Musky lavender and green flower buds project loud at first, but neroli calms it down. There’s a prickly mess of flowers in the middle, then it bottoms out in the woods.
Not sweet enough for me, but I bet it’s nice in the rain.
Right now, M.I.A. is the Brit with the best rhythm.
I like blood oranges, and this is a nice ripe one.
Opens with a bright hit of sweet juice then settles to peel, with a breath of green underneath. Sits two inches above the wrist for an hour or two, then fades to candied citron and sandalwood on the skin.
It’s a little pricey for the lack of longevity and projection, but maybe not for a citrus aficionado.
Blood Orange is amazing and this video is a giggle. The costumes are brilliant–I keep wondering what scents they all might be wearing–
“Fresh and sensual” according to the tagline, but I get grapefruit pith and greenhouse at first spray, then it settles into vetiver an inch or two above the skin for an hour.
Oddly dated, but pleasant–it’s how I’d imagine the interior of an old VW bug that’s been decomposing in a retired philosophy professor’s back yard would smell like–full of weeds and nostalgia.
This scent was supposed to be inspired by Haiti. I don’t really feel that, but I’ve never been.
Twa Fey (Three Leaves) is a very special Haitian folk song–this is a gorgeous version by Emeline Michel.
Unusual and interesting.
Opens with a blast of fruity-booze-pepper-smoke, then settles into a really nice herbal–almost medicinal–leathery rose.
The usual feminine notes are switched up, jasmine given muscles and a short-back-and-sides haircut, sweet amber sheared sharp, carnations with teeth.
I’d huff it on a guy in a big way, but I’ll wear it too, with chunky shoes and a rough sweater, in the fall.
This alternative hit (also from 1989) mixes funk and sweetness with an easy groove.
A splash of limeade and orange zest, a rub of basil and flower petals, a breath of cedar, and then it’s gone.
The brevity is a strength–4711 glories in its opening moment, the interaction of refreshment, the awakening.
Many of us grew up with this one in the medicine chest rather than the vanity, used to disinfect cuts and soothe burns. It’s still one of my favorite comfort scents.
Haydn’s Surprise Symphony (No. 94) came out in in 1792 too.
The same lemon and white musk, but all the sharp herbs and incense smoke make it oversexed.
The glory of the female version, and why it’s such a powerhouse, is the ace quality that strips away any overt gendered invitation.
So by omitting all the sweet notes, the masculine edition just becomes another passive aggressive drink garnish at the patio bar.
Kanye West put out Stronger the same year. It was both as synthetic and popular.
Tea rose with dark chocolate underneath for hours and hours.
Would be lovely as a candle.
(My sable Bombay was not appreciative. Ears back at six inches, which speaks well of the sillage.)
This song never fails to make me dance. (The cat, not so much.)