Happy happy, merry merry!
This is sugary Christmas kisses under the mistletoe, clean snow and frosted black currants.
The lavender is sweet and musky and long-lasting, a pretty rime over the pine notes on the bottom.
I’d love this as a pillow spray in the winter.
This one is fun–
This is what Santa wears when he’s visiting a naughty house, because they’re a little nice, too, aren’t they?
Manly gingerbread cookies left under the tree.
Bright fir, fresh cut, leaking sticky pine pitch, and spice–baked ginger, ground cloves–with a syrupy base of resinous vanilla musk.
Long lasting in personal space, balsam trails with with brown sugar rubbed into the skin. Unisex, but should be worn by St. Nick types with big beards and twinkling eyes.
I like the candle even better. The pine takes center stage with a fruity note of cranberry, backed up by some smoky rose infused tea.
My house smells like a present–I’ve been a good girl this year.
Merry, merry.
Peachy honey aldehydes at the beginning, then flowers pile on, heavy on the iris.
Woods file in quickly, with sandalwood and amber on the bottom.
Lasts most of the day, and the next on cotton.
It’s sort of frumpy but mischievous, like the great aunt who slipped you a taste of her cordial when your parents said you still were too young to have any.
Lanvin released this in 1927. A year later, Boléro by Maurice Ravel premiered in Paris. Brilliant versions of the piece exist all over the internet–André Rieu’s is great, Pink Martini’s is worth a listen, even Frank Zappa conducts one, cigarette in hand. My favorite of the moment is this very special arrangement by Angelique Kidjo with Branford Marsalis.
Ginger and peppercorns that sweeten to ground spices, powdered cardamom and nutmeg, drier than dry toast, to the point that it makes me thirsty–almost itchy.
Half an hour in, the almonds warm up, and it gets creamier. A bit of floral musk makes it more palatable, and then the dry down is lovely, sandalwood with a hint of sweetness.
Stays politely in personal space for most of the day. Pair with a two liter drinking bottle.
TokyoMilk #19 – Magnolia, Jasmine, Sheer Citrus, White Musk
Too skinny for the ingredients.
A musky white flower concoction with peacock branding should be big and voluptuous, and Paradiso is at most a juniors size 6.
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Thin Lizzy’s guitarist does some sweet solo stuff–
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.
Nice for a guy who wants people to believe he just bathed.
Opens with a bit of watery citrus, then the spice-bush kicks in, smoky sweet and earthy–kind of nutmeg-ish with frothy lime flowers–and then ends with ginger tub cleanser.
I bought this one in my quest for calycanthus scents–here the sweet-shrub is overpowered by the bergamot notes and comes across soapy.
It’s nicer on clothes.
This cute song also came out of Italy in 2012.
Lemon cremes and iced sweet tea with chamomile.
Fresh, light and lovely, yet also soothing, the way laundered linen feels on the skin.
Stays just inside personal space all day, and lasts on clothes forever.
I could live in this stuff all summer long.
Adele’s 25 came out in 2015, too.
Well made, but buttoned up as tight as an adjunct professor at Brigham Young.
Nice not quite ripe pear on top, pale floral musk and modesty on the bottom, with yards of projection for two hours.
Sadly, I get none of the tea or bamboo that would give it depth or interest.
This young woman is both talented and interesting.
Lime and cloves and cardamom, then roses with woody thorns and sweet white flowers in a sandalwood bowl.
It’s nice, and reasonably priced, but I want more personality than just “hipster yoga studio in a gentrified neighborhood.”
This song gives me chills.
kira a. gold 