A pretty lover you grow out of quickly.
Baby pink powder puff of irises, maturing slightly to raspberries and flirty cherries, with an almost clashing note of L.L.’s signature green violets, just to make one stand up and take notice.
A long finish with hydrangea musk and artificial vanilla, and a touch of regret.
I liked it for a while.
Opens loud and long with green violets and absinthe, then hovers jealously over the skin with almonds and cherry musk for hours.
The wormwood coats the almonds, making them weird and witchy, with long bitchy fingernails.
Alluring, but odd.
A beach wedding.
Opens with grapefruit, sugar and a silver spoon, then the frangipani* kicks in.
Waxy flower leis, festoons of them everywhere, sweet and heavy, lovely, but overdone.
The bride carries orchids, but you can’t smell them.
Hours later there’s breezy musk on dunes, and driftwood drying in the sun. The next day, an odd amber citrus still clings to the skin, like sand in unexpected places.
*(Does anyone else think “fancy-panties” when they read the word frangipani?)
(This is awkward now.)
This was my first lesson in flankers. I’d mistakenly bought it thinking it was a back-up bottle for my LL Midnight Sun.
LL Stardust Midnight is sharper and sweeter, closer to the original Lolita.
It opens with bright hot anise and settles down to licorice candy and sugared violets, then lingers on skin and clothes and sheets with an effervescent vanilla.
I loved this passionately for three days–a torrid affair of chocolate tangerine jellies and peppery flower bouquets boldly stolen from the neighbor’s garden at noon–but then the ashtray dust and sweat socks became too hard to ignore, and I broke it off.
Put on that waxy red lipstick you can’t get rid of, bite a chocolate cherry cordial, then kiss the mirror. Voilà! Lolita Lempicka Sweet.
This one wears a short skirt with torn fishnets and whistles at construction workers and laughs outright when anyone tells her she shouldn’t do exactly as she pleases.
Vosges used to make a violette chocolate cream truffle that tastes like Midnight Sun smells straight out of the bottle.
It dries down quickly to anise seed powder and vanilla, anchored in place by vetiver–and lingers until dawn, a sexy Cinderella losing more than her shoes as she dances.
This was my date-night signature until I discovered Lolita Lempicka Minuit Noir.