sandalwood try to give some support, but they’re overtaken by the chaotic florals that rise to outer space and last all night long.
Brilliant, but too much for me–Ubar’s flowers would swallow me whole and spit out my bones like tangerine seeds.
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An enormous song taken down to natural elements.
Lady Stetson covered in Band-Aids.
Peaches and ylang-ylang, wrapped in medical-grade adhesive, trying to be indolic and skanky but only managing awkwardly cute.
Mossy musk hits between the eyes after half an hour, with a bit of spice that doesn’t quite settle in place.
Fades to amber antiseptic funk on the skin within two hours.
I usually have more fun with labdanum, but here I just get gooey plastic.
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Doux means soft in French. Here’s some softness from Ani DiFranco-
Elegant hippy–they dress up to get high, roll only the good stuff, and eat their gourmet snacks with a pinky raised.
Spicy benzoin, labdanum smoke and sheer patchouli, on the sweet side of unisex.
Lasts a long lazy afternoon.
Edit – 8/24/21
Was thinking about words and meanings today, and pulled this one out.
I’d forgotten how nicely patchouli cuts through late summer humidity–Eau de Star is another good one for that.
(Here’s an interesting article about the cartoon frog appropriated by the U.S. alt-right, turned into a symbol of the Hong Kong pro-democracy movement. The original artist approves.)
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Many locations, from Shanghai to Manila to Sri Lanka, claim the title Pearl of the Orient. Here’s a punk band from Wuhan covering Lo Ta-yu’s ode to Hong Kong.
When did Tide start making rose-flavored pods?
Detergent floral that strips the nuance of the original. I put it in the medicine chest, but it might do better in the laundry room to lift stains.
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This song (and the video) is jarring, but also has incredible tension and nuance.
A Shirley temple cocktail nastied up with añejo tequila.
Grenadine and white flowers, orange peel and wooden casks.
It could almost be an Angel flanker–sweet and sour with a dirty bottom.
Not a big blast radius, but the fallout lingers a while.
Another sassy bomb–a cheerfully horrific Clash tune that hits with even more impact when sung by the Mexican punk band Tijuana No!.
kira a. gold 