A Shirley temple cocktail nastied up with añejo tequila.
Grenadine and white flowers, orange peel and wooden casks.
It could almost be an Angel flanker–sweet and sour with a dirty bottom.
Not a big blast radius, but the fallout lingers a while.
Another sassy bomb–a cheerfully horrific Clash tune that hits with even more impact when sung by the Mexican punk band Tijuana No!.
Nivea skin cream.
It’s nice, but the flashback to all my mid-eighties high school angst hit me like a slap, and I swear my face broke out in sympathetic second puberty.
Peony and pear on top, orris root and Duran Duran on the bottom.
High school in the mid-eighties was horrible, but the music was fantastic.
A wake-up splash of sweet whiskey mash with some soft fruit, then calms down to an easy earthy floral a few inches above the skin for half an hour.
Slowly fades to sheer musk with a hint of ripening grain.
Comparing it to the source (I cook with barley in the winter, so I had some on hand) was fun–I could definitely find the dusty sweetness of the kernels.
Love this instrumental on an old classic–
Fruity, but hard and cold–mashed berries on ice–with a pretty floral garnish. The musk lasts longest, sweet and dry on the skin overnight.
The ad copy says there’s also pomegranate and hibiscus, waterlily and cedar, but I couldn’t pick out any of that on blind sniff– I just got upscale red Kool-aid.
I’d drink it, but I wouldn’t wear it.
Apropos. (Wasn’t that one of the Three Musketeers?)
Safe citrus and berry splash with flowers–nice dry woodsy peony, in a clean and non-alluring way–but it’s loud. Big invasive sillage that takes over the clothes, like when you switch fabric softeners and can’t get used to the new smell, but even longer lasting.
This one feels like an afterthought, as if it were put out for bottle collectors.
Neon Hitch is also loud and kind of invasive, but is absolutely alluring and by no means an afterthought.
This one is pure kindergarten teacher.
Thirsty green apple juice boxes, cucumber slices and flowers on the desk–lily-of-the-valley and roses–with a base of amber and gnawed-on pencils.
Good sillage, lasts through noon recess, and never makes you stand in the corner.
I’d give it a B+.
My favorite cute schoolyard tune.
This one makes me feel like I’ve been to that fantastic salon I can’t really afford.
Apple shampoo and flowery conditioner at first, then gorgeous honey notes from peach and clover for an hour.
Dries down to sweet patchy detangler musk.
Not great sillage–three inches above the skin, at most–and not terribly long lasting. Also, oddly greasy on the skin; I’m guessing it would stain a scarf.
(And always remember to tip your stylist.)
Indigo Girls tangling up some Dylan blues.
Soapy with creamy magnolia flowers and ubiquitous church congregation white musk.
A little headache inducing, but the brief driftwood note is kind of interesting.
Eric Clapton and John Meyer covering J.J. Coles’s Magnolia–
Bright and cheerful wake-me-up citrus that settles down to baby aspirin and Yankee Candle Freesia & Musk.
It’s oddly comforting, in a Cracker Barrel breakfast kind of way.
I always order the Uncle Hershel’s Favorite platter.
Opens aquatic, sea-breeze shower fresh, with some transparent grapefruit-y citrus. Tropical sweetness ripens from underneath–passion flower and and passion fruit–but it’s glittery rather than juicy, with that faceted cut of all the Omnia line.
Settles comfortably into personal space for the afternoon, and leaves a woody residue on cuffs.
Fun fact: Brazilian Paraiba tourmalines get their gorgeous aquamarine color from copper.