The tomato leaf opens loud, the way I like it, jolly green with a nice hit of citrus peel– And then leather eases in, holding crushed herbs, bruised fruit and flower prunings, a pretty chaotic mess that gets super sweet with black currants and jasmine for several nice hours within personal space. There’s a dust-up of saffron and vetiver as it settles, then some pleasant animalics and benzoin linger with apricots for the evening, subtle on skin and all night on the cuffs.
Somehow this all adds up to a fairy-tale–a Folavril pixie wearing Land of Warriors armor–but not about royalty, this eau is about the groundskeeper who trained the thorny rose forest, pruned the poisoned apple trees, cultivated the giant beanstalk seeds.
Niche quality, with prices to match, but absolutely worth saving up for–I feel like I could grow moth orchids that flew and ferns that actually fiddled, while wearing it.
Robert Smith (of The Cure) and Steven Severin (of Siouxsie and the Banshees) got together in The Glove to do a new wave album called Blue Sunshine. This instrumental tune also starts chaotic, then gets super sweet.
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.
Demeter Fragrance Library’s Riding Crop is not the stuff of Bluegrass tack shops, with clean virgin hide goods and polished silver bits, nor of stables full of equine sweat and clover hay.
This unisex cologne is a quick trip to the sex shop. Tops with leather and latex, changes position with high end water-base lube and a hint of drying spice–cardamom, perhaps–and bottoms with pleasant musk and a post-coital smoke.
Fun. Doesn’t last long, and stains the clothes a bit.
Lots of folks have covered this Velvet Underground song, but The Kills’ acoustic cover turns it intimate and consensual.
Nest is hit or miss with me–though I love their pretty little bottles. White Sandalwood leans masculine with fresh cut wood and an earthy leathery note, and dry almonds–almost toasted, but not gourmand at all–and I like it. A little lasts a long time–too much explodes with Hypnotic Poison strength Sharpie marker. Pair with jeans and a flannel shirt.
Drunk pine cones and combat boots, but comforting. This is that big guy at the bonfire who wrapped me up inside his motorcycle jacket to keep me warm, and whispered dreadful jokes in my ear all night long, and I’ll always be a little in love with him.
Fills the room then eases into personal space for the entire night, and lingers on the skin the next.
Rhinoceros was a supergroup experiment by Electra Records in 1969. There’s a good stampede in the middle of this one–
Carnation smoke and green kid gloves, with retro tailoring.
Fills the room with sharp with incense-y labdanum and chrysanthemum florals out of the bottle, then settles to a bright spicy clove. 1970’s Estee Lauder moss soon creeps in over 80’s Drakkar Noir leather, but manages to stay delicate, the whole day long. There’s a nice witchy “cool aunt” vintage vibe to it.
Sweeter on clothes than on the skin.
This B-side came out in 1980, and layers strung out funk with a bit of new age synth.
This dude lives in a cedar log cabin with a wood burning stove and scary dead animals, fresh enough that they still smell like fur and musk, on the wall. He’s unforgettable, and orris-root-sweet when you get to know him, but way too alpha-male for me.