Modern warlock potion.
Zings with citrus and black pepper out of the bottle, then sweetens up for a little while with anise and ginger. Other herbs are mashed up in there too, and the concoction constantly shifts, releasing smoky bubbles of impossible spell components for several hours–black violet leaf, glass wormwood, electric lavender.
Settles down to a bite of green on the skin, and is gone by noon.
Flips to the grimoire page of unisex.
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I love this.
I never really thought of Shamrock Shakes as sexy, but daaamn–this is a guy’s gourmand done right.
A milky mint confection spiked with orange flavored gin–(Tanqueray Flor de Sevilla is a pretty nice one)–that elevates it out of after school detours for fast food and into high end pastry shops with a liquor license.
Lolita Lempicka’s trademark syrupy-yet-powdery vanilla musk, here turned into sweet green teasing shadows, drifts in and out of intimate space all day, whispering invitations to drinks and dessert.
Yum.
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Lovely tomato greens honed sharp with citrus, but then they soften–the sage takes the iris and turns it into that dusty rime on herb plants, rather than sweet powder.
Then Acqua (an odd name for this flanker because I don’t find it aquatic at all) slowly eases down to high quality Italian shoes, but they’re green and soft, keeping some of that suede texture that both sage and tomato leaves have.
Refreshing and smart–lasts half the day in personal space, longer on cuffs.
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Bassi was one of the founders of the Italian hip-hop scene–this one came out in 2017, the same year as Uomo Acqua. My favorite line (that translates well into English) is “I have always been half rapper, half man, divided halfway between the sky and Milan.”
From the newest set, TokyoMilk 80 touts Sweet Grass, Clary Sage, Verdant Florals, Citron on the label, and the clary–a lavender-limey herbal–is nicely prominent, I’m happy to say.
Opens bright, cologne-ish–green lemonade on lawn chairs in the hot sun–that settles to the skin within an hour. Turns a little sweaty in a pleasant bitter citrus pithy way for another hour or two.
Fresh, soft, and unisex.
I’d enjoy it as bath salts, too.
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Garbage covers U2 with a dreamy urgency that’s just lovely–(the whole album is great.)
Big boss moss meets elegant earth mother with sweet spice (alliteration much?)–as if Chanel № 5 and Niki de Saint Phalle had a gender-fluid love child.
Begins with sassy juicy fruit aldehydes–that manage to give off interesting gasoline fumes–then grows calm and cool with a bouquet of spring flowers at arm’s length. Those are soon overtaken by deep voiced oak-moss sugared with ylang-ylang, cloves, and a spoonful of vanilla that settles to the skin by evening.
The top notes last ages on clothes, with some patchouli bitterness that I don’t get on the skin, but like very much.
Or Noir has been around for over 40 years, and is still in production. Reasonably priced too.
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Some more Gasoline with pretty bitterness.
Pansies are so fun! The smaller johnny-jump-ups have the most scent (which isn’t much) and are the easiest to grow.
Borsari 1870’s 1970’s reissue of a 1920 classic that I picked up in 2010 (…Let’s do the time-warp, agaaiin…!) is a greener violet than many, with a dewy leafy opening that stays verdant as it slowly dries down to sweet floral powder.
There’s a bit of woody backbone at the bottom–I’m only getting a smidge, but it’s there–some subtle oakmoss, maybe? that takes it out of traditional feminine flowers and into intriguing unisex garden.
Nice vibe of the whole plant, not just an extraction of the petals.
I have to shove my nose into things to get good results–a big huff rather than a delicate sniff–but I’m getting there!
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Another vintage one that got me moving. (I still get worn out quickly, but I’m much better than last week!)
It’s just a jump to the left–
Absolut Citron vodka and green bell peppers an inch off the skin for an hour or so.
Unisex and pleasant–a polite one to wear on the train, but nothing special.
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This song IS something special.
Stone Gossard (of Pearl Jam and Mother Love Bone) and Adam Levine did an amazing cover of this one at the I Am The Highway tribute concert. It’s worth tracking down for a listen–I’m not always a fan of Maroon 5 but Adam has a range as broad as Chris Cornell, and this tune needs it–that whole show was amazing, but today is rainy and gray and I just need the original.
Hmmm.
Well…
I get a fair bit of lily-of-the-valley, and maybe some gardenia, but not a lot of tuberose. Or vanilla.
Some ambergris rises from the skin about an hour in, but it’s got a cigarette ash aftertaste that seems dated.
The whole thing feels like it’s trying to have vibes of the action TV shoes in the late 60’s–The Mod Squad, and The Avengers, even Batman, all with slick sexy fashions contrasted with dangerous underworlds–but misses the mark (and doesn’t seem to go anywhere near India.)
For a good Indian tuberose with a kiss of vanilla, a bottle of Sikkim Girls and a mortgage payment can be had for the same price.
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Diana Rigg lived in Rajasthan when she was young, and spoke Hindi.
Cool lady. Smoked a lot.
Sweet smoke, and pine trees.
Soft and resinous on the skin, sharper and greener on cotton cuffs.
There’s a hint of something dangerous lurking underneath, that takes the incense out of the headshop and into darker, more niche territory–the moist forest floor threatened by distant fires, the spilled tea leaving ominous stains.
Very unisex and a bit sexy. Lasts a good two hours a foot off the wrist, then rests on the skin for two more.
I really like it.
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Acoustic Cure Forest might be my favorite.
Quirky garden freshness, that goes backward in time through the day.
Starts at afternoon in the garden with loud cucumber and pear and sunny lilac, then gets wet and green with hyacinth, in a slow rewind to morning dew on the grass, until it slides back under the covers with comfy creamy-but-powdery woods on the skin.
A bit off-beat and rather nice.
Rochas seems to have stopped production, but sealed bottles can still be found on line for cheap.
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This fresh cover might you take you backward, too.
kira a. gold 