A pink rose resting against a tiny Guerlain gold accented bottle, filled with pale pink eau.
A noncommittal and tired rose–a little dusty (the blooms might be fading a bit)–in some canned mixed fruit, heavy on the pink grapefruit wedges.
Boring, and not even that high end. I’m rather sad about it.
Edit – 1/5/2022
I had to go back and give a re-sniff, just to see if my negativity might have been the weather, or just my dreary mood, but nope, this is definitely a disappointment. Oddly, it was designed by the same guy who did Teazzurra, which is one of my favorite scents ever.
Mini Lolita Lempicka apple bottle with gold and white ivy and stem cap with pierced heart motif, filled with pale pink eau, casting pretty shadows.
All the Lolita Lemicka sexy goodness has been stripped out and replaced with DKNY Be Disappointed. Might be good for starting campfires.*
Edit – 8/27/21
Eau Jolie was relegated to decorative bottle shelf–but today I wondered, could this be a reasonably good perfume? Did I go into this sniff with biased expectations of my favorite design house? (Lolita Lempicka’s fashion aesthetic was a big influence, back in my costume designing days.)
And, well… The top notes aren’t bad, just a little shrill–the pear’s sweetness is turned up one notch too far by the black currant. The middle is some generic floral musk that’s definitely not the “coquettish heart” of the ad copy. But there’s some reasonably nice neroli lingering with the cedar at the base for a little while.
Would I be impressed if it came from the house brand of a tweeny-bopper mall store? Perhaps with the quality of the ingredients, but not by the blend.
*Never spray or splash perfume near an open flame. (Crayons and dryer lint work well, too.)
*
Eau Jolie came out five eight years ago. So did Carla Bruni’s pretty little riff on Chopin.
Mini Guerlain beehive bottle on a tiny white cardboard box printed with orange blossoms.
Flora Nerolia is basically everything I love in a good neroli essential oil with three times the staying power and an added touch of elegance. Opens with spring sunshine and honey caught in a crystal decanter, then jasmine and pettigrain rough it up to make it organic and skanky. (The lushness could get sweaty in the summer. In winter it’s like wearing hope on the skin.)
Sadly discontinued. Secondhand prices are weird on this one–I’ve seen empty boxes go for more than full bottles.
Blue bottle with hearts cut into the glass and a fluted gold top, with a neon ikat printed box.
Spring break hangover in a bottle–which sheds its lovely color on the hands–a generic tropical in a take-home plastic cocktail glass, garnished with artificial flowers. Passionfruit vodka on top, vinyl couch cushion musk and failed midterms on the bottom.
Edit – 1/4/2022
I discovered this a gazillion years ago, in a “Things You Left In My Apartment” break-up box. It wasn’t mine, and I’ve occasionally wondered if it belonged to the girl before me, the one during, or the one after.
*
A college roommate–she was a drummer–turned me on to Peter Gabriel’s Passion, the soundtrack to The Last Temptation of Christ. I’ve yet to see the movie, but we played the album for two semesters straight.
Large 4711 Acqua Colonia cut crystal bottle with brown and gold label.
Lime and oak leaves.
The bottle says “Relaxing” in many languages. The eau is certainly not exciting, but it’s pleasant enough, I suppose. Lasts the usual 4711 quarter hour.
Perhaps one for unassuming gentlemen with good taste in hats?
Edit – 6/18/21
I had a good cup of Earl Grey tea this morning, and pulled this one out to compare the bergamot. The soft green citrus was easy to recognize in both, but I was struck by how much of the vetiver comes out when sniffing them side by side–almost nutty, like filberts or walnuts.
Also, nicer in the summer than the winter–less lime notes and more herbal vibes, and not so oaky dry.
Starry teacup and saucer, and cologne bottle and box, on my back patio. Good morning!
*
Love this relaxing Louis Armstrong cover of Irving Berlin and Fred Astaire’s classic.
Vintage 80’s Tabu violin bottle on a retro 60’s print with a femme fatale in black gloves. The illustrator, René Gruau left the Italian aristocracy for Paris, supporting himself and his mother at age 14 by selling drawings to fashion magazines. He became the advertising director Christian Dior in 1947, and is also known for his posters of The Moulin Rouge, and Fellini’s La Dolce Vita.
A stray cat in heat reeking of orange and cloves.
Tabu was that night you wore thigh-high stockings but forgot your fake ID, so someone’s older sister gave you rootbeer schnapps and after the party you watched the sunrise drinking Constant Comment tea with the guy your friend wanted.
I wore this once in high school and the boy who never noticed me asked my name, and the skirt I’d worn all year got measured with a ruler twice. My mother took the bottle away and told me I could have it back when I went to college.
*
Tabu came out in 1933, designed to be “the fragrance of a whore.” Jazz was taking Paris by storm then, led by Django Reinhard at the Hot Club. Here’s Gretchen Menn’s take on Minor Swing.
One bite of lemon ice–eaten with a wooden spoon–then it’s gone. I wanted more. Some herbal hardwoods lay a few inches above the skin for an hour. Might be nice as a boy’s first cologne.
Edit – 9/17/21
The dry-down is pleasant enough, but the performance is not worth the collector’s prices–unopened one ounce bottles are scarce and run as much as $150 now.
Vintage champagne cork shaped mini bottle, detailed with indentations of the muselet–the wire cage that “muzzles” the top–and rumpled gold foil, with red lettering.
Happy, happy.
The best New Year’s party ever, that changed its name from Champagne for copyright reasons. (Perfume is technically alcohol, so it cannot legally be sold with the word champagne unless it is made from specific grapes by a specific method in a specific region.) The new name is a play on YSL and the word ivresse, which means intoxication.)
Yvresse does sparkle out of the bottle, a joyful room-filling effervescent peach muddled up with delicious spices, that calms to petal-soft fuzzy apricot florals in slow dance space for the evening. Finishes with lovely sweet wine notes over resinous woods–another pun on the cork–that last the night, leaving rosy dregs on the skin in the morning.
Rich and light-hearted, but not silly. ‘Til next year!
TokyoMilk pot of solide parfum, with matchbox featuring Marie Antoinette holding a fan, on a dupioni dress with beaded lace.
Marie wants to be “Candied Lemon, Honeydew, Cassis, Sugared Violet, Ylang-ylang, Creamy Musk & White Woods,” but winds up being pale lilac clementines, in a surreal watercolor wash of cake icing. At the very bottom is a wisp of incense smoke that makes it decadent and sexy, fruity sweet dessert dressed in Rococo ruffle lingerie of sheer organdy, while getting stoned on joints rolled in gardenia scented paper.
My favorite of all the TokyoMilk’s I’ve sniffed. I wish it were offered as an eau–I’d bathe in the stuff.
Silver lidded perfume pot with TokyoMilk crest and matchbox package featuring a glittered clear cassette tape.
I sometimes wonder about how perfumes get named–is it made with the intent to smell like a specific thing, or is the name a retro-fit, an oh-we-meant-to-do-that?
I Made You A Mix Tape absolutely has a cellophane vibe, that sweetly nostalgic chemical plastic note of audio tape, which works rather well with the white rose musk. But would it be special to anyone under thirty?
This has really good performance for a solid–a foot of the skin for two hours, over half the day on skin–but it makes my head throb after a while (which is what my parents said about my music, so fair enough.)
*
“I made you a playlist” doesn’t have the same ring to it…
kira a. gold 