Strange peaches, and weird retro purple flowers–violet and iris à la Lolita Lempicka–with woody cherry stones on the bottom.
It’s very chic and memorable, yet a bit poisonous, too.
Not one for a younger woman, this one needs experience and half a lifetime of secrets to pull off.
Elegant elbow length sillage, and lasts until the bath the morning after.
Zoa came out in 1992, when Vanessa Paradis came out with her third album and this hit.
I love this one–sunshine and sky and water.
SG79 STHLM’s No 3 has a lot in common with D&G’s Light Blue, but sweeter, stripped of the chemical musk, and ginger replacing the artificial roses.
Lemon zest opening with green apples to the core, and the prettiest cedar at the base.
Lasts two hours a few inches above the skin, and the afternoon on clothes.
My favorite folk duo, also from Stockholm.
Opens with cherry Kool-aid, then grows up and drinks kirsch. Roses bloom after a few minutes, blowsy hybrid teas with a pinch of spice. Projects long and loud, and lasts a day on the skin and through the evening on silk.
Cleaner and younger than Tom Ford’s Lost Cherry, and I bet it’s fantastic in the winter.
I love this adorable little tune.
Red Zinger herbal tea–
Sparkly hibiscus and rosy fruit with an earthy finish–a great summer splash for a young woman.
(Or an older one who is nostalgic for 1970’s jello salad, quiche and carrot cake.) (Me.)
A raspy Clash cover of another Jimmy.
This one is from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s Mad Tea Party collection, and it’s rather nice.
The grapefruit opens more floral than fruit, especially with the lavender, then chamomile makes it sweet. The musk is subtle, paired with the currants, and soft, like the dusty bloom on dark berries.
I’d love it in a bath oil.
The Pogues aren’t from anywhere near Cheshire, but this is great.
Not bad, in a modern Town & Country way.
His girlfriend got it for him when they were on spring break last year. His mother thinks it’s nice too.
Pineapple and sage on the top, sandalwood and rented groomsman’s tuxedos on the bottom.
Edit – 5/11/21
Lots of pineapple in the store, almost cloyingly sweet, then settles down to the generic leathery vanilla woods that seems to be the base of all dude cologne right now.
I wish the sage notes I got from the peelie came through more.
I am never not in the mood for this song.
Airport duty-free testers are disgusting–those germs have survived tropics and tundras from all over the world–but this one was well worth the risk.
Angel “Cruise” opens loud and proud with delicious fresh mango that lasted the trudge to my gate and through fancy class pre-boarding–I was worried I would be THAT seatmate, who gives everyone in the row a headache with their perfume–but it settled nicely to a few inches off the wrist with pink grapefruit ice by the time I managed to cram my bag into the overhead compartment.
Somewhere over Iceland the sorbet gave way to Angel’s signature caramel patchouli, without the amber musk that I usually find cloying.
It was gone when we landed, and my connection too short to hit the shops for a bottle of my own.
Next trip, maybe.
Here’s some nice light jazz that’s actually wonderfully filthy.
Light and lovely and ridiculously fresh, but with an odd plastic-left-in-the-sun note. Peaches in cellophane and patchouli and warm spice, with a hit of wax rose petals and white flowers, ending on a very comforting vetiver.
Projects like a summer garden with vinyl flags and lasts twice as long on clothes than skin.
Pity about the cheap cassette tape bottle, though. That’s just a travesty.
This was the biggest pop song in Italy in 1999.
Byredo’s Bibliothèque is that time you snuck a jelly filled donut into the library: a lovely hit of plummy jam on top of papery leather, with musky violet almond dust.
Only a short story, but sweet and satisfying.
This Reina del Cid song is also sweet and satisfying.
Well named–there’s absolutely nothing virginal about this stuff.
Maraschino stem teasing over a powder puff of musk, cyanide sweet foreplay for hours, ending in a melting dish of Ben&Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream.
Pure sex.
This song is also pure sex.
kira a. gold 