A tall glass of iced tea with a silver spoon, sipped by a woman who lives by her wits and looks gorgeous doing it.
Opens with rose and Lapsang Souchong with lemon and maybe a little vodka to keep an adult edge, sophisticated and sharp.
Cloves soften the dry down and add a touch of sweetness, then they fade to delicate amber on the skin after a few hours.
This is an embrace by the most comforting man you’ve ever met.
Sweet pipe tobacco and vanilla.
Dry oak, like bourbon barrels, with a hint of char, rounded out by benzoin, and warmed up with myrrh.
The official story is of an explorer, retired in solitude to Madagascar, and it works.
Imaginary Authors scents are usually chaotic and ever-morphing, but this one holds enjoyably still, in a pleasant mood.
Bat is entertaining, but makes me feel like I’m in a nature documentary narrated by David Attenborough.
“The species Chiroptera wakes in his cave, rife with mineral dirt, dust and a trace of smoke, hungry for the tropical fruits of his diet. Bananas and figs sustain him for several hours, but eventually rain hinders his foraging, and he must find refuge in the green forest floor, hiding under his own leathery wings in the woody undergrowth until it passes.”
The first breath is a splash of orange, then the blueberries take over, juicy with a hint of mint.
Wet musk supports the fruit, like a glass jar holding the jam.
A puff of cream, a sprinkle of salt, and a breath of orange flower water to keep it from being too sugary.
It’s elegant and posh but slightly unusual–a bride in icy blue silk rather than white, or patent leather Mary Janes in navy instead of black.
Lingers six inches above the skin for a few sweet hours.
Jennifer Lawrence’s bottled tears.
This is department store white musk and Earl Grey tea with cream. She might have a rose in her teeth, but it’s faux silk and plastic.
Joy by Dior has none of J-Law’s fun spirit. The musk is too cheap, the citrus too sharp, the rose too artificial.
I’m sad, too.
This scent is strangely enveloping, just like an Issey Miyake coat, the fabric overwhelming in it’s comfort.
L’Eau Majeure drowns you after a squeeze of grapefruit to clarify the water, and a sprig of mint to make it even fresher.
At the bottom is a shipwreck–sea eroded pine beams–in the softest sand.
Trendy and fun.
With emphasis on girl.
One to wear with pigtails and mini-skirt.
Opens with a juicy slice of pear, and soft citrus, and as it warms, a lovely pistachio.
Orange flower water pushes through, then almond marzipan.
In half an hour it developed to syrupy tonka bean and heavy amber, a foot off the wrist, and made my ears ring and my teeth hurt with how sweet it is.
My husband said it smelled like a very young girl’s perfume and made him feel a bit creepy.