Apothecary jar style bottle with peach colored eau, and box with botanical drawings.
Sea Buckthorn and Gooseberry
(This one came from Russia. Cool stamps.)
The gooseberry hits with an acid bite at the back of the throat, but fades quickly into a fruit compote with creamy sea buckthorn syrup. Ends on a solid wood base of bathroom potpourri.
Luna came out with this one (also Russian) in 2018, too.
The Cloud Collection perfumes are lava lamp groovy, with separate liquids rolling around in the bottle. One is advised to shake it for four seconds (shaking a lava lamp is not suggested, though the result is the same) until it turns cloudy, before spraying.
Spicy-tart sea buckthorn at the opening, and leather, then thirty minutes later the berries turn sweet and creamy, with a smooth oud-y base.
The fruit lasts on the skin for three hours–about the time it takes for the perfume salad dressing to separate again–but the sweet woods project much longer and louder, and linger on clothes all day.
The scent lives up to the novelty of the liquid. The seaberry (which I love in tea and candy) is unusual, a berry version of the lemon custard in Aqua Allegoria Teazzarro; and the base is rich as any Fort & Manlé, with twice the longevity.
I’ll wear this one a lot this fall.
Farveblind is is also weird and fun and Danish (like Zarkoperfume).
The solid goes on with cool waxy watermelon and warms up to a creamy tuberose with a bite of peach.
Lasts for an hour with faint but big sillage, then dissolves into caramel on the skin.
It’s much nicer than I expected–delicate and lighthearted and fun–so nice to find a teen perfume done really well.
This song came out at the same time, cliche and cute (with a teenage fantasy revenge video), but still charming.
Candied strawberries and caramel apples, framed by galleria escalator glass and chrome.
Trendy and young, but with impeccable taste–the patchouli gives a tartness to the berries, a metallic edge that takes it out of Flowerbomb territory and puts it more in league with House of Sillage Chevaux d’Or.
Gah, this stuff is NICE. Basil cuts through the sweetness of the berries, and moss keeps the musk soft.
Juicy on the skin, herbal at a distance.
I just wish it lasted longer.
Kurt Vile is an indie-folk musician out of Philadelphia. I love this dreamy tune off his third album, Childish Prodigy.
I blind bought this one because of the name and the price and it turned out to be a great summer scent, fresh and sweet and playful.
Wet peaches on a warm evening, and grapefruit candy–the jelly kind crusted with sugar crystals–for a few hours, with roses on the bottom. The watery note lingers on clothes til morning.
There’s something unpretentious about it. Not cheap (well, actually, it is–Oriflame is Sweden’s Avon, and bottles can be had for less than ten euros) but uncomplicated and fun.
This uncomplicated and fun Swedish hit also came in 2016.
Ad peelie of bottle with pink eau and black ribbon.
The magazine peelie was raspberry lemonade and tentative patchouli, in an unassuming way.
The bottle in the store was more strawberry ice and jasmine musk and lasted the car ride home close to the skin. She didn’t offer any stimulating conversation on the way.
Definitely from YSL’s conservative good-taste-over-personality line, rather than the avant garde bare-a-boob, Broadway Boogie-Woogie and Studio 54 editorial Opium and Kouros.
Opens with a splash of lemony cassis tea, then peaches. Twenty minutes in the cedar develops, spectacular sweet woody pines–summer forest floor with wild berries, rather than winter yule tree–that lasts an inch above the skin all day.
The amber and vetiver on the bottom are very sheer, and surprisingly faint on clothing.