A garden party of an earlier era–
Fruity hyacinth wine and Victorian button boots, damp spring earth and sheer amber musk.
Roses and jasmine and vanilla add a splash of sweetness. The flowers fade to the skin in a few hours, but leave green stains on the clothes for days.
Pretty, but Grand Amour needs to be a bit more exciting, for me to have Big Love at that price.
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This song is all Lindsey Buckingham, but Stevie Nicks does play her skirt really well.
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.
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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.
Seems like every design house is desperately churning out their version of a citrus-berry-rose, as if fruit sorbet is the must-have wardrobe staple now that COVID-19 has made hard pants a thing of the past.
This one should have been named TRULYsprite.
Kate Spade New York is nice, bright strawberries with lemon-lime zest opening, rosy refreshing middle and a mineral chrome shine at the base. It’s fun and bubbly, but it’s a bit brief, and a bit simple.
Pair with stretch leggings.
This is likely the first fragrance that Kate Spade herself didn’t have a hand in producing, on some level. Do most legacy houses take the safe route after their creator has recently passed?
I hope they find their way back to her iconic cuteness-as-an-artform aesthetic.
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Terry Gilliam took Kate Bush and Donald Sutherland to a new level of cute in her “Cloudbusting” video.
I thought there would be hot cocoa.
L’Air des Alpes Suisses is chilly and gorgeous, and stays that way.
The ambergris is a gust of cold wind carrying snow and pine, with a weirdly enjoyable sweet whiff of gasoline–and it echoes. The camphor in the woods somehow resonates, the way a struck bell vibrates the air in the room, with a slow two hour fade to the skin.
The linear sound wave quality is very cool, a good example of synesthesia in perfumery, though I keep wondering if it will resolve at the end.
(Is there a tease of warmth and chocolate in there, or is that my own wishful thinking?)
I like it very much, but I bet it’s a completely different scent in August.
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An electro-pop dance hit out of Zurich that’s oddly soothing, with a gorgeous little video.
Happy hour on ladies’ night.
First splash is apple vodka and passionfruit flavored whipped topping, then calms down to sweet orange flowers in personal space. Fades after two hours, leaving a smudge of benzoin on the skin.
The ending sweet resin is rather nice–if it had more depth, this one would wear well for date night, not just drinks with the girls.
(I’ve never been to Rio, sadly. Does it smell like Gala Apple Stoli?)
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This Girl is Crazy by Brazilian pop star Anitta is too fun.
The state of Georgia in July.
Arielle smells like peaches in the hot sun, when the fruit stands are full and ripe and steamy and the day lilies are blooming in full force.
Amber and sandalwood dry up the sweetness after an hour, making it almost civet-sour-soapy, that Atlanta highway air freshener and funky sweat that sticks to skin and clothes, until it slowly eases back to evening breeze and sweet peach tea.
I kinda like it.
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Lollia No. 8
A bit alcoholic out of the bottle, then dries down to lavender and vanilla with some honey amber. Stays close to the skin for several hours, and leaves soft floral dust on the clothes.
It’s actually quite soothing–I might try it as a pillow scent–and the bottle is adorable.
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Waiting on election results today. I need all the soothing I can get.
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-
kira a. gold 