The first spray is a bright sweet puff of Tang powder, crystal clear sugary orange, that settles down to the skin in 60 seconds.
A bit of herbal citrus peel lingers with some green spice for a quarter hour, a little longer on clothes.
Lovely and refreshing.
Wear to breakfast.
*
This song makes me both happy and a little melancholy.
There’s a very fun generational skip with Shalimar Souffle–a fresh take on bygone fashion–that reminds me of the ultra-feminine girls who wear ’50’s pinup dresses in modern prints at the car shows.
This “Breath of Perfume” opens with lovely light citrus and jasmine, that soon gets interrupted by a peppery note that feels discordant–like it’s my skin, somehow, that is objectionable–but does fade in a few hours, leaving behind rich vanilla cake with lemon icing for the rest of the day.
Retro yet fresh at the same time, but weird on me. (One often sees “It doesn’t work with my body’s chemistry,” in reviews, but I rather feel that with this one I’m the one at fault.)
I gifted my big bottle, but kept the mini. Maybe I’ll improve with age.
*
Imelda May is the epitome of retro and fresh.
3121 is a decent album, in the top third of the stack by the Great Purple One, but the fragrance is a total flop.
“Black Sweat” was an early single and a good song, a bit of a throwback to “Kiss,” but the dark sweaty notes this opens with are not kissable at all–they’re fetid body odor and lime shaving cream.
Eventually settles to grubby white flower musk, in an invasion of personal space for most of the day–a reflection of “Lolita,” perhaps–sweet, too young and weirdly dirty and desperate.
Sadly, rather than “Incense and Candles,” this finishes with sawdust funk and murky patchouli.
Download the album, skip the perfume.
*
Best song on 3121:
A quick tea with lemon cookies and Earl Gray.
Two bites of citrus frosted baked goods, three sips of bergamot flavored Dragonwell, then it’s gone, no crumbs left behind.
A refreshing spritz good anytime, for anyone.
Also nice on dinner linens.
*
This cover of Joni’s gem is another quick mood boost–
Sugary orange gummy candy on top, cheeky and loud, that projects for 2 hours at arms length before slowly drifting down to floral oak-y tea leaves, left to stew in the bottom of the pot. The finish is quite nice, smoky and mysterious, and long lasting on fabric.
Also, this one matures well in the bottle.
I’ve an older rollerball as well–five years at least, the juice has turned dark and thick–that opens with a whiff of boozy plum wine before hitting the Brach’s Orange Slices, and has a slightly richer dry-down. I like both equally.
*
Love this sweet and mysterious song from one of my favorite duos.
The first spray is a sanitizing citrus that fades to weird artificial fantasy flowers–they feel a bit Tim Burton-ish, like they might eat your brains with slurping noises.
The dry drown is very cool, a woodsy musk that does a chilly freshwater slow dive that lasts for hours and hours.
Masculine, in a modern knight errant on a trippy quest way, but a Lady-of-the-Lake could pull it off, too.
*
Tim Burton directed this cute video for the Killers.
This smells like a flirtation at the race track on a sunny day–with a tumbler full of Gin & Juice on the side.
Delightfully bitter citrus, and ebony black oily resins–new tires and gear oil and leather and asphalt, all inky surfaces that get a touch of sweetness as they heat up–that stay close to the skin for the afternoon.
It’s weird but fun, and I really like the dichotomy of it.
Minerals gone organic and wild and dark, but bright and warm at the same time, and strangely inviting.
Leans masculine, but I’d wear it on high heel boot days–definitely on the Want-a-Full-Bottle list, and now I’m curious about the rest of the line.
*
One part Beefeater’s gin, three parts Ruby Red grapefruit juice. Pour over good ice and garnish with lime.
I keep hoping for someone to put out a real raw silk scent, with the strange animalics that rise from a new bolt of rough tussah or heavy dupioni. (Camel has a hint of it.)
There’s none of that here–Rose Silk is a sheer chiffon perfume, refined and delicate.
Opens with a bright squeeze of mandarin citrus that soon tempers down to a calm rose a few inches off the skin, that lasts most of the day.
Not particularly inspiring, but well made. A good blind-buy for a gift.
*
Coco Lee and Yo-Yo Ma’s ending credits song to one of my favorite movies of all time.
Twilly is a witch potion. A good one.
Starts with a cuppa ginger tea, a bit of citrus and powdered sugar stirred in, then gets fizzy and trippy.
Tuberoses bloom, bubbly and brash, arguing with the jasmine–who manage to pepper some sharp retorts–in an absurd and delightful Monty Python routine, complete with Silly Walks in vanilla lingerie.
There’s a fun colorful vibe, too, in a cartoons-for-adults way, as if the scent cloud is infused with silk scarf hues.
And it lasts for hours, slowly settling close to the body with an occasional carbonated giggling hiccup of ginger ale and woody spice. In the morning it’s still there, a smudge of watercolor sigils on the skin.
Cheerful modern magic.
*
Bvlgari’s ad copy talks about sparkling citrus and the excitement of boat ride on the Mediterranean.
The bergamot on top has some nice sunny herbal lime sweetness–but it quickly ebbs to orange flower and watery musk on the skin, and completely sails away in half an hour.
For that price I was expecting a bottle of Asti and a day trip on a yacht, and instead I got a lemon lolly and a Sea-Doo run around the nearest buoy.
*
This recent hit from Italy is a lot of fun.
kira a. gold 