citrus

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Aqua Allegoria Anisia Bella

Guerlain beehive bottle and star anise.

Wore this the entire week that one crazy midsummer.
Still makes me feel hungover.

Edit – 10/12/21

Anisia Bella doesn’t make me ill anymore–I can finally drink ouzo again, too–but it’s definitely a scent for high summer.

The anise and licorice are too spicy for spring, the basil and tea too herbal for autumn. The citrus kick at the top is a lovely summer lemon seltzer, and the drydown was biscotti in another lifetime.

Nice. Leans a bit more butch fade than Teazzurra‘s fringe bob.
For more accessible options, try any incantation of the original Lolita Lempicka, or 4711’s Blood Orange & Basil.

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I played this song a lot that summer.

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Tea Rose

tea rose edgy
Tea Rose’s elegant, unisex brown and silver packaging and stately bottle belies the price tag, and the scent does too. A bottle can be had for an hour’s worth of freshman workship wages, yet smells like tenured faculty pay.

Tea Rose is cultured pearls and effortless good manners having gin and tonics at a garden party.
Uncompromising rose, it will strip all other scents in the room of their flowers, and curtsies only to Joy.

I wore this in college when I could only afford silver jewelry, and needed my rayon dress to hold its own in a room full of silk.

This one came out in 1977, along with Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours. Here’s a brilliant and eerie cover.

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Aqua Allegoria Gentiana

Guerlain beehive mini bottle with blue flower printed box behind.

Huh. So that’s what gentians smell like.
Interesting. And odd!
Not as sweet and delicate as the Regency romances would have one believe–like did the author actually research this? Or did they just go looking for “blue flower that grows in England?”
This is NOT a flower a swooning Georgian debutante would tuck into her bodice, unless she was trying to seduce the groundskeeper. (Which might make an interesting story, actually.)

2/16/23 – Edit

Pulled this out when sniffing Lacoste Match Point yesterday, to compare the gentian. It’s such a weird tangled green garden scent, that touches on tomato leaf and clover honey, bell pepper and sage dust.

Gentiana, after the first grapefruit squeeze, goes fast into that chaotic herbal floral, with a touch of nectar to soften the bitterness, and bit of lavender-ish soap suds to wash off the garden soil.
Some sandalwood on the bottom keeps it from getting too discombobulated.

One of the nicer Aqua Allegorias.
(Pamplelune is bolder and better.)

Also, I just ordered gentian seeds.

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More Blue –