The last mini from the 4711 Acqua Colonia sample set.
Lime and dark spice, with a frothy hit of Ivory soap, but there’s a Coca-Cola vibe to it, too.
Green citrus projects a yard off the skin for five minutes, then the nutmeg slowly settles to the skin and disappears, over the course of an hour.
I dumped the whole bottle in the tub and it was marvelous.
Harry Nilsson was a such a brilliant (and strange) musician. His parents were Swedish circus performers, which makes me happy.
The shy little sister of Diorissimo.
Opens with an Earl Grey tea splash that gets lost in a huge green not-quite-blooming-yet flower garden–a bit of jasmine and blushing rosebuds–for an hour.
Big starchy oakmoss dries up the bottom a foot off the skin and stays there most of the day.
It’s nice, but doesn’t say much.
This oddball song was a huge hit in France in 1972, the same year Diorella came out.
Bright wet loud green floral, but clumsy.
Lily-of-the-valley after they’ve been beaten rain storms, hothouse tropicals bruised by the automatic sprinkler–
But then it goes overboard, into silage territory: a florist’s trimmings bucket and watermelon rind compost and fermented cucumber pulp.
Doesn’t come out of clothing until washed in hot water.
If it were less heavy-handed I’d enjoy the weirdness of it, in an I Am Trash kind of way.
This Passiflora (a folk band out of Costa Rica) is not clumsy at all.
Lovely rosy cranberries, fresh and juicy at first hello.
Then it gets brilliant with an unusual spicy-sweet, warm floral–
Karo-karounde is an African bush related to coffee, with rich blooms said by the Perfume Society to smell like jasmine and chocolate. L’Artisan Parfumeur features it at the heart of Timbuktu.
–I get a lot of pink pepper and curry-plant from it, maybe even nutmeg.
The guy says it smells like cilantro.
I think he’s catching the green edge of the lily-of-the-valley, and maybe some of the sandalwood at the base.
Doesn’t project as much as the other Estee Lauder foghorns I’ve tried. Misty florals stay within personal space, with sweet spicy roses on the skin, for most of the day.
Pleasures came out in 1995, and Joan Osborne released One of Us. Prince covered it best.
There’s a high-end bridal shop dressing room vibe from this one–jasmine and chrome with infinite good taste.
Airy white flowers, with enough sandalwood on the bottom to make it shiny smooth.
The wet violet note on the bottom lingers longest, into the late afternoon.
Mirror Lover is kind of shiny and smooth, too.
“Black clove and cassia flung onto glowing cinders and mingled with slow-dripping poisons.”
Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s description beats even my purple prose–but it’s spot on.
Bright green leaves with that black currant sting, then–CLOVES. Big loud sweet woody spice, with a breath of smoke and an unnecessary dash of dirty cinnamon. After an hour it dries down to powder, a smudge of gingerbread dust and vanilla on the skin.
More insidious than godlike, but definitely good for tricky witchery.
Here’s an insidious witchy song with an awesome Bond-girl vibe.
I love the opening, a magician’s big poof of flowers hidden in a sleeve.
They turn green quickly, facefuls of huge leafy citrus blooms with extra greenery, and woodsy patchouli stems by the armload.
Private Collection came out in 1973, but doesn’t bare the civet fangs that were so popular then–the base is cedar and bright spice a few feet from the skin. The dry down on clothes is wildflower sweet for two days.
The top notes are so fun, and the finish is pretty, but the middle feels like I’ve been whumped in the chest by the biggest bridal bouquet ever thrown.
This one first came out then, too.