Square bottle with silver tall top and songbird label, half full of amber eau, in a blue glazed bowl. This one aged quickly, but the bottom notes that I liked ripened really nicely–makes for a very pretty room spray.
The bottled perfume smells like high end floral shampoo and wet garden–a bit meh, and doesn’t last long.
However, the candle has more of the spicy rosewood notes, and the wax brings out the creamy sweetness of the gardenia, so there’s a lovely hot cocoa accord, perfect for snowed in afternoons. I bought three.
Lit candle in a tin with a pink breasted bird and music notes on the lid.
Test scratch paper with image of Slumberhouse Grev, and decant vial with bright green eau.
Alpha male cloves, softened by spring pine. Riding leather and a hint of spearmint underneath.
Josh Lobb of Slumberhouse designed it for men, but a hardcore dominatrix could pull this off beautifully. Bullwhip velvet and chai tea aftercare. Yes, please.
There are some fantastic covers of this song–this one is high on my list right now.
Eye of Civet and Thorn of Rose, Rind of Bergamot and Moss of Swamp.
This is Shakespeare’s Macbeth in a single spray: opens with “Enter three Witches,” and in their cauldron is a bubbling neon chartreuse potion.
By the third act it tries to come clean, the murdering queen taking a skinny-dip in a hidden spring, but it fails to wash off all the traces of evil.
Savage green, in a weird fertile spell-chanting way.
Led Zeppelin’s The Rain Song, from Houses of the Holy came out at the same time. Page and Plant re-released a version (as Jean Couturier did Coriandre) two decades later.
Extra large bottle with Demeter no-frills label, and a heap of cherry tomatoes.
Tomato by Demeter is every urban gardening hipster chick sunbathing topless on the roof. Stray honeysuckle and dandelion weeds are overtaken by crushed tomato leaves and the great red globes ripening on the vine. A smudge of pollution and sweat and dirt sticks to the skin, but doesn’t stop the invasive Organic Goddess green. I’d worship her in the summer.
Forget what you think about “cheap” perfumes and buy the big bottle–it makes a wonderful room spray, too.
Willie Nelson and Cyndi Lauper singing a Gershwin duet is my favorite thing today.
Pale green filled mini Les Belles de Ricci bottle, with a metallic fuchsia cap, among a cluster of tomatoes-on-the-vine.
Liberty Fizz could be marketed with one of those classy/trashy retro ads with the sexy half-dressed girl lounging in an enormous champagne glass– Only instead of bubbly, she’s cavorting in a salad made with green tomatoes. She wears a scant top of sweet herbs, flowers strung over her middle and a coy fig leaf on the bottom. She’ll stay for a second drink, cracking jokes about Virgin Marys with extra olives, but she leaves before the third.
Tall, square, matte-black bottle of Envy Eau de Parfum nestled in the heart of a bunch of celery stalks.
In a happy mood, Envy shimmers with lime and hyacinth and spring pine, but when it’s angry it sulks with celery and wilting roses and verdigris tarnish. Amazing in the rain.
This was my “divorce perfume,” twenty years ago, my splurge at the duty-free shop when I’d run off to cry on a few shoulders, along with the new haircut and leather jacket.
This song, like Envy, came out in 1997–I saw it in concert.
Vintage Diorissimo bottle with houndstooth black and white printed label and ceramic cap, filled with pale gold eau.
Muguet and nostalgia. Titania gracing an outdoor wedding, the Snow Queen in her sled in winter. Pure lily-of-the-valley, budding green, blooming to ringing white bells and fading to pungent roots.
My mother wore Diorissimo, which is the only thing I’ll ever have in common with Prince Harry, I’m afraid.
Dior released this one in 1956. The same year Alfred Hitchcock’s The Man Who Knew Too Much featured Doris Day singing Que Sera Sera.
Stacks of very blue blueberries and Cartier’s signature red leather-look box, and test tube of X.
Cartier’s Ten o’Clock wants to spend the ‘Crazy Hour’ picking blueberries on the forest edge but sadly snoozes with Dad’s outdated watch in the sock drawer.
Ironing starch on cotton handkerchiefs with jam stains that fade to metallic dusty rose.
It makes a nice room scent.
P!nk covered Gnarls Barkley’s Crazy in 2009, when this scent came out. It’s not dusty at all.
4711 cut crystal flask with simple Kelly green and gold label.
Or, lemon balm and vervain. Bright citrus without the bite, that settles down to woody tonic water.
Greener and sharper and more linear than the original–I miss the sweetness and the quickly shifting nuances–but longer lasting. Good for cocktails on the patio, perhaps.
Edit — 8/14/21
I usually pass fragrances that I wouldn’t wear on to someone who would appreciate them, but I’ve had Melissa & Verbena for years and still not found a home for it. There’s an herbal musk at the bottom that sits strangely on the skin, so not one to use as a mask spritz, either.
4711 released it in 2009, but I don’t think it was in production long. Lemon & Ginger was the hit of that run, and is still made today.
*
This came out the same year. Saw it in concert–it was awesome.
TokyoMilk solid perfume and matchbox, and gold capped bottle, both featuring two ladies in cheongsam dresses.
TokyoMilk #53 touts Crisp Greens, Plum, Green Lotus, Warm Sake on the label– –and yeah, this stuff smells like a drunk dinner salad. (The parfum solide adds oil to the dressing.)
Has an interesting vegan prep chef aura–I’ll toss the solid and keep the eau.
Edit 2/1/23
Unearthed this one today and did a double take, then did a comparison test, and yep, it’s got a LOT in common withUn Jardin sur le Nil— Maybe I’m into alcoholic vegetables?