Springtime in a Park

Replica sample card with a pink liquid filled spray, and a really tasty Bosc pear.

Springtime in a Park is supposed to replicate Shanghai 2019, but I get Car Wash 2004.

Starts out with a blast of flower lather, and then some not-quite-shrieking neon-green pear liquid soap, then blooms with bonkers loud lily-of-the-valley suds.
Bath-time is over in an hour, drying down to clean musk on the skin.

*

Donna Summer had much better spring fling flair.

Cool Water

Teal blue mini bottle of Cool Water in the icicles of my arborvitae.

Alpha evergreen rosemary and rain on top, Ray-Ban Wayfarers and herbal musk on the bottom.

Clean, mild at a distance and brash up close, Cool Water rejoices in its chemicals–the polymer sheen of a new laserdisc, NutraSweet powder, the antiseptic wetness of lubed condoms–with the late eighties zeal for cheap innovation and mass appeal.

I swiped a bottle from a pretty college boy thirty years ago (he took my Sandman comics, so I don’t feel guilty about it) and still wear it with pegged jeans and a skinny tie on soft butch days.

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I wore this cassette tape out in my Walkman–another sweet and synth number from 1988.

Dali Eau de Toilette

Starts juicy with sweet orange and neroli, then gets a little rosy before lying down with clean woodsy white musk. Lasts close to the skin for the morning.

It’s nice, but sadly not weird or innovative at all. I want more from the master of surrealism–give me swans reflecting elephants, or burning giraffes, or something cool.

***

“Love is surreal…”
(This is the best song off this album.)

Omnia Coral

omnia coral
Red and chrome mini Bvglari chain link bottle.

Fruity, but hard and cold like all the Omnias–mashed berries on ice that melt in an hour into a pretty floral garnish. The cedar musk lasts longest, sweet and dry on the skin overnight.

I wish the pomegranate and hibiscus were noticeable beyond the initial juicy tartness. I just get an upscale red Kool-aid, and it’s refreshing, but I like a stronger summertime drink.


Apropos. (Wasn’t that one of the Three Musketeers?)

Dylan Blue

dylan blue
Miniature blue amphora with gold raised Medusa lid.

This one makes me feel like I’ve been to that fantastic salon I can’t really afford.

Apple shampoo and flowery conditioner at first, then gorgeous honey notes from peach and clover for an hour.
Dries down to sweet patchy detangler musk.

Not great sillage–three inches above the skin, at most–and not terribly long lasting.  Also, oddly greasy on the skin; I’m guessing it would stain a scarf.

(And always remember to tip your stylist.)


Indigo Girls tangling up some Dylan blues.

Impressions de Giverny

Impressions de Giverny edgyThis one bombs an apple orchard with flowers–exploding petals everywhere–big fat magnolias, roses, white lilies, orange blossoms,  ylang ylang, tons of neroli.
White musk takes over after fifteen minutes with a metallic edge that somehow cheapens the flowers, like a vase made from aluminum, then everything fades to a lick of ambergris on the skin.

I’d like it more as a candle.


I dreamed of a pilgrimage to Monet’s waterlily garden, like all impressionable teenage art students–

Florence

Florence edgyA bite of bergamot and green apples, then huge gardenias, the kind my grandmother used to grow, big waxy white flowers with shiny green leaves that took over her living room.
Florence grows that big–one roll on the wrist and it’s all through the house.

I like it better after an hour, when it settles down to light woodsy musk on the skin.


Florence, of course.

Another Quiet Day

Another Quiet Day
Amber Lollia rollerball from the Poetic License Collection.

Vanilla amber and marshmallow-y musk.
Maybe there’s some almonds in there, too.

It’s okay, but not anything that can’t be found at Victoria’s Secret or Bath and Body Works.


I’ve sort of fallen in love with Pomplamoose. They’re a husband and wife team who’ve made a name for their transparent (what you see is what you get–no post production mixing) cover works online. Here’s another less quiet Another Day.