Velvety green roses and lily-of-the-valley out of the bottle, soft in personal space for an hour, then sits with lime sherbet dust on the skin for a few more.
This one is the last of the newest TokyoMilk Dark set. I’m not so impressed with this release–First Base is good, but the other three seem weak in both performance and creativity.
*
Dreamy soft song…
Perfect for young teen things who still decorate their bedrooms with twinkle lights and ruffled throw pillows, but whose musical tastes are surprisingly quite refined.
Opens with orange juice and pink pepper, then settles into a nice peach Hawaiian Ice–that really wants to be a Bellini when she’s old enough to drink–inside social distance, and ends after a few giggly hours of sheer vanilla musk on the skin.
Cute and lighthearted, but not silly.
*
Isla Crall is a very impressive young woman.
Sweet oranges out of the bottle, with a bundle of lavender that hovers inside personal space for fifteen minutes.
Then, almost suddenly, the coffee hits, like it was spilled onto the skin, and it’s marvelous–supported by gruff spices and leather, almost grumpy, in a normally-nice boss arriving to work late way.
(How can a scent seem both surly and comforting at the same time?)
Lasts an hour or two, a little longer on cuffs.
The guy usually fusses when I wear men’s cologne, but this one he likes.
*
A new one by a master. Both surly and comforting and so, so, good.
An after-the-gym scent with rolled up French cuff manners and an odd but soothing undercurrent of stomach antacid tablets.
Opens with sweet limes and and warm spice, then settles to a hand span off the body with a nice mess of gentian–herbal, bitter, sweet–almost medicinal and a little mysterious–bolstered by a faint green brush of patchouli and vetiver.
Very sniffy on the skin for a comforting 4-5 hours.
Wear on Taco Tuesday.
*
A soothing Tuesday song.
Starfruit & White Flowers is a lovely fruity floral, with crystalline green peachy-citrus notes, their sweetness carried deeper by the gardenia-neroli mashup. Pretty and linear, projects across the room for 10 minutes, then settles to the skin over the next half hour.
I’ve enjoyed most of the 4711 Acqua Colonia offerings, but this one is rather special–delicate, refreshing and cheerful, and even a bit sexy in a see-through summer evening sundress way–
–but there’s also a crisp sugary vibe that works for daytimes in winter, too.
Very sniffy and maybe a little addictive.
*
Just in case you haven’t heard this one–
Oh, Junk, how I love you–one part Tiger Balm, one part black currant cough drops–you heal my soul with comforting ’70s vibes of beaded doorway curtains and rusty VW micro-buses, JOB rolling papers and Aquarian tarot decks.
The solid is much preferable to the spray, so it can be rubbed into the skin like a curative salve. Apply every four hours or as needed.
My little pot expires next year. I cannot wait until someone asks me what I’m wearing, so I can nonchalantly say, “Just some old Junk I had.”
*
Bitter herbal mayhem.
I usually prefer gin and tonics in the summer, and if I’m wearing them, then I’ve had one too many.
*
A jasmine bomb with a 2 mile blast radius.
Pull the candy orange peel pin and white flowers go nuclear, a dense gardenia fog with ambery woods fallout underneath, that flattens every other scent in the vicinity.
Brilliant and a little frightening.
Wear in winter with an open carry permit.
*
Leather with nice manners.
Peppery sweet limes ease into smooth wood, wrapped in a bomber jacket with a satin ambergris lining.
Not pushy, but not a pushover, either. The spicy citrus stays light and refreshing in personal space, but the animalics laying just above the skin have some weight.
I’d chat him up if he sat next to me on the subway–
*
Five stars for the packaging, I’d like that design as a mural on my ceiling, but the first spray is a synthetic, skin-burning, cleaning solvent mess, and it doesn’t get better.
TokyoMilk #87 lists citrus leaves, water lily, frankincense and vetiver, which somehow adds up to the most abrasive lemon oil ever–
After fifteen minutes murky pond weeds grow a foot off the skin, just to add further insult, but luckily the base takes care of that with a nice dose of Pine-Sol fumes.
Might be a good one to keep for when guests call to say they’re coming by, and you can’t be arsed to clean–you’ll at least smell like they’ve interrupted you scrubbing the floor.
*
I’m fairly picky when it comes to covers of this song–Seven Nations’ is good, and so is Rick Springfield’s, but today I need Jimmy Little’s soothing version.
kira a. gold 