fruity

by

Gucci Guilty

Gold Gucci Guilty mini bottle with mirrored G motif, sitting on some lackluster peaches.

Muted peaches.

Lemon flavored window cleaner and Lipton peach tea powder out of the bottle, that turns to plain non-dairy creamer while the lilacs bloom, milky and warm in personal space, but a little dull.
The bottom is safe patchouli amber just above the skin for half the day.

There’s something oddly repressed about the whole mixture–like the fruit notes want to bump-n-grind but they’re stuck in a demure floral dress–that feels dated.
(I don’t think Guilty has been allowed anything fun to feel guilty about.)

*

Even Rachel Wood was the face of the Guilty campaign–she sang this in Across the Universe–but Siouxsie did it best.

by

Queens

Sample sprays, one still in Bond № 9 royal blue foil wrapper, on pic of bottle with the Worlds Fair globe sculpture in gold.

On blind sniff I got the bergamot, and what I first thought was jasmine and apricot–but turned out to be tuberose and osmanthus–with sandalwood on the bottom.
The rest was just a pleasant spicy amber fruit mush that I couldn’t deconstruct, like that purple hard candy that you wonder what flavor it’s supposed to be.
Lasts a pretty day in personal space, finishing on vanilla ice milk musk.

Really nice, but other than an apropos slight hit of Chinatown, and the gorgeous bottle, kind of tame–

Queens NY is diversity and contemporary art, and Louis Armstrong and Rockaway beach, fusion street food, Houdini’s grave, Astoria, shopping for absolutely anything in Flushing, and crazy little museums about the oddest things–but it’s not tame.

(I remember walking under the El, before “Sunny Jamaica”–yeah, I’m old.)

*

Awkwafina is the best thing out of Queens right now.
(NSFW with five-borough-language.)

by

Incanto Shine

Pale purple purse(?) shaped mini mini bottle embossed with dragonfly motif, and a peach slice.

Synthetic tropical fruits that last most of the bus ride to school, then settle down to curried peaches and pencil shavings on the skin until second period.

Most junior high kids have much better taste than this–get them any Moschino for the same price, instead.

*

Better synthetic Peaches:

by

K

Rectangular slate blue mini bottle with silver crown cap and a long red pepper.

This guy starts out like all his other man-pals, noisy and a little gin-drunk, but he’s sweet so you go home with him–and he cooks. Spicy peppers, herbs, citrus, figs, well mixed, and suddenly he’s fun, hot chili and warm blues. Not particularly athletic, but he’s long lasting with good wood and big wok energy.

*

Red Hot Chili Peppers cover of Stevie Wonder’s Higher Ground is good hard funk.

by

Bitter Peach

Tom Ford promo card and sample spray, and very fuzzy peaches, one bitten.

Is Tom Ford trying to be the Timothy Leary of perfumery?
Seems like his best stuff is all-about-the-experience-man, and Bitter Peach is a mescaline trip.

First spray goes on with a swirly peach milkshake, but with the sugar turned down and spiked with amaretto–not for children and kind of amazing, for a quarter hour or so.

Then it gets down to business, a sour mash fruity Mandelbrot set that could be edged with almonds, cigarettes, cinnamon, and more, (but is really just intoxicated florals)–mixed with a few paranoid minutes of nauseating pizza and sour milk vomit–which is how you know the drugs have kicked in, right?

Then everything mellows out and turns dreamy and sexy, the peaches held a few inches above the skin with patchi sandalwood and made creamy with vanilla and benzoin for the rest of the evening.

Chaotic and fun.
Please use responsibly.

*

This slowed down cover of the Beatles’ hit draws out the psychedelics but is no less frenetic.
Spooky Tooth released The Last Puff in 1970–their I Am the Walrus was used in the (hopefully not) last episode of the brilliant show Watchmen.

by

Incanto Dream

Pink Incanto Dream mini bottle, on a heap of clear Jolly Rancher candy with purple edged wrappers.

Pineapple Jolly Ranchers, and greasy on the skin.
Lasts two hours with no projection and stains the cuffs.

For a sweet fruity floral with a woodsy bottom, Angel Nova is a better investment, with four times the performance and six times the quality.

Or just eat the candy.

*

Another dream. This one has angsty kissing with Scott Eastwood.

by

Wild Poppy

Mini black capped Nest bottles, Wild Poppy in front with red flower illustrated label.

Whew. The rollerball application might not be the way to sample this one.

One stripe on the wrist and I get Enormous Fruits, in a Carmen Miranda hat so huge it makes my eyes cross.
Scrubbing twice knocks it back to a heavy raspberry rose headache, three feet off the skin, that no amount of dish detergent or aspirin can conquer.
I tried Goo-Gone, and Ajax.
It’s been two days.
I’m contemplating one of those foot peel masks. And acupuncture. Maybe an orbital sander?

*

by

Bella

Mini Vince Camuto perfume with gold filigree topper, and pink box embossed with an orange flower and gold seal.

Another fruity floral that fits the high school dress code, in designer shoes.

A citrus hard candy and canned peaches opening, that soon gets roughed up by an amber school bus, and eventually maced with hairspray.

One for the gift exchange when you drew the mean girl’s name, and want to come off classy.

*

Another Bella:

by

Journey Woman

Red faced gold Amouage mini bottle with domed cap, and apricots.

Opens with opulent spiced honey mead and elegant jasmine, then slices fresh apricots and sprinkles them with a bit of pollen dust.
But Journey isn’t delicate–there’s a solidity on the bottom, like sturdy hospital clogs, leather and wood and rubber soles–that keeps her from being frivolous.

The dichotomy reminds me of my grandmother, who loved rich and exotic things, but didn’t hesitate to tie on a smock when nurses aides were needed during the war.

Stays within personal space for most of the day, then fades to the skin with sweet tobacco musk for the evening.
I like it–though my wallet is a little too lighthearted for this kind of gravitas.

*

Really feeling for healthcare workers right now. May their shoes never, never, never let them down.

by

Sugar Plum

Matchbox with glittered plum botanical drawing and Tokyomilk crest, and silver lidded pot of butter yellow solid perfume.

So the COVID anosmia thing seems to be ebbing, but it has a tide.
I’ve felt better and better these past weeks, but then this weekend I felt kinda lousy, and my tea tasted like it was made from a twice-soaked bag and sizzling bacon smelled like a distant campfire.
But today I woke up feeling great, and had a very fragrant Darjeeling and a tasty biscuit, so I reached for an old favorite that I know well–

Tokyomilk 61 Petit Parfum Solide–Sugar Plum–came out at least fifteen years ago, an early one from Margot Elena offering peach, candied mango, white tea, persimmon and “deep cassis.”

–and all that comes through. Creamy sweet summer fruit, cool wet mango and cheeky black currants, just like I remember, and I don’t have to shove it up my nostrils to find them.
Interestingly, the guy doesn’t smell the sugary fruity notes, he only gets the ammonia end of the cassis.
He’s been laying on the hot sauce pretty hard too–so we’re guessing he’s maybe two weeks behind me in the C-19 recovery. (Or maybe he’s sailing on a lower tide.)

*

Thelma Plum is pretty amazing.